The seeds of golf’s best-known matches started with, literally, seeds
Samuel Ryder, whose name is on one of the most coveted trophies—and exciting events—in golf, didn’t begin playing the game himself until he was 50 years old. And then, because, like so many before and since, he needed a break from work.
Born in 1858, he grew up in Manchester, England, the son of a corn merchant, and entered his father’s business shortly after university. The accepted story is that young Sam proposed expanding the business by selling “penny packets” of seeds to the English, who are well known for their love of gardening. When Dad said no, Sam said goodbye, and in 1898, with his brother James, he moved to St. Albans, about 30 miles north of London, where they opened the Heath and Heather Seed Company.
The business quickly grew and the tall, driven Ryder prospered. He also branched out, becoming the mayor of St. Albans in 1905, as well as Justice of the Peace. He worked hard, his seeds sold, and he became wealthy. And exhausted. Around his 50th birthday, his doctor—or perhaps his minister (Sam was a religious man)—prescribed a regimen of fresh air and exercise. At which point, golf entered his life.
Ryder took to golf as he did to everything else: with vigor. He took lessons from a local pro six days a week (no Sundays!), turning his estate into a private practice park. In 1910, he joined Verulam Golf Club in St. Albans, and within two years was club captain. He got his handicap down to single digits, but realizing he’d never get much better, he turned his formidable energy to another group of golfers—Britain’s pros.
Thanks to Harry Vardon, James Braid, and J.H. Taylor (the “Great Triumvirate”), plus others, the professional game in Britain was flourishing, aided by the advent of the rubber-cored ball in the early 1900s and visits from top American golfers like Walter Travis and Walter Hagen. Ryder was a good enough golfer, and smart enough businessman, to recognize an opportunity, and in 1923, Heath and Heather—which was supplying grass seed to golf courses on both sides of the Atlantic—sponsored a tournament for pros at Verulam.
Arthur Havens, who’d won the Open Championship (and 75 pounds) at Troon a few weeks earlier, picked up another 50 pounds at Verulam by topping Vardon, Braid, and numerous others, including Abe Mitchell, the professional at Sonning Golf Club, about 40 miles west of London. A good player, Mitchell captured numerous titles in Britain (and one in the U.S., the 1924 Miami Open) but never finished better than fourth in the Open. He was also an avid gardener, which may be why he and Ryder hit it off, and in 1925 he became Sam’s personal instructor at 1,000 pounds a year—enough to quit his club job.
Ryder and his company became major benefactors of Britain’s pros. In 1926, he sponsored a series of matches between the locals and pros from America coming over to compete in the Open at Royal Lytham and St. Annes. Among his contributions to that event was a golf trophy, which he stipulated would be topped by a figure of a put ting golfer modeled after his friend Mitchell. Interestingly, that trophy—what we now know as the Ryder Cup—reads “1927,” meaning it probably wasn’t ready in time for the 1926 matches and is why they are largely overlooked. (The Brits won, handily, 13-1/2 to 1-1/2.)
When the “official” Ryder Cup matches began in 1927 in Worcester, Mass., Ryder did not attend because he was deathly afraid of sea voyages. But he was on hand in 1929 and 1933 when they were played in England and his side won both. Ryder died in 1936 and was buried with his favorite mashie (5-iron).
