The Solheim Cup is 20 this week, and that alone tells you everything you need to know about one of women’s golf’s best ideas. What started as a proposal that was initially waved away has become a Ryder Cup-style institution, one that now reaches Bernardus Golf in North Brabant, Netherlands with history, tension and proper edge intact.
That is the remarkable part: the event did not arrive with a smooth birth or a grand marketing plan. In 1988, Joe Flanagan pitched the concept of a team competition to LPGA commissioner John Laupheimer, and he rejected it. Laupheimer even joked that his legacy would be that he was the commissioner who passed on the Solheim Cup. He was right about the first part, but only because the story refused to end there.
By Dec. 1, 1988, Bill Blue had taken over as commissioner after Laupheimer resigned, and in January 1990 the idea was presented to Karsten and Louise Solheim at the PGA Merchandise Show in Orlando. John Solheim remembers the process clearly. There was debate about the format, but he and Joe Flanagan insisted it be modeled after the Ryder Cup. As Solheim has said, Flanagan was very helpful and played a big role in getting the event off the ground.
From awkward beginning to established fixture
The first Solheim Cup was then played in November 1990 at Lake Nona Golf & Country Club in Orlando, Florida. The gap between that chaotic beginning and this week’s 20th edition tells you how far the competition has come. John Solheim said it is hard to believe the initial conversation took place more than 35 years ago and that the event is now approaching its 20th edition. He also noted that the first proposal was for a two-event commitment, one in the U.S. and one in Europe, which makes the modern shape of the competition feel almost inevitable in hindsight.
Of course, nothing about the Solheim Cup has ever been routine. The competition has produced 11 victories for the United States, 7 victories for Europe and 1 tie. Europe’s 2011 fightback, when it took 3½ of the final 4 points to end a three-match U.S. winning streak, remains one of the defining swings. Then came 2023, when the match ended in a tie and allowed Europe to keep the cup. That is the beauty of the thing: even when it is not tidy, it is never dull.
This week’s staging at Bernardus Golf in North Brabant is another reminder that the event has fully moved beyond novelty. It is no longer a promising experiment. It is the fixture. It is the stage where form, nerve and national pride all get pulled into the same pressure cooker. And if you need proof that the Solheim Cup has earned its place, just look at how often the conversation shifts from “will this work?” to “who will handle it best?”
That is why the competition matters so much now. It has created its own traditions, its own scars and its own arguments, including the kind of moments people still whisper about years later — the controversial re-chip, the shocking gimme that wasn’t, the sort of chaos that makes team golf feel gloriously alive. The Solheim Cup began as an idea that one commissioner passed on. Twenty editions later, it stands as one of the sport’s most durable and compelling events.
And that is the real verdict on the 20th Solheim Cup: it did not just survive a difficult start. It turned that start into a legacy.
