Here, we look at excerpts from Palmer’s book describing his and his first wife, Winnie’s, competitive trips to The Open, which began and ended at St Andrews—snapshots of what Palmer called “a love affair with British golf fans and their venerable Open.”

On Friday afternoon of the second round, when it was obvious to everybody—including me—that I wouldn’t make the cut, I walked toward the famous little stone bridge over the Swilcan Burn on the 18th hole. Photographers were calling out to me. They knew what the moment meant, and they wanted me to pause and give them a wave. So, at the top of the arched bridge, I turned, framed by the stern visage of the Royal and Ancient clubhouse, lifted off my visor, and gave the gallery a long farewell wave with it.

…Memories were flooding my brain, and emotions were washing over me like you can’t imagine. In the instant it took for the camera’s shutter to flip open and close to capture that memorable photograph, I was also thinking how it all seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. True enough, my British Open magic was dimmed, but the magic of the British Open was as strong as it had ever been for me.

With that, I turned and walked up to the green and finished my Open career.”