Rory and me: Cameron Smith on the phone call that pre-empted the firestorm

Rory and me: Cameron Smith on the phone call that pre-empted the firestorm

Australian golfer Cameron Smith holding the famous Claret Jug after winning the British Open.Credit:Getty Images

In a Jacksonville garage beyond the white concrete wall where gardeners work away in the front yard, a bloke worth hundreds of millions of dollars could be mistaken for a fan who picked up a cheap T-shirt from a merchandise van, just so he can say: “I was there”.

He’s only just risen for the morning after a late, late return from baseball’s World Series in Philadelphia. The shoe choice is simple: none. The T-shirt is crisp and white, imprinted with LIV Miami, golf’s richest-ever event that Cameron Smith and his mullet almost won. His garb is only matched by the Broncos training shirt his best mate Jack Wilkosz wears as he sweats it out in the garage gym.

Arguably the world’s best golfer, Smith has a bit on for the day, which will revolve around selling his boat from his backyard jetty later in the afternoon. Each house along this stretch of this Florida waterway has its own dock. Smith’s on a first-name basis with the neighbours and only wishes his schedule would allow him to contest more two and three-day fishing competitions. He points out the direction of his favourite fishing spot to The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, a couple of kilometres downstream.

“They all know when I’m entering and that I like to fish, just like them,” Smith says.

If being showered in cash from Saudi Arabia’s public investment fund as the poster boy for the breakaway LIV Golf league was supposed to change Smith, then a morning with him shows it hasn’t.

Depending on which side of golf’s civil war you’re on, Smith, 29, is either a mercenary or a magician, a pariah or prudent, a legacy wrecker or shaper.

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Yet his talent, and standing, are so significant it even prompted world No.1 Rory McIlroy, a staunch PGA Tour advocate, to pick up the phone to persuade him to turn his back on Greg Norman’s riches and “sportswashing” accusations by staying loyal to the establishment. McIlroy made the phone call only days after Smith had denied him The Open title in its 150th edition.

“I’ve always had respect for Rory and I’ve liked what he says on the golf course,” says Smith, who has returned home for a tour of the Claret Jug and to play in next week’s Australian PGA and Australian Open. “He said, ‘congrats’. There were maybe a couple of little jabs in there. He was happy I played well and it was a good tournament. Then we talked about the PGA Tour and LIV. There was a bunch of stuff he wanted me to know before I made my decision. I wouldn’t say he tried to directly talk me out of it, but he definitely wanted me to stay.”

World No.3 Cameron Smith at home in Jacksonville before returning for the Australian summer of golf.

The first time Cameron Smith burst into the conscience of mainstream Australia was a mid-winter Monday morning this year when television bulletins and news sites boomed about one of the greatest Australian sporting achievements barely anyone saw.

It’s easy to remember where you were when Australia won the America’s Cup, or when Cathy Freeman won gold in Sydney, or when John Aloisi ended three decades of soccer World Cup torment.

But most of Australia was asleep at 3.41am when McIlroy charged an audacious chip shot for eagle past the pin on the 18th hole at St Andrews, the home of golf, which left Smith winning the oldest trophy in the sport. Smith started the day four strokes behind McIlroy and Norway’s Viktor Hovland. On the back nine, Smith shot 30. It was like he was putting a golf ball into a hole the size of a basketball hoop.

But no sooner than he had shared an emotional phone call with his father Des, who had decided to stay in Australia that week, the narrative had flipped to Norman and LIV Golf. Speculation had swirled the grand old fairways all week that Smith was about to be the first top-10 player to join LIV. A journalist asked if the deal was done. For the first time, perhaps ever, Smith looked terse.

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“I just won the British Open, and you’re asking about that. I think that’s pretty not that good.”

Norman almost instantaneously thumbed his congratulations on social media.

Was the Smith LIV deal, reported to be worth $140 million, done before he won The Open?

“I was definitely leaning one way, but it wasn’t signed on paper,” Smith says. “There was still so much stuff to do, and so much to think about.”

Which included the constant criticism of LIV’s paymasters and their human rights record. Saudi Arabia’s public investment fund has also bought English Premier League club Newcastle, and Smith knew the storm he would be walking into, even if the topic remains a delicate one, months after his switch.

“It felt like I didn’t sleep for a few months,” Smith says. “I was constantly thinking, ‘what will other people think?’ That was a really big factor for me. I feel like I do most things by the book and to be one to step away … was really tough for me.”

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Smith confided in those closest to him, his mum and his dad, his agents, his childhood mate Wilkosz, Adam Scott, Marc Leishman, Ian Baker-Finch and then there was Norman and PGA Tour Commissioner Jay Monahan, whose headquarters are a few minutes down the road from Smith in Jacksonville.

He wanted to know from the sport’s two alpha males: what could they do to help Australian golf?

Cameron Smith and Rory McIlroy striding the fairways together.Credit:AP

Norman said he would bring a LIV event to Australia and Smith would be the principal player for a team made up of countrymen (LIV announced this week Adelaide’s The Grange would host an event in April). Monahan said the PGA Tour was seeking a second-tier Korn Ferry Tour tournament Down Under (The Presidents Cup has only been played in Australia every eight years).

“For me, the PGA Tour is a great place. It’s a great tour that does really good things. But as you look back, Adam [Scott] has been one of the best golfers in the world for 20 years and I just think it’s really weird for them [PGA Tour] to not have an event [in Australia] just because of him,” Smith says. “Then you have Jason [Day], Marc [Leishman], there’s a bunch of guys they could have done so much for. The Aussie crowd gets around it so much …”

Smith pauses for a moment.

“But I just don’t think it’s that profitable for them and that’s kind of the reason behind it all.”

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But it was plenty profitable for Smith to join LIV.

Smith has been one of the few LIV defectors to publicly acknowledge money was a factor in his decision. Norman pitched the business model to him, which would involve Smith picking and choosing his own team (he plans to change from the current name Punch GC) and making it into a commercial entity. Each player is guaranteed a cheque regardless of where they finish in each tournament.

“It’s really stressful,” Smith laughs. “I’ve spent more time in offices and board rooms the last couple of months [than almost on the golf course]. But I said to my agent, ‘my No.1 goal is to get the ball in the hole in as few shots as possible. If this gets too much we’ll have to look at other things’.

“Above all, we’re all competitors and we just want to beat the shit out of each other. I think there’s definitely a different feeling [with LIV] when we’re off the golf course, but when we’re on the golf course we just want to win. It doesn’t matter about prize money. The thing that gets us going as competitors is winning.”

If Cameron Smith had maybe had his way, he would be returning to NRL pre-season training as the Broncos’ halfback this week instead of coming home to play a golf tournament in Australia for the first time in three years. His dad has a little slice of rugby league history himself. On the night Arthur Beetson led Queensland onto Lang Park for the first State of Origin match in 1980, Des was in the crowd.

Cameron Smith speaks to the media during a press conference at the LIV Golf event near Boston.Credit:Getty

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Before this year’s Origin series decider, Cameron told tournament organisers he would play an early practice round and conduct his press conference at a time when he predicted the match would have finished. But three concussions in the first four minutes meant by the time his media duties rolled around, Origin III was still in the balance. He nervously shuffled in his seat, looking at the few Australian reporters between questions for a hint, any cue, about what was happening half-a-world away in the desperate final minutes.

Then Ben Hunt ran into Origin immortality.

“I re-watched the last 15 minutes,” he says. “It was epic. I guess rugby league is kind of just in our blood. I love the game. I think it’s one of the best games in the world. Even now, I will watch every Broncos game when I’m at home. I’ll get up at 4am or 5am in the morning and I’ll make a cup of coffee. It’s a little bit different to at home where you’re cracking your first beer.”

Would he ever consider buying a stake in the Broncos?

“I think I’m so heavily invested as a fan, if I was a part of it I think I would start growing grey hairs.”

Cameron Smith tries to watch his ball during his The Open triumph at St Andrews.Credit:AP

Smith returned to Australia this week with a simple wishlist: good coffee, meat pies, beers with the local members at his home course at Wantima in Brisbane’s northern suburbs, a check on the Subaru he’s turning into a Time Attack racer, the chance to drive a manual car again, backyard cricket and attempting a Guinness World Record for largest golf coaching clinic.

Oh, and family and friends.

Then it will come down to the business of winning the Australian PGA and Australian Open, two rare events he will be able to earn world rankings points in.

The conversation drifts onto the one goal Smith really wants to get out of 2023, a golfing year shrouded with so much uncertainty. He talks about seeing the reaction of the Australian public when LIV comes to Australia, and almost stops himself, knowing it betrays another thought as he looks across his backyard beach.

What about Augusta and winning The Masters, an event he’s been so close to before?

“Absolutely,” he says. “Lifting that up, or any major, would be epic. St Andrews might be No.1 forever, but [The Masters] is definitely the one I want to get. One thing I know is I’m still really hungry. This year, and especially the last couple of months, there’s been a lot of people that have said some stuff. I’ve just got to prove them all wrong.”

Watch the Australian PGA Championship on the 9Network and 9Now from December 24-27.

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