“I’ve done what I’ve done, I’ve been sentenced to do my time,” says Australian professional golfer and former Rebels bikie Ryan Peake. “But the time didn’t end there. Every day is essentially a continuation of my sentence.”
In March, the 32-year-old broke through for his first professional victory at the New Zealand Open. Since he was released from prison for twice causing grievous bodily harm it has been five years, the same length of time he spent inside.
“I’m not saying that I’ve been hard done by or whatnot, I’m not saying that at all. These are events that I’ve created for myself, and I’ve got to deal with it, that’s fine, that’s not an issue,” Peake says over a glass of water in Melbourne, days after finishing second on the Australasian PGA Tour order of merit. “What I am trying to say is that I don’t want people to look at me as a role model.”
Peake’s recent achievements have catapulted him onto the world’s golfing stage. He can now compete at this year’s British Open Championship, perhaps the sport’s most revered tournament. He has a card for next season’s DP World Tour, the traditional European circuit now supercharged by investment from the Middle East and Asia. And he can play every stop on the Asian Tour this year.
This elevation should be a milestone in any golfer’s career, a chance to look to the future and the promise of a globetrotting sporting life. But Peake teeing off in many of these countries is not guaranteed. There are specific requirements for those with criminal records applying for visas, and no certainty in the application process.
It is just another reminder that whatever his story’s redemption arc, Peake’s fateful decisions a decade ago still punctuate his everyday. “When you do go down a certain path, or don’t have the consequential thinking of your actions, you may only get a few years’ jail. But just understand that the risks involved will carry on with you for the rest of your life,” Peake says.
The court records are jarring. One matter involved a group of six including Peake beating another man. A second described Peake delivering a “very forceful blow” to a man on a Perth street late one Saturday night. And these were not the then-22-year-old’s only offences.
“I know it doesn’t sound great saying that I’m thankful I went to jail, but in one way or another, I am thankful. Because if it wasn’t for that maybe I wouldn’t have been able to have that time and reflect on where I was heading in life,” Peake says.
As a talented junior golfer, Peake was good enough to play in Australian representative teams alongside the likes of 2022 Open Championship winner and LIV Golf star Cameron Smith. But in his teens he struggled with depression, low self-esteem, violence and alcohol, and his love of the sport waned.
He hoped turning pro at 19 might revive his passion for a game introduced to him by his English bricklayer father Mel, on the northern fringes of Perth. But he lasted just one tournament, and instead leapt from embraces of the golfing community to those of the Rebels motorcycle club. Within three years, he was in prison.
Peake’s story was told many times before his first victory as a professional last month, but interest from international media has since surged. While these stories have heavily recycled his chequered past, most overlooked the drama of his trip.
He was in immigration limbo hours before his flight out of Australia, stuck at the airport waiting for his visa to clear. “When my passport wasn’t being scanned, as much as I was disappointed that it wasn’t looking like I was going to play the New Zealand Open, I was also standing there with my backpack on with a ring in it as well, thinking, ‘Well, this isn’t going be handed over this trip either’,” Peake says.
It was an engagement ring for his then-girlfriend Lee, now his fiancé. At the last minute, his visa was processed and the pair were able to make their flight to Queenstown. After a second round 64 that pushed Peake into contention, the couple went on a helicopter ride during which he proposed. “I’m glad I’ve done it on the Friday, because if I had done it on the Sunday, I may have had to spend a little bit more money on the ring,” Peake says.
Lee’s visit was short, and she had been booked to fly back to Australia before the end of the final round. “When I was four shots back going into the last round, we were thinking about changing her flights, but then we just thought, ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves and just stick to what we planned’. But that was a pretty cool phone call to make after the round.”
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Peake is not unfamiliar with significant phone calls. The one with golf coach Ritchie Smith, midway through his jail term, changed the course of his life. Smith’s West Australian stable includes Hannah Green, Minjee Lee, Min Woo Lee and Elvis Smylie, who shaded Peake on the Australasian order of merit this season. Smith knew Peake from his junior days, and the mentor’s attention and training plan gave Peake a purpose during his incarceration.
Smith’s influence on Peake will only grow in coming years. “A lot of this is a new experience to me,” Peake says. “And Ritchie is going to have a very big say in how long I play for, and what I’m going to play.”
The financial realities of an emerging professional golfer are also a consideration. Peake’s decision to turn pro in 2023 was only possible thanks to two anonymous benefactors. “They’re just genuine guys, them and their families, that just want to try and help someone else achieve things that they’ve achieved for their life as well,” he says.
The New Zealand Open offered a purse of NZ$2m (AU$1.8m), but as the winner Peake took home only NZ$300,000 (AU$270,000) before tax. “Although for my family it was a big lump sum, it still hasn’t got me ahead of where your normal 32-year-old is, the amount of money that we’ve invested into trying to get that first win. You know, we’re still in negative figures.”
His costs of travelling on the European tour next year are likely to exceed AU$150,000, and although he enjoys the sport’s competition, Peake is up-front about his ultimate motivation. “If I wasn’t good at golf – I’ve got no academic skills, no trades or anything like that – I would be digging holes. I’m fortunate that I’m pretty good at hitting the golf ball, so money is the drive. This is how I can make money and set my family up.”
Despite Peake’s burgeoning status, interest from commercial partners – apart from a long-time arrangement with equipment sponsor Titleist and a new apparel deal with Good Good – has been limited. His manager, Matt Cutler from WME Sports, suspects companies are waiting for others to take the plunge before committing themselves. “Given Ryan’s history, perhaps there is a reluctance to partner with him,” Cutler says, before adding that Peake’s appeal is his story, and one “unlike any other in golf and a person simply wanting to be the best version of themselves.”
The source of his fame has made Peake question the nature of celebrity. “Everyone’s got a story, and there’s plenty of other stories out there,” he says, offering the example of Kiwi golfer Michael Hendry, who has returned to the professional game after a cancer diagnosis.
“My story will get run more than his, but for the wrong things I’ve done in my life,” Peake says. “I could go and win the Masters, and they’re not going to say, ‘Ryan Peake won the Masters because he played great golf this week’.”
Peake is now working on his short game in preparation for coming tournaments in Asia, and July’s 153rd Open Championship at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland. He will travel there on his British passport, and he has some idea of the imminent international media frenzy. “People use my story because that sells papers, right? This story is never, ever going to happen again. There’s never going to be another golfer, bikie, prisoner that plays an Open. It will never happen again.”