Right in the thick of it
At the Dubai Invitational and the Hero Dubai Desert Classic of the Rolex Series, I experience world-class golf up close: in the media centre, from the press box, in the corridor under the stands behind the 18th green on the way to the scoring room.
The fascination of golf
Results belong in tables. Feelings remain in the memory.
Four weeks have passed since I accompanied two DP World Tour tournaments in Dubai. The winners have been decided, the stands have been dismantled, and the perfectly manicured lawn has long since returned to everyday life.
And yet I still think about those two weekends.
Perhaps because I have been playing golf myself for 35 years. Perhaps because I have never been interested in this sport solely from a technical perspective, but always from a human one as well. And because I was able to experience this humanity more closely than ever before.
At the Creek – that special silence
The Dubai Invitational begins quietly, almost familiarly. The course is located on the riverbank of the historic Creek, and the clubhouse, shaped like a dhow, seems like a greeting from another time. Water glistens on numerous holes, and spectator interest grows day by day.
On the final day, everything is decided in the last few metres. Nacho Elvira keeps his nerve, plays a birdie on the 17th and wins the tournament. Shane Lowry loses his chance of victory with a double bogey on the 18th. Rory McIlroy also misses out on a possible play-off with a bogey.
My camera captures the interviews with the winners and losers from the front row. It’s not the score that impresses me, nor the number under par – but experiencing up close how narrow the line is between relief, joy and disappointment, and seeing this reflected in their faces.
What remains is this feeling.
An icon reports
On the fairways and greens, I listen to the unmistakable voice of Wayne Riley. ‘Radar’, as he has been known for years, reports not from the studio, but directly from the course, inside the ropes. Seeing him commentate on the action with expertise, passion and humour impresses me.
And it reminds me how close I came to my former career aspiration of becoming a sports reporter at that moment.
The big stage in the metropolis
One week later: Hero Dubai Desert Classic. Rolex Series. Emirates Golf Club. Huge grandstands, more world-class players, greater media attention and more spectator interest.
The Dubai skyline frames the fairways like a modern cathedral. The glass and concrete clubhouse with its seven Bedouin tent-like structures combines tradition and modernity.
At the first tee, right next to the clubhouse, I get goosebumps when the starter introduces the players with his familiar welcome.
Patrick Reed – completely in control
Patrick Reed travels from the USA. His goal is clear: sporting success on the DP World Tour and a return to the big stage of the PGA Tour.
He plays the entire tournament with a sobriety that comes across as focused and cool. He takes twelve balls with him on the round, all numbered 3, plus six tees – he only replaces them when they are all lost or broken. Always the same ritual.
I watch him warming up on the putting green. His distance control on long putts is impressive. On his bag, I discover photos of his kids – a quiet, personal contrast to his uncompromising professionalism on the course.
His facial expressions betray nothing. No twitching, no visible doubt. An approach shot falls short in the deep rough, threatening a bogey – but he sinks the long chip for a birdie. Amateurs know how extraordinary that is.
He dominates the tournament. On the final day, things get tight again for a short time, but he confidently brings home his lead. In the Scoring Room, ‚Captain America‘r finally beams with a broad smile. The tension has eased. Two metres in front of me, he discreetly expresses his joy – not loudly, but clearly recognisable.
A moment that I consciously perceive and capture.
37 years of golf history
When the original Dallah trophy is delivered, I have the opportunity to hold it in my hands – this silver coffee pot that has represented this tournament for decades. It feels heavy in my hands. Names such as Severiano Ballesteros, Ernie Els and Tiger Woods are engraved in metal. Rory McIlroy four times.
An almost surreal award ceremony
When rain later sets in and Reed accepts the trophy and winner cheque under umbrellas, everything seems almost unreal: desert, world class, cloudburst.
I take photos surrounded by sheiks – and at the same time just watch.
Rory – a moment between professionalism and memory
I meet Rory McIlroy again in the press channel. The tournament is proceeding without any highlights for him.
Our first encounter was a long time ago. In 2011, in the same hotel in Dubai where we were both staying. A brief conversation, a photo together – and his spontaneous invitation to accompany him to the golf course where the final of the European Tour took place. I declined. To this day, I still can’t explain why.
After the current final round, we meet again. I show him the photo from back then. Of course, he doesn’t remember. And again, there is this brief moment of pause.
For a moment, I am not just a journalist, but once again a passionate golfer – someone who loves this sport and is enjoying exchanging a few personal words with one of the best players in the world today. Then another photo.
A friend told me later that he rarely gets jealous – but he was jealous of this moment.
Freddy Schott – the quiet development
I also meet Freddy Schott after his round. He is matter-of-fact, reflective, not entirely satisfied but very open-minded and friendly.
A week later, he wins his first tournament on the DP World Tour in Bahrain – in a play-off against of all thing Patrick Reed.
Golf doesn’t always tell stories loudly. Sometimes they develop quietly.
Why I am still amazed
I know that mixture of hope and doubt before a shot. I know the joy of a well-struck drive – and the helplessness after a missed, short putt.
Perhaps that is why these weekends affect me so much: because I recognise the same emotions in the professionals – just on a different level.
Golf is not a noisy sport. And it is precisely these nuances that create the fascination that has stayed with me to this day.
Not because of the winners’ lists. Not because of the prize money. But because of these brief, intense moments – and because I feel why this game has captivated me for 35 years.
Juergen Linnenbuerger, February 2026