Links Diary J.Lindeberg Edition
Where the Journey Begins
Jamie Darling Content & Operations Graeme McCubbin Creative & Photography Kenny Pallas Brands & Editorial Stuart Currie Creative & Design The Team Contents This is your new golfing community where our passions for golf can be shared and celebrated. Cover and back image: Photographed by Graeme McCubbin. Take Your Medicine 4 Life Before Ace 12 The Divotologists 22 Golfaholics Anonymous 36 Golf & Tea For Everyone 38 Keeping It Right Seems Strange 54 Nature’s Wicked Slice 80 Clubs Do Travel, Don’t They? 100 Who is Robbie Williams? 114 The RW x JL Collection 116
TAKEMEDICINEYOUR Photography by Graeme McCubbin.
Mark Twain said that golf was a good walk spoiled, but, with respect, he’s wrong. Golf is a great healer that allows me a slice of escapism in an ever-more noisy world. Life slows down on a golf course and gives me an inner peace that is so rare in modern society. Don’t get me wrong, I love being on the course with friends. I love getting some atmosphere going, but that’s a different pursuit. Solo golf is something to cherish, it’s good for the soul. I’m asked a lot why I play golf. The people who ask me cannot understand the richness this game brings to my life. Nothing can put a smile on my face like a perfectly executed golf shot. To think that some people don’t know this ecstasy is a shame but I know it and that’s all that matters right now.
Concentrating with every fibre of my grey matter gets me into that flow state that is pure joy. Imagining the perfect shot and trying to coordinate my body to create the right swing is bliss.
How did I get here? It’s a rainy summer evening, the clouds are heavy in parts yet the golden sunlight is shining down on me.
The weather is the perfect metaphor for where I find myself. Stormy and dangerous-looking skies with rays of sunlight give me hope. Many wouldn’t dare go out on the course tonight, but I need this. You see golf is my medicine and it is helping me through these times.
Tall trees, fading light and a soundscape of birdsong give me solace that I struggle to find elsewhere. Alone with my thoughts in the warm embrace of the fairways. She hugs me and tells me everything will be ok, I trust her, and she offers me protection. I know that spending this time here will mean that I will feel renewed when I leave, it is the medicine I need right now. Golf is one of the great distractions, a powerful addiction all on its own. It occupies the mind from morning to night and even in your dreams from time to time. On the course, the outside world fades into nothingness. All that matters is the next shot, I feel completely free when I’m on the course. Walking the fairways, either alone or with others, is an experience that no other sport provides. The slower pace of life on a golf course allows me to control my breathing, something I know that I don’t do away from the course enough. It provides me with a sense of what matters in life, it makes me a better man. Golf heals me. When things seem complicated, golf is something I can rely on. How I play doesn’t matter so much these days, I savour the chance to play. I’m not the first person to feel the healing power of golf. It’s like a form of active meditation as I walk the fairways and take in the various sensations that this experience offers me. Golf helps you connect with nature like a more active version of the Japanese therapy Shirin-yoku (forest bathing). I’ll refer to this as links bathing. Walking between shots, I have time to take in the surroundings and work through my thoughts. Yet, those moments before a shot are where I find the most comfort.
BeforeLifeAce
Photography by Stuart Kerr.
PART ONE
Words by Reece Witters - @auldmanpar.
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I’m not religious, but I’m a devoted golfer. We golfers are all the same, we can’t hide our compulsion. We stick out like a strong right thumb on an overlapping grip. I see the guy practising his inside takeaway while filling up with gas, or the white leather glove hanging out of the back pocket of the elderly man queuing for his morning caffeine. It’s clear he’s got the bug pretty bad when a couple of broken tees hit the floor as he fumbles for his wallet. Golfers see golf everywhere, it’s our currency and measurement of life. We size each other up like mixed martial arts fighters scoping strengths and weighing weaknesses, and always seeking an edge. Is he coming or going from the links? He plays blades. That looks like a one iron. I wonder if he’s sunk an ace? “Ever had a hole-in-one?” It’s a jarring question for steadfast golfers who’ve not jarred one themselves. And it seems to come up way too often, typically and predictably from relatively unaccomplished, green fee, part-timers. I know he’s dying to tell me he’s had one before I even need to reveal that, no, I have not. Sure, there’s detectable resentment. Let this be my warts-and-all-open-letter that captures my ongoing struggle to arrive at this moment, along with my resolute hope in this ongoing search for that sacred single stroke. There are Tour Tales featuring household names that have never had an ace, but to save face from fact checkers and keyboard warriors I’ll keep those whispers to myself and find solace in their flimsy reality. Let me back the buggy up a bit here; in no way whatsoever am I comparing myself to the rare and refined quality of a tour pro. My recreational credentials consist of maintaining a four-to-seven handicap for a quarter century, with a game built on handy ball striking, fueled by a marriage-testing golf habit. Well, actually I did get married in a green jacket. Today is my 39th birthday. I began playing properly when I was 13, I’ve lost count at 50-odd eagles, some of them kick-ins, and I’m guessing about a dozen shots holed outside of 130 yards. But, somewhat importantly, zero holes-in-one.
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I listed those numbers not to be vain, but to help quantify the background: grapple par threes have come to signify me. ‘Everything but’ seems an accurate response when asked the dreaded question. Lipouts, hit flag, one roll short, a fraction long, pitch marks an inch away, and pure shots that pepper flags, but they’ve all stayed above ground. Don’t be fooled, there’s been a whole heap of garbage between close calls but I’ve never given up hope.
But the longer things drag on, the longer one starts to question unusual things. Shall I pay for that hole-in-one insurance? Does it count if I’m only playing nine holes? What if I’m playing by myself? Personally, I’ve never been a fan of playing golf on my lonesome, I’d much rather practice rolling the spud or giving my short game a tune up. But when I do happen to be on the course by myself, other than confessing to a tee box fetish, finding myself alone on a par three tee box is a haunting paradox. Deep down I don’t want it to happen, not now, not under these circumstances. So what’s the point of even hitting one? If a tree falls in the forest does it really make a sound? If a golfer gets a solo hole-in-one does it really count? For me, this bear ain’t shitting in these woods. That’s as good as a practice swing, I may as well just walk this one and save myself any mental catastrophe. Good call, better be safe than sorry. That’s what I’m dealing with.
As a widely known, self-confessed golf tragic, I’m often the first person friends and acquaintances think to call if they find the bottom of the cup with a single blow. On occasion, I knew the reason for the call before regrettably answering the phone. Awkward congratulations are passed on and once again my own golfing near-misses flash before my eyes. During the time of writing, my very own younger brother - of 14 years - buzzed to inform me he was no longer in the “yet to have a hole-in-one Club”. Of course he did. That ‘phone call really confirmed for me how random this game is. I was on a four handicap when he was in nappies. His golf is as wild as you’ve ever seen - it’s a minor miracle if he keeps it on the golf course when he steps onto some tee boxes. Concrete evidence of Golf Gods. How about an albatross? Faced with a decision of whether I’d take a rare albatross over an ace, I’d almost certainly go with the former. Albatross all day for me, never met a bad golfer who has had an albatross. Ideally on a par four too, that way I’d have both ticked off! A wee thrifty hole-in-one trophy wouldn’t suffice for a moment like that, that magic ball would get the gold-plated treatment - no expense spared. But in all honesty, I’m happy for my brother and I secretly like those shitty hole in one trophies, and I believe all the heartache is just setting me up to make my turn extra Ifspecial.allgolfers can be split across two groups: ‘the haves’ and ‘the have nots’, there’s comfort in knowing the golfing career of ‘the haves’ can also be split into two parts: Life Before A Hole-in-One, and Life After a Hole-in-One. To that end, I’ve never stopped believing I’m destined to join the haves, I simply haven’t written
DIVOTOLOGISTSTHE
Words by Kenny Pallas. by Graeme McCubbin.
Photography
KINGSBARNS
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It’s a wet April morning, the spring showers are quenching the beautiful links turf and the light is low. It’s 6am, and most of the paid greens staff haven’t even arrived, yet a small unlikely group have started to gather. Retired butchers, postmen and police officers make up some of the characters on show. No, this isn’t a group of lucky golfers awaiting an early tee time, this is a group of men from many different backgrounds who work to ensure the experience at Kingsbarns Golf Links is impeccable. With an absolute devotion to their roles, they show up religiously each morning, rain, wind or shine, ready to sprinkle some magic on the course. A golf course is a living and breathing entity: most golfers would agree on this. We visibly experience them hibernate through the winter, reawaken in the spring then flourish in summer before slowing back down in autumn. We also see that our courses need to be cared for and if we treat them correctly they will reward us with wonderful playing conditions. This is the story of the men who help take care of Kingsbarns, the Divotologists. What’s in a name? The Divotologist is a name you probably won’t be familiar with. It evokes imagery of a highly trained technician plying skills of agronomy to ensure pristine playing conditions. This wasn’t always the name that this unlikely group went by though. Originally they were known as “Patchers” but this moniker didn’t quite inspire the men as it should and they made their thoughts clear. One day, as course manager Innes Knight was about to thank the team for their work, he was pulled to one side for a conversation by Davie Waters, leader of Team A, or the “A Team” as he calls it. “I don’t like the name and I have a suggestion”. “We’d like to call ourselves the Divotologists” Davie said. The name is now proudly embroidered on their uniforms. It’s just a brilliant name, a name that grabs your attention and makes you eager to find out more of what these devoted gentleman do every morning. In fact, this story came to be because Graeme McCubbin from Team TLD was onsite for a tournament he was covering and heard the name dropped in conversation. Immediately he was compelled to investigate further.
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A Career Change
“I played the course a few years ago and I’m still trying to fix the mess I made”. This was the response from Rodger Tulloch when he was asked how he got into this gig. This is the kind of off-the-cuff line you can expect from the guys. They are as self-deprecating as they are happy to fire taunts at one another, “I don’t play much now, they wouldn’t let me on here with the way I play”.
“I played the course a few years ago and I’m still trying to fix the mess I made”.
Rodger and Davie Jardine, a former glazier, both talk about the fact that they are useless at housework and DIY so this job helps keep them busy during the day and away from the list of jobs their wives would no doubt have for them back at home. Jardine also says that he’s yet to find a Rolex on the course, that’s the dream that will allow him to give up on Divotology but until then he’ll keep doing it to stay fit. Working from 6am until 10am gives the guys the freedom of the day whilst keeping their minds and bodies active. That daily blast of fresh North Sea air must be good for the soul as much as it is good for the body. They take huge pride in making the course pristine for the eager guests each day.
Poking fun at the boss whilst we spoke, he joked that he had only just recently been provided with good waterproofs to weather the storms.
Rodger was a postman for over 50 years before the links lured him in. A man that has been walking miles and miles for decades now clocks up the steps around Kingsbarns. He loved his customers on the old postal route but now passes on that love to the links as he enters into his tenth year as a Divotologist.
A butcher by trade and former oil rig worker, Davie Waters has had an interesting career. When he finished up his career on the rigs he used his savings to buy his own butcher shop in Cupar. Things were going well until a large supermarket moved into the town. Overnight the shop was up for sale and it was time to figure out a new plan. He had had the chance to get into the Divotologist game 14 years ago, before they even had that name, however he decided it wasn’t the time. Having worked on the rigs, you can imagine that the often wicked weather on the links isn’t something new to Waters.
Never Late At most golf courses around the world no-one arrives before the greenkeeping team. Kingsbarns bucks that trend with the Divotologists. These men are never late and are almost always on-site before the greenkeepers.
In fact, their timekeeping is such that on one occasion one of the team was late and they had feared the worst.
“He was thirty minutes late and no-one is ever late, there must be a problem and it can’t be good. We didn’t know what to do so we called his wife to check in, turns out he forgot that he had a dentist appointment that morning. We thought he was dead, it’s the only possible reason for being that late” they laughed.
Timekeeping aside, there is a real camaraderie in this group. They constantly fire jokes at one another as they get on with their tasks. The energy is high and the skin has to be thick amongst the sharp witted repartees. Forgetting you have a dentist appointment and making everyone think you could have fixed your last divot is not a crime that is forgotten quickly in these ranks. This is part of the gig that all of the men talk fondly of.
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Members of each team relay how good the craic is as they claim that their respective team has better patter than the other. The rivalry is constant and a huge part of the great atmosphere within the collective. These men are never late and are almost always on-site before the greenkeepers. In fact, their timekeeping is such that on one occasion one of the team was late and they had feared feared the worst.
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The recipe of care and love for the course with this sprinkling of rivalry takes the team to a new level and results in Kinsgbarns being presented so perfectly to the golfer. The Dark Humour Working in a close band of brothers, especially in Scotland, tends to bring out a dark edge to the humour. An ability to laugh at the worst situations or joke about things that can be hard for some. They often refer to the gig as “God’s waiting room”. In fact, such is the dedication to preparing the links that one former Divotologists even had his ashes scattered on the Thiscourse.factcame up in conversation with Davie Waters. With an audibly nostalgic tone in his voice he said, “One of the boys even had his ashes scattered on the 12th tee”. At this point there was an unexpected pause, “Wait a minute, we’re about to move that tee! We’ll be moving him, better tell his wife”. There was also the incident at the Christmas party that was told entirely off the record. However, the gist is that the Divotologists know how to party and even showed the young apprentices how it’s done. Apparently this is still a touchy subject with many of the wives so we’ll leave this story there but if you are ever at Kingsbarns be sure to ask the guys about that rather memorable evening. Winding Down There is something so wholesome about the idea of caring for hallowed land, in all weathers, as the ultimate celebration of what golf means to you. To these men, this is a way of giving back to a game that has given them so much. Having the chance to spend their days in the open air and on the links is exactly how they want to spend their mornings. Many reach the post-work years and just wind down. They maybe go on a holiday or two, perhaps a cruise, and enjoy a life of leisure. Not the Divotologists, they have a new mission and a new reason to get up in the wee hours every morning. They are doing something that must be incredibly rewarding and, it really has to be said, that sounds like a bloody good way to spend retirement.
The Rivalry Arnie and Jack, Tiger and Phil, Europe and USA: golf is full of great rivalries. The Divotologists have their own rivalry that adds to this whole affair. The squad is split into three teams to cover the course. One team covers the front nine, one the back nine and another takes the tees. Team A, Team B and the Tee Divotologists are known to check each other work and constantly push each other.
During the pandemic, the lack of golf and golfers meant that the Divotologists had to be let go. This was a very unfortunate turn of events and you can tell the men really missed their time on the course during this period. Things got interesting as the golf started to return though. The absence of travelling golfers meant that the course was a lot quieter than usual and that a full compliment of Divotologists was still not needed. To keep as many guys active as possible, they took alternate weeks covering the whole course. They had a chance to see the other team’s work. This led to a huge amount of talk about which team was best and the mistakes the others had made. A team would show up to see a week’s worth of work from their rivals and endeavour to pick holes in their skills. The rivalry heated up as did the wisecracks going back and forth. Ultimately, the good-natured tension drives the Divotologists to do the exceptional work that they do.
Golfaholics
My name is XXXXXXXXXXXX, and I’m hopelessly addicted. I’m a golfaholic.
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I came here for some support, and to open up about my recent troubles. Everything has gone a bit wayward lately and I want to get back on the straight and narrow.
Anonymous
Auld Man Par habits die hard, they say. I’ve been hanging on dark corners with my bag of goods, waiting for that pick-me-up. I keep telling myself to quit, typically when I’m battling the effects from yesterday’s overindulgence. But still I come back for more. I’m a sucker for that hit. I’ve been trying to get a clean card, battling addiction one par at a time. It’s a daily fix right now, most mornings, every evening. Thirty six holes are just enough to keep the cravings at bay. In all honesty, life as a golf junkie has been a constant struggle. Shot after shot, all I can think about is hitting some green. I need that regulation. Make par. Make another. I used to have a tight-knit group of friends that I’d meet once a week, but now I’ll just do that dance with any old Charlie out there wandering alone. Who knows, maybe they know where I can get the golfer’s vaccine? Mark me down for two shots, and a booster. You know that feeling when you haven’t dabbled in a while, you take a break from it all and then return and it feels better than ever? Yeah, well, I haven’t had that feeling in decades, I can’t stay away long enough. The highs are just so intoxicating that I feel that rush before it strikes. Eyes closed, I visualise everything. When I’m in the zone it all unfolds exactly how I paint it up in my mind. See it, feel it, send it. Then I just let it go. It ignites an out-of-body-experience where it just happens. A sequence unfolds where I feel nothing, yet sense everything. The eye candy follows, silk ribbons drawn across the blue vista to the chorus of birds and cicada. I become that soaring, white-dimpled, magic eight ball. That’s the buzz I’m chasing, it’s why I can’t shake this addition. But sometimes it’s a bad buzz. On those days my mind is full of voices and everywhere I look I only see obstacles, trouble and temptation. The internal chatter takes over and it’s impossible to keep anything under control. I’m laid off, and I succumb to the dark side where things get wild. I find myself desperately wandering around long grass fields trying to find my gear. Or in the woods, head down, dragging feet, muttering to myself that somehow I’ll miraculously find a needle in a haystack. And even if I did, it’s hard to see any way out of this mess, and I’m not interested in taking my meds. Fuck it, what have I got to lose? I’ve got this shot in my locker. I’m torn. Stuck on a mental rollercoaster of agony and ecstasy, triumph and disaster, and I’m simply not interested in hopping off this ride. But like I said, I’m here to get on top of my addiction. I hate golf. I quit golf. I can’t wait to play tomorrow. Anyone fancy a hit?
Golf & Tea for Everyone
It was a perfect afternoon. The Kintyre hills were purple, the Kilbrannan Sound was that beautiful shade of blue just darker than the sky, and the Machrie course was lush, of which latter amenity the sheep and cows were taking full advantage. Fences, of course, kept these animals from soiling the greens, but did not prevent the rabbits from happily skipping around and making little scrapes.
Not much else is known about the details of the Hagen-Kirkwood four-ball match. The names of their local competitors have been lost to the mists of time.
On August 10th, 1937, a black Rolls-Royce carrying legendary four-time Open Champion Walter Hagen and his longtime traveling exhibition partner, Australian professional Joe Kirkwood. The Rolls pulled up to the bucolic Machrie Bay Golf Club on the Isle of Arran for their scheduled exhibition match with two local lads. Fourteen years later in 1951, the great S.L. McKinlay wrote an account of that day in the Glasgow Herald:
MACHRIE BAY
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It was reported that the local lads were 1-up after the opening nine holes, before Hagen played the second nine in a brilliant 30 strokes, resulting in a 3&1 triumph by the visitors. According to a news report of the day, Hagen and Kirkwood seemed to take it all in their stride, making jokes with their opponents and to the large, hastily assembled crowd of locals. On what was to be Hagen’s last trip to the United Kingdom, his traveling exhibition had gone to largely unknown Machrie Bay by mistake. Hagen had been advised by an American friend to be sure to visit Machrie on this exhibition tour– but his friend actually meant the much more celebrated Machrie Golf Club on the Isle of Islay. A beloved figure in Scotland, “Sir Walter” won the Open four times–the first Americanborn winner, in 1922 at Royal St. George’s and also at Muirfield in 1929–and an astonishing eleven major championships overall. Joe Kirkwood was regarded as the greatest trick-shot artist of the era and a great professional himself, having won the Australian, Canadian, and North & South Opens. He competed several times in the Open Championship. It somehow seems appropriate that The Haig, who did much to break down certain class barriers in professional golf, played one of his final rounds in Scotland at a simple, nine-hole, community golf course. These types of courses are still found throughout the country, particularly on the west coast and its islands. In many ways, they transport a golfer back to a less complicated time. Nine-hole courses such as Killin, Corrie, Traigh, Lochcarron, and Portmahomack demonstrate why Scottish golf is so unique and singular. If you have a chance to visit the beautiful Isle of Arran, it would be a mistake to miss Machrie Bay Golf Club.
Words by Jim Hartsell. Photography by Graeme McCubbin.
The welcome afforded here to visitors is friendly and authentic. This is the essence of Scottish golf. It’s golf for everyone.
Arran is somewhat underrated as a golf destination. There are a total of seven golf courses on this beautiful 168-square-mile island. Machrie Bay is generally overshadowed by more scenic courses, such as stunning Corrie on the eastern shore and the legendary Shiskine, just four miles away on the A841. Having played all day at Corrie the day before in summer 2021, I was scheduled to play Shiskine after lunch. On the spur of the moment, I decided to drive over to Machrie Bay and spend the morning walking around. When I arrived at 8 am, the tearoom was not yet open. I started walking towards what appeared to be the only obvious (and visible) path to a golf course.
Thankfully,40 not much has changed at this lovely wee course in the intervening 85 years since Hagen and Kirkwood’s chance visit. It was originally laid out by 1883 Open Champion Willie Fernie of Troon, perhaps on a visit to Arran while working on the original design of the more widely known (and not to be missed) Shiskine Golf and Tennis Club just down the road. Fences now keep the cows and sheep off the property, although the occasional rabbit scrape may still be found on the greens. The wonderful Machrie Bay Tea Room serves as the de facto clubhouse and a community gathering place. You can pay your green fees at the counter while ordering a bacon roll and tea. The welcome afforded here to visitors is friendly and authentic. This is the essence of Scottish golf. It’s golf for everyone.
Most42 Scottish greenkeepers seem to have a sixth sense for recognizing lost American golfers. Walking in exactly the wrong direction, I was greeted warmly by a man pushing a lawnmower. “Is this the way to the first tee?,” I asked. “No, no. There is a wee path behind the tearoom. Walk back around there to the left, and you’ll not miss it,” replied David Jefferies, as he gestured towards the small Jefferiesbuilding.isthe sole caretaker of Machrie Bay. After introducing himself, he explained how to get to the 2nd tee from the 1st green, which turned out to be very useful information: “You can either walk around to the left or right of the white house behind the green,” he said, “the path to the left may be a bit better just now. You’ll have no problems getting around after the 2nd. I’ll see you out on the course.”
The path itself to the 1st tee was wonderful – sandy, narrow, and winding through gorse, bracken, and other native plants – and it created a sense of anticipation for what was to come. After emerging from the dense vegetation, a prominent sign on the tee announces, somewhat sternly: MBGC HAVE YOU PAID YOUR GREEN FEES? HONESTY BOX ON HALL DOOR. I had not paid yet, but reckoned I would have lunch in the tearoom and would settle my debts then.
Most Scottish greenkeepers seem to have a sixth sense for recognizing lost American golfers.
Machrie Bay starts off brilliantly. The 1st hole, named Kilbrannan, is one of my favorites in Scotland. A 303yard par four, one can almost imagine the great Hagen peering out into the haar, trying to discern the line for his tee shot. It is semi-blind, with a massive patch of gorse and native plants on the left, and more rough ground down the entire right side. The Kilbrannan Sound, in all its glory on a clear day, is visible from the elevated tee, and it reveals itself once again when the gorse ends on the right. The 1st green is a one-off: carved directly into the side of a small dune, it allows the approach shot to be banked off an almost vertical wall of turf and back onto the green–sheer madness of the kind seemingly found solely on the west coast of Scotland. The view back over the green and down the 1st fairway, with the Sound beyond, has to be one of the best in golf. Following David Jefferies’ instructions, I took the winding path to the left around the lovely white cottage situated directly in the route to the 2nd hole. As often happens when I am in this country, I felt a brief moment of jealousy for whoever lived in such a perfect spot. The path winds through flowering native plants before arriving at the tee. The 2nd hole, named The Hummocks, is another great one. A 170yard par three, it plays over bracken and heathercovered mounds to a hidden green, with the majestic mountains of Arran in the distance. This hole would not be out of place at one of the great and revered Scottish courses like Panmure. After the triumph of this opening pair, things become a bit more prosaic, but no less fun. The ground is suddenly a bit flatter, and the next four holes –a par three, par four, par three, and a par four respectively–are challenging and pleasant. The 4th offers the most unique hazard of this group, with a long, roughcovered mound situated about 15 yards in front of the green. It is very unusual, as it staunchly defends the green against my favorite links shot: the low-running 8 iron that never gets more than a foot off the ground.
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The 6th, called The Glaik, is a fun 280-yard par four with a road along the right, leading to a wonderfully sited green.
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As I approached the 6th green, I saw the only other golfers on the course that morning. Teeing off on the 7th, which runs directly parallel to the 6th, was a foursome consisting of three girls and their dad, with their mother dutifully carrying the scorecard. I slowed down to watch them tee off, not wanting to catch up and rudely play through their game as a single. The two older girls appeared to be in their teens and had perfect golf swings–much better than their dad’s, it must be said. The youngest was around eight years old and not advancing the ball very well, but smiling like only an eight-year-old can who is playing golf with their dad on a perfect family Iholiday.stood silently as they all tee’d off and then turned to watch their next shots. It struck me that I was watching the essence of Scottish golf right before me: a family on holiday, walking around a beautiful golf course on a sunny day. Feeling confident that they were now far enough ahead of my pace, I finished the hole to find David Jefferies waiting for me on the 9th tee, which sits directly behind the 6th green. He turned off his mower and greeted me warmly, “How are you getting on?” “It’s wonderful,” I replied, “I love it.” We stood there and talked for several minutes. I learned that David was once the club champion at Corrie and had finished high in the standings at Shiskine over the years, until back issues started to affect his game. “I still play as much as I can, but I never know how my back will hold up. Everyone talks about Shiskine, but Corrie from the medal tees is quite challenging,” he told me, almost confidentially. He mentioned his son proudly, who is a golf course superintendent at an exclusive private club in Connecticut. “Imagine him with a staff of 20, and here I am taking care of this place all by myself,” he said with a laugh. I have had many pleasant conversations with Scottish greenkeepers over the years, and this one was no “Weexception.don’t get many Americans here. What brought you out today?” I mentioned my long-time interest in the infamous Walter Hagen match, but then got to the real reason why I was spending a precious Scottish morning at Machrie Bay. “This is the kind of golf that I love the most,” I said, gesturing towards the 9th fairway and the impossibly blue water beyond. “Aye,” said David, “this is the true game.” Then, as if suddenly waking from a reverie, he said, “well, that’s me. It’s time for tea. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He walked off quickly towards the tearoom and was gone.
“This is the kind of golf that I love the most,” I said, gesturing towards the 9th fairway and the impossibly blue water beyond.
I actually started laughing when I had to wait for a few cars to pass, before I could hit my approach. I love holes like this one. They are embraced and celebrated in Scotland like nowhere else in the world. All of this adds up to 2,262 yards, and a strict par of 33. The Haig’s score of 30, so many years ago in 1937, seems even more impressive today. A short walk across the road gets us back to the Machrie Tea Room for lunch. The concept of the community tearoom seems to have been perfected on Arran, as the small and welcoming cafés are sprinkled judiciously around the island. I see the lovely family of five from the 7th hole sitting outside at a table filled with pastries, tea, and hot chocolate. The older girls are looking at the Settlingscorecard.my £15 green fee, I ordered mushroom soup and a cheese toastie. The friendly lady at the counter asked me how I enjoyed the course. “It was perfect,” I said. Golf, and tea, for everyone.
The50 7th hole is a 280-yard par four with bracken ferns in abundance down the entire right side. A slightly errant tee shot can be easily lost. At the 8th tee, we head directly back out towards the vast Kilbrannan Sound. This 252-yard par four is great fun, with the crowned, elevated green appearing to float above the water beyond. This is a lovely hole, and a good chance for a birdie. It is a fitting prelude to the wild 9th, called the Road Hole. I must admit to being partial to quirky holes. The island of Arran may be home to the greatest collection of them in the entire world. The Road Hole at Machrie Bay, a 246-yard par four, deserves a spot in the pantheon of the unusual. From an elevated tee, the fairway tumbles wildly down for about 170 yards to a hedge of heather and gorse: the boundary of the A841. This is a somewhat heavily traveled road, filled with people just off the Lochranza ferry on their way to Blackwaterfoot or Brodick. The green sits on a narrow strip of land between the road and the ocean. The first time I visited Arran, my son and I drove by the green on the way to Shiskine and didn’t even realize there was an entire golf course on the left side of the road. I remember Jake saying, “Look Dad, somebody put a practice green down by the water.” Standing on the 9th tee, you might be tempted to drive over the road and onto the green. There is just no way that a ball traveling from the heights of that tee would ever stop on that putting surface. Even a perfectly struck drive would finish up on the beach or in the water. You are left with no option but to hit a 7 or 8 iron off the tee in order to lay up at the end of the fairway. This leaves a semi-blind, 60-yard pitch that must be timed to avoid the traffic on the A841. Fortunately, you can hear the cars approaching in the distance, which helps you judge when to hit the ball.
Words by Murray Bothwell. Photography by Robbie Spriddle. Artwork by Tight Lies Golf Art.
PLAYING THE OLD COURSE IN REVERSE STRANGEKEEPINGITRIGHTSEEMS
The original links were laid out with greens used for both inward and outward holes, and in 1857 Allan Robertson, the Head Greenkeeper of the day, started cutting a second hole on each green to prevent golfers meeting each other from opposite directions, playing to the same cup. White flags were introduced to indicate an outward hole, and red flags the inward, although uniquely the 18th flag on the Old Course is white: it was thought that a red flag would blend in to the old Hamilton Hall building behind the green and affect the golfer’s vision of the hole. The large double greens were sufficient to accommodate these burgeoning groups of players and their caddies, and the introduction of separate tee boxes and wider fairways began to ease the congestion. In the 1870s Tom presented the Old Course’s singular green at the 1st hole, removing the need for it to double-up with the 17th. A counter-clockwise alternative now became feasible, and almost all championships were played in this direction, although the 1886 British Amateur was played over the original clockwise/reverse route. From 1872 to at least 1904 golfers played the Old Course on a rotating directional basis, and occasionally until at least 1920. The current procession of holes gained in popularity and the original reverse rotation was discarded in the 1970s. However, the format was re-instated recently for a St Andrew’s Day event to which the local golf clubs were invited and these rounds of the Reversed Old Course (ROC) proved very popular. The 2021 event took place on the 27th November and brought back that earliest course design, where the opening target sits well to the left of today’s 1st green.
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It’s easily identified by using any online aerialmapping tool: sandwiched between the peripheral white buggy track to its northern edge and the darker tarmac’d road to its south, you can pick out the loose shape of an angled hockey stick, cutting right through the middle of the headland. Back in the day, of course, the original trail for golf’s 22 hallowed holes was plotted through non-descript areas of scrub and linksland, machair and rough grass. Choosing the eventual routing for its 18 holes from a potentially infinite number of options, those which have subsequently become the other four excellent 18-hole courses, is a testament to the skills of those pioneer golfers, not least Daw Anderson and Tom Morris. History wasn’t weighing heavily on their shoulders though... there was no precedent here at St Andrews, just a peninsula of sheep-nibbled hillocks and sandy ground.
The creators of the Old Course at St Andrews knew a thing or two about laying out a golf hole. Seen from above, the Old Course is a well-defined golfing estate occupying a very narrow strip of land between the later-constructed Eden and New Courses.
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What benefits are there in designing a reversible course? There are a number of new builds around the world which have adopted this format, such as Tom Doak’s 2016 ‘The Loop’ at Forest Dunes in Roscommon in Michigan. For him, one of the hardest parts of the design was not laying out the fairway corridors but making sure the greens would be receptive to approach shots when playing both the eventually-named Red and Black courses. The large green complexes at the Old Course, and its many fairways with no obvious outlines, were no doubt influencers in his strategies. Erik Anders Lang was impressed with the infinite shot selection this design demanded of his game and, as the most creative thing he’d ever seen in modern golf, he felt that it lent itself to the type of golfer who’s willing to examine their own game. The merits of a two-for-one approach were highlighted in Wethered and Simpson’s 1929 golf course design classic, ‘The Architectural Side of Golf’. In a chapter that deals with ‘The Reversible Course’ they explain, using St Andrews, how the opportunity to flip the course around enables the turf to heal by distributing heavily-divoted areas over two landing zones, and not one. The course instantly becomes more interesting to play with the change in views and yardages, and any experience gained by using the prevailing wind is rendered useless when playing the holes in different directions. “You get two courses for the same money,” they wrote “and as regards the additional pleasure gained by a change of direction it is only necessary to think of the experience of motoring along a country road and returning the same way. Two entirely different aspects of scenery are provided.”
Why would someone put so many hidden bunkers on a course?
The answer is, quite simply, that they’re only hidden when you play the course in today’s counter-clockwise direction. Many of the courses’ 112 bunkers, and other design characteristics, begin to make more sense only when played the other way around.
If you’ve not played the Old Course then your appreciation of its subtleties and strategies may have been formed by watching television broadcasts from over the years. Panoramic vistas delivered by cameramen hanging off the end of a windswept crane arm, the memorable comments of Peter Allis and Ken Brown or watching pitch-and-run shots that start offline but magnetically seem to run to the pin don’t really help to give a true feel for the course. The camera flattens out the strange path which some long putts take and can’t fully give you that appreciation of the borrows, valleys, swales and slopes which lie in wait to snag your score on each and every green. And there are holes which seem as though the fairway has been shot with a bunker blunderbuss, yet the television cameras at the back of the tee don’t see them. Why would someone put so many hidden bunkers on a course? The answer is, quite simply, that they’re only hidden when you play the course in today’s counter-clockwise direction. Many of the courses’ 112 bunkers, and other design characteristics, begin to make more sense only when played the other way around.
The St Andrews Links Trust now provides golfers with a detailed scorecard and yardage book for the playing of the clockwise/reverse route. Somewhat alarmingly, when you open it, you realise you are starting the day with the most difficult hole on the course. And to paraphrase U2, the holes have no names. They simply read “1st tee to 17th green”, “18th tee to 16th green” and so on, along with a helpful yardage. For the rest of this article, and to hopefully help avoid confusion for the reader, holes will simply be referred to as “playing the 17th fairway” or “playing the 2nd fairway” where possible, as it may be easier to picture them in your Theremind.
are plenty of golfers who have stood on that first tee, aligned themselves and their club straight down the 1st fairway, yet ended up way over to the left, just where a good tee shot for this opening ROC drive needs to land. In the process, they will have caused a few fellow golfers on the 18th, and their caddies, to hurl themselves to the ground in the likely expectation of meeting Old Tom Morris in that great 19th hole in the sky. Choosing not to aim into the safe pocket loop of the Swilcan Burn is an odd sensation.
Alistair Belford, a member at Prestwick St Nicholas, has experienced this. When he and his friends turned up at the Starter’s Hut, they were surprised to hear that they’d be playing it “the wrong way round” that day.
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After a number of attempts by the Starter to explain the sequence to them being met by a bucket of blank stares, they were handed the day’s card, told to follow the game in front and enjoy themselves. “Instead of looking straight down to the 1st we scanned a bit to the left, towards the 17th green, and off we went,” said Alistair. “The first mistake (of many that day) was not giving that first tee shot our full attention. We all tee’d off, hitting down just left of centre which obviously wasn’t great when we reached our drives. By not hitting it far enough left, none of us had a shot into the 17th that had any chance of hitting/staying on the narrow green. All we could see on the right was the left side of the Road hole bunker, and the road itself on the left. I can’t remember what we scored, as it’s over 30 years ago, but there were definitely no twoputt pars. The proper line is hitting it as far left as you dare to at least give you a chance of an easier shot to the green”. Alistair also said he has never returned to play the Old Course “the right way round”, so he may be unique in his experience of having only ever played it in reverse. With SI 1 behind you, you leave the Road hole bunker to the following group and walk confidently over to the 18th tee. You’ve already crossed the mottled sandstone of the Swilcan Bridge which now sits behind you as you face the Old Course Hotel. This feels unusual. It has become a different course, a different perspective on the tight fairways and boundaries of the links. The caddies will normally suggest “keep it left” all the way round the Old Course, but in this round it’s the opposite. 19th century slicers might have looked forward to this route around the course. The Jigger Inn lies about 180 yards away, and a hook is going to put one of their windows out. This isn’t really an issue for them on a normal routing, except for an excessive slice that might land in their beer garden. It’s also your first encounter with the Old Course’s bunkers. The two large bunkers that lie in the heather and thick grass ahead, between the 17th and the 2nd fairways, are no longer hidden; Scholar’s steep face, the furthest one, is now right in your line of sight. Cheape’s bunker, which should never come into play on the 17th hole of the Old Course, plays a pivotal role in this second hole of the reversed layout.
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Looking for a flat lie, your eyes are drawn to its intimidating face and position in the narrowing fairway, beyond the island of thick grass which separates the 2nd and 17th fairways. This lone bunker (named after the original golfing owner of the course, who bought the land off a group of feuding rabbit farmers and proceeded to give it to the R&A) now dominates your decision-making. Do you decide to hug the left-hand side of the hole and lay up short of it, leaving a better angle to the entrance of the (normal) 16th green, or do you go longer and further right, leaving a shorter but trickier approach over humps and hollows? Hotel guests are watching from what they perceive to be the safety of their balconies. It’s a daunting shot with no real fairway to run in from, possible players hidden on the 17th tee behind the Sheds, and the OB lying very close to the left beyond the Hotel. It’s an early insight to the rest of your day. Golfers who have played the course in reverse remember this shot particularly clearly, occurring so early on in their game. The idea of angles and strategy are immediately evident and within ten minutes of the reversed course you’re already faced with some bold decisions to make. You need to hit to where you see short grass for safety, and yet finding the easy side of the fairways can often result in making the hardest shot to the green. Aggressive, even blind, shots off the tee will most likely give you the better entry line to these greens... the same strategy, for a different layout over the same links. Mesmerising. It’s a layered and confusing concept to try and dissect the “normal” course as you play, so the general rule is not to: this is a different course. It’s quite likely that, by now, your imagination has leapt and you’re standing on the 1st tee of your own course, and anticipating how you would play that in reverse if Committee had a sudden rush of blood to the head. You’re already feeling the new blind shots, the demanding long carries, awkward dog-legs that would put one or two windows out… The OB lies tight down the left-hand side of the 16th fairway where the old railway line ran, and the following four holes run tight along the boundary of the Eden course. What now becomes apparent is that some of the bunker positions and tapered fairways are cleverly duplicitous, such as the famously-named Principal’s Nose on the (normal) 16th fairway, catching the well-hit ball off the tee on either the clockwise or counter-clockwise route. With no obviously defined fairways in the flat middle of the links, a feature of the Old Course, small pot bunkers like Sutherland can swallow your tee-shot up when you think you’ve played it safe past the delicatelynamed Miss Grainger’s Bosoms. If you’ve been lucky enough to play the Old Course before, you’re already longing for the memory of the familiar clockwise layout that is, albeit as punishing, not as visually stressful when standing on these new tees. And yet, you never really feel as though you’re walking the wrong way. Each hole stands on its own merit and uses snapshots of views you’ve grown accustomed to over the years. Humps and hollows throw the ball in familiar, awkward links bounces, and rough walkways off the tees have now become your target line. The years of playing the course counter-clockwise have defined the experience for the modern golfer, so when having to ponder playing up tee paths to access nearby greens, as well as avoiding hillocks of gorse that now block your line to the hole, your options rapidly diminish. One thing that does help, and it’s a rule for most courses, is to try and make a note of later pin positions on the card as you pass them on parallel fairways. With large, double greens, one stretching to 100 yards, the centres could be around 40 yards from where the pin that you are aiming for is lying. Uniquely, St Andrews has four single greens and the rest are doubles, where you’ll also find that the numbers of the two holes always add-up to eighteen.
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The Eden course lies just over the OB road to your left when you reach the 330-yard seventh hole at the 13th tee. Ahead, you can see the crests of the 12th fairway’s bunkers, hidden to the path of play on a normal day, and now you fully appreciate the intricacies of Anderson and Morris’ design. Stroke bunker and, closer to the green, the deep hollow of Admiral’s bunker, rise up to gather your shot. Do you fly it over the latter or lay-up short with a long iron into a tight landing area? Or do you carry Admiral’s to reach a much wider fairway, where you then have a wedge rather than an obscured seven iron to reach a complex and tricky putting surface? The bunkers haven’t finished with you yet. Hill bunker runs across the face of the green on your approach. Miss it left, and you’re in a huge hollow that leads down to the shore path. Miss right, and the pothole Strath bunker will swallow you up, cleverly set into the putting area and catching errant shots that have missed Hill and Shell on either side. More than any other hole in the reversed layout, this one feels designed almost perfectly for play in this direction. The bunkers can be seen and a decision has to be made. At this point, your admiration for the game played with hickories and gutties is taken to a whole new level. The first par-3 plays next, down the 11th fairway, and you have a relatively easy and open angle into the 10th green. Rated SI 17, this hole measures 187 yards and runs straight across the front edge of the (normal) 11th green. There’s really no trouble at all, unless you pull it severely left. Ideally, you’re walking off with a par. After another short climb up a nearby mound, you’re at the ninth tee of this round and changing direction. Contemplating the billiard table-like expanse of the parallel 9th and 10th fairways ahead, there’s a relatively straightforward choice between risk and reward to reach the single 9th green. The bold drive is to go straight for the 279-yard par-4, carrying the 10th fairway’s second cut, gorse and hummocks plus the three small pot bunkers lying nestled together at around 200 yards in the rough. The OB lies tight to your right. Safety lies on the flat fairway to its left, but Boase’s and End Hole bunkers lie there, again at about 200 yards, located down the centre of the wide fairway. Safely off the tee, your approach shot into the green might get snagged if you pull it left with the sneakily-hidden Cronje bunker peeking out from behind a wall of gorse. In common with many naming patterns of golf courses in the late 1800s, Cronje refers to a wide-brimmed felt hat worn by some military units that had one side pinned up onto its crown. Keep your wits about you and a par-4 should be easy. Then it’s time to hit the back nine… or is it the front
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There’snine? a sense of déjà vu here. Playing the 10th fairway to reach the 8th green is much the same as playing the normal 10th hole: it’s just that the approach for the average hitter may not be as devoid of bunkers as it would normally be to the 10th. A raised mound of thick grass and gorse bushes subtly protects the right quarter of the double green, along with the Kruger bunkers and two other pot bunkers so position is everything, and aiming slightly left for the 10th pin to come back across is the safe option. Out here, in the middle of the Old Course loop, you’ve almost forgotten what the original directions off the tees were. Any prior play knowledge blows away on the breeze. The next tee shot, off the 9th tee, assures the golfer of a relatively clear view of the large double 7-11 green. Aside from the sheer narrowness of its putting surface running across your line of sight, there’s very little to distract you on this 172-yard, SI 10 hole. And that’s the par-3s done and dusted.
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From the tee, through short-cut paths between small hills of thick grass you eventually reach your ball on the short stuff and are faced with golf’s perennial challenge – strategy or strength? It’s still around 250+ yards to the pin, and the fairway ahead is full of heavily undulating ground, old hollows and devious slopes... but at 175 yards all the short grass disappears. To your left there’s a path leading off to the 5th tee… but you can’t see your target of the 4th green because of a raised mound of marram, fescue and gorse. To your right there’s a sweeping arc of a path, heading down to the 14th green and skirting Hell bunker. Neither route seems a safe place to be taking your third shot from.
Standing at the 8th tee with the Eden estuary behind you, the furthest-away point of the Old Course from the town, Fife’s big skies are both impressive and memorable. Your mind turns back to the matter in hand, and you realise that there’s no obvious line from this tee to reach the 6th green. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy, inspired and impressed, all at the same time. You just can’t see it, and it’s a perfect example of the challenges which you’ll face in playing the ROC. Given that it’s SI 14, the sensible option to play its 369 yards is to launch your drive over the 7th green, over Shell bunker and towards the March Stone, ideally finding the open space between Admiral’s and Stroke bunkers on the 12th fairway. Of course, this routing will find you exchanging stories with fellow golfers coming up today’s seventh hole (13>11) who are equally doing their level best to avoid those very same bunkers. It’s worth mentioning that the H&S issues which would cause the Trust such a headache today if the course were regularly available for clockwise play posed no significant issue for the golfing technology and numbers playing the game in the mid-to-late 19th century. Choosing this right-hand route down the fairway now demands making a final obscured shot to the green over gorse, and it’s easy to find the deep, short-mown gully which lies to the back of the green which is bisected with a valley. It’s quite a challenge to gauge the pace of your shot up such a steep slope as this using your putter. It’s also not uncommon to ponder this as you have another go. The thirteenth on the ROC card, a SI 4 hole, necessitates following the merging parallel 6th and 13th fairways. A 230-yard drive over a small, low forest of gorse will leave you beyond the Coffin bunkers which separate the two fairways, yet still short of the quickly narrowing path that rises up and through the gorse to where the Cat’s Trap and Lion’s Mouth bunkers lie… another example of bunkers coming into their own in this routing. What follows is a semi-blind second shot of 180+ yards over a gorsecovered ridge which closes in from both sides, over the heads of golfers putting on today’s fifth green (the 13th green) to beyond where the 5th flag normally sits on this double-green complex. Again, H&S is an issue here where greens are orientated east-west as opposed to north-south, and there really is no easy way around it. Eastward lies the 5th fairway, famous in normal play for its dune-embedded Spectacle bunkers. The ponderous valley behind the ridge beautifully protects the 5th green from any short approach shots. Of course, in reverse, you can’t even see the Spectacles. A 200- to 250-yard drive on this par-5 will land you around the neck of the 5th fairway, where it narrows to around 17 yards wide. This is not such an issue when played in the “normal” direction: perhaps this protected run-out strategy was part of the original ROC design, still adopted by architects to this day?
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Adrenalin begins to pump in preparation for a blind third into the green. The two Ginger Beer bunkers lie in wait for any shot leaked right. You have to be on target, regardless of which route you’ve chosen.
Remember though that this is a 519-yard par-5, so plotting your way down the fairway and taking three to get to the green is a very good result.
With sixteen holes under your belt, and familiar views around you, perhaps it’s time to throw your Strategy Hat away, and open the shoulders up? An arrowstraight drive from the tee will carry the rough all the way down the left side of the 2nd fairway, flirting with the northern boundary of the course, and into a contracting corridor of short grass. This is the riskiest line. Some solitary, tall, bushy shrubs and gorse guard any low-struck shot though, so the safe play is to aim further right, perhaps with a draw if you can call one up on a whim, away from the OB and towards the landing area left of Cheape’s bunker. However, hit your drive more than 200 yards and you’ll have hit it too far, leaving the fairway behind and rolling into the island of thick grass which separates the 2nd and 17th fairways. Golfers hitting in hope over the Old Course Hotel’s Black Sheds often find this scrubby sanctuary from the other side, and it does nothing for their approach shot into the Road hole green. By taking on the tight, protected (left) side of the 2nd fairway you’re rewarded with the best angle and easier approach, although thick grass lies in wait just off the front edge of the green. Choose not to gamble off the tee by hitting it well right and you’ll escape any trouble, but you leave yourself a longer, more obstructed second shot, both in view and thanks to the mounds around the green that are ready to propel your ball forward. Whilst you can’t see it clearly, your target here is also protected at its rear by a potentially quick drop into the Swilcan Burn, which you might not see should it happen. Having said that, you do have over 40 yards of green to play with. Take a look at your score to here and decide on a game plan. Placing your ball on a tee for the last time, the view to the 18th green from the 2nd tee feels, well, almost normal. There’s the familiar silhouetted roofline of the grand old hotels, townhouses and apartments which adorn the historical Golf Place and The Links. The Himalayas Putting Green sits tightly to your left, reaching the edge of the serpentine Swilcan Burn that protects the approaches to the 1st green. Around 230 yards off the tee lies Grannie Clark’s Wynd, the now-tarmac’d path which cuts across the 1st and 18th fairways. There’s no free drop should you land on it, so knowing your normal driver yardage and not your once-in-a-lifetime best is key. That risk-reward game plan of the last seventeen holes is less imperative now in order to reach the far corner. You do have to avoid golfing groups on the 1st though, and you do have to avoid the OB on the left, which is nearer today because you’re playing off the 2nd tee. And the OB on the far right is definitely reachable at about 200 yards if you line up on the Rusacks Hotel. Safely away, you pop your driver back in the bag and leave the tee to cross the Burn straight ahead by a rather ordinary small bridge, and not the iconic Swilcan Bridge over to your right which some have estimated may be around 700800 years old. If you decide to soak up the atmosphere again on its stone span though, just remember those players still hitting into the 17th green from the 1st tee and fairway…
The town is growing closer now, and the end of this special round draws near. The left of The Old Course Hotel is your line, and at SI 12 this hole implies that it’s much easier than the last one. Really? This sixteenth hole on the ROC card takes you down the 307 yards of the 3rd fairway, Cartgate (Out). The short grass in this reverse direction dramatically runs out at around 175 yards. The more important aspect of your alignment off the tee is to avoid the white buggy path down the left, sitting incredibly tight as an OB and yet your most direct route to the hole. This can only be a strategic play. You can either hit two successive shots of around 170 and then 140 yards, the second shot semi-blind to the 2nd green where there’s only a tenyard-deep landing area prior to the green’s edge. Or, if your drive can carry 270 yards or more, then take on the green and leave yourself a chip from the rough or the teeing area to the left of the green to make birdie perhaps. Take a slow, deep breath, and hit…
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That final walk up the 18th never changes, and approaching the Valley of Sin you try to absorb the uniqueness of the course you’ve just enjoyed. The playing experience of trying to find successful and strategic routes to the pin has itself added the strokes to your card, and you realise that your game today has consisted of hitting all the right shots, but not necessarily in the right order. Are the approaches to these greens more challenging when played in reverse? Certainly; the counter-clockwise layout over the years has created large areas of gorse and scrub that would not have existed when playing the clockwise course in the past, and now need to be carried off the tee. The reduced number of extended aprons around the greens for those lengthy pitchand-runs of links golf is telling, and equally the nervousness of accurately flying the ball in to the pin across already-populated greens is significant. Largely unknown to the vast majority of golfers around the globe, there have always been two exceptionally good golf courses here using the one location, providing two distinctly different appearances for each green complex. The latest incarnations of reversible courses are often associated with a commercial stay-and-play mindset, encouraging resort-style destination golf.
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At St Andrews, it was simply about making use of the available ground at the time to provide golfers with the interesting contest of playing an alternative course on their doorstep that also saved on the wear and tear of the links.
The experience of a day’s golf over the reversed Old Course is rather special and it’s now predominantly the members of the St Andrews Links courses who get the chance to play it each November when the clockwise route, with its imaginative designs, comes to life once more. But, if you know someone there then maybe, just maybe, you too can play this memory of a course which, like Brigadoon, appears all too briefly then disappears once again into the mists of time.
Words by Murray Bothwell. Photography by Stuart Currie.
MONTROSE LINKS Nature’sWickedSlice
The 1st tee at Montrose is as real as it gets. As you excitedly push your tee into the firm turf you’re separated from the world as you knew it 30 minutes ago by only a small wooden fence that simply defines the tee from the passing cars on Traill Drive and, across the road, the Pro Shop / Starter. Nothing fancy. No terraces overlooking this, the 5th oldest golf course in the world. Yes, Carnoustie is just down the road but this course will give you as much, if not more, enjoyment than battling your way around its Championship course. It’s just you and the “1562” Links ahead, which rise to the first green some 391 yards away. Arriving at your ball with the prevailing wind behind is a useful asset here as you launch your second shot to the top of the dunes. Things become more of a challenge though with a strong easterly. It’s only when you reach the crest of the dunes, and in particular the second tee, that you appreciate the challenge of the wind. Playing the second hole with a prevailing wind you are faced with a tee shot that might well be pushed (sliced) left to right and out beyond the line of steeply-cliffed dunes, their sandy bases some 10 metres below you in a 5 kilometre stretch all the way north to St Cyrus and the estuary of the River North Esk. So you choose a line away from the dunes (towards the seemingly endless wall of gorse on the left) and wonder if it would be better for your game today if the wind were coming from Denmark? Well, yes, perhaps it would. But in the longer term, and without man’s intervention, definitely not.
82 There is nothing more gratifying than that first view of an undiscovered links, stretching out ahead of you in a palette of endless shades of green and yellow and promising a lifetime of memories. Sending your ball flying down the neatly-cut fairway, in the same way that many thousands of golfers have done before, fills your head with expectations of the round ahead.
84 Links with a history Golf has always featured prominently in the history of Montrose. As courses began to flourish across the country following the rise in its popularity in the late-19th century, the coastal links of Montrose were already prepared to accept a rush of enthusiasm for the game. The town can trace its golfing pedigree back over four hundred years making it one of the very earliest and important venues in the history of the game. That knowledge is credited to a young Montrose lad by the name of James Melville for recording the existence of golf at Montrose as early as 1562, more than twenty years before Mary Queen of Scots, golf’s first lady player, suffered a nasty slice. His diary records that as a sporty six-year-old in Montrose he was taught to play many different sports including archery “and how to use the glubb for goff”. Being born in 1556 it follows that the game was being played in the town on, and very probably well before, 1562. John Wood’s 1822 map of Montrose shows the “golf ground” lying south of its “1562” Links location, encircling an area called The Faulds which lay between the town and the dunes to its east. This little island of industry was broken into thin strips of adjoining properties, running west to east, and owned by the Kirk, the Hospital and a number of wealthy local landowners. Today this land is predominantly residential with its streets running along the same narrow lines as the original property boundaries. It’s unlikely that many of the residents know that their houses stand on what were flax mills, rope works and golfing links. The old golf course snaked its way across sandy parkland between this industrial area and the town’s eastern edge, laterally called the Middle Links, where it was less than a hundred yards across before widening to the north in the Burgh Lands. Anyone familiar with playing modern golf courses that weave their way through canyons of expensive property developments will enjoy the same feeling those 19th century golfers would have done. By 1849, the old Middle Links area had ceased to be used for golf as it was almost entirely surrounded by industrial and residential property, cut off at its northern end by the new 1848 Aberdeen Railway branch line which had begun to bring visiting golfers to the courses. Rail services were transferred in 1934 to the station on the west side of town overlooking the Basin and this land, now free of its bisecting railway line, was developed as a procession of lovely tree-lined, individually-designed parks and leisure areas, a kilometre long in total, separating this residential area from the older town. That knowledge is credited to a young Montrose lad by the name of James Melville for recording the existence of golf at Montrose as early as 1562, more than twenty years before Mary Queen of Scots, golf’s first lady player, suffered a nasty slice. His diary records that as a sporty six-year-old in Montrose he was taught to play many different sports including archery “and how to use the glubb for goff”.
Musselburgh at the same time had only five. The town celebrated that fact in 1866 with an advert in the national press announcing an “Open Championship to be held on Montrose Links. Over 25 holes, being One Round of the Golf Course”. It retains the record for the longest round ever used in professional golf. The very first Open Championship had been played only six years previously and many matches between the best golfers were often still played as wagers on behalf of their sponsors. Therefore, the cash prizes on offer in that unique tournament exceeded what the professionals were playing for, and the field came from far and wide to take part. Foremost among the competitors were Willie Park of Musselburgh, winner of the first Open Championship at Prestwick, who finished second with a score of 115, and Andrew Strath, the reigning Open Champion, who finished fourth on 119, as did Jamie Anderson of St Andrews, a future three times winner of The Open. Old Tom Morris, also an Open winner, only managed to score
121 and Robert Kirk won third prize with 117. The overall winner was William Doleman, the leading amateur in the 1865 Open and a member of both The Glasgow Club and Prestwick St Nicholas, with a score of 112. At the time, he was delivering bakeries in Glasgow, though he is better known in golf as the first named golfer to play in Canada, when he visited there as a sailor in 1854.
The numbers playing golf grew and for a population of around 14,500 the town could name up to 13 individual clubs or societies by the end of the 19th century. Artisan clubs with names such as Montrose Sawmills, The Mechanics, The Weavers and The Flexdressers reflected the diversity of the trades in the town. A 1902 map shows the property of the Ladies Golf Club House at the southern end of the links, near the Royal Albert Golf Club House, the Golf Hotel and the old Panmure Barracks. All of these clubs have, over the decades, been amalgamated or just disappeared. In 1986 the then Royal Albert, the Victoria and North Links Ladies golf clubs merged to form the Royal Montrose Golf Club. The Montrose Golf Club itself was founded in 1810, and is the ninth oldest golf club in the world. It changed its name to Montrose Royal Albert Golf Club in 1845 after Prince Albert granted it Royal patronage, making it the 3rd oldest royal club in the world after the R&A and the Royal Perth Golfing Society. The latest Montrose golf club to form, The Royal Montrose Mercantile Golf Club, opened on Friday, November 1 2019 after the merger between the town’s Royal and Mercantile clubs who jointly decided to fight back against a nationwide slide in the sport’s popularity. Now only two clubs remain - The Royal Montrose Mercantile Golf Club and the Caledonia Golf Club - who jointly administer the “1562” course through a Links Trust.
Montrose - a golfing Mecca William Coull’s book, Golf in Montrose, describes and maps out the full area of John Jamie’s East Links and Montrose course. The course consisted of a round of 17 holes measuring about 6,120 yards with holes 3 to 9 running north, tucked tightly behind the eastern dunes, in a perfectly linear fashion. The course actually had 11 holes, played anti-clockwise, so golfers played holes 5 to 10 twice with a very, very long walk back from 10 to 5! Other holes were subsequently added and a small course on the south links provided at least 25 holes, though there is no evidence that they were all routinely played. From 1863, the annual medal was played over 18 holes, technically making Montrose the second oldest 18hole golf course after the Old Course. By the mid-19th century Montrose Links had more holes in play than anywhere else in the world:
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Time and tide wait for no man… All this history helps you appreciate the significant issues now facing the town, its golfing history and its fight with nature. It’s worth pondering as you stand on the second tee, and later at the sixth, feeling the shifting breeze from the North Sea and examining the crumbling dunes, whilst scanning the shoreline for someone who may see you frantically waving and be daft enough to consider climbing up to the fairway with your ball. In common with a number of clubs on the eastern edge of the UK, climate change and a slowly re-bounding landmass after the last Ice Age are contributors to a devastating impact on these fragile coastal margins where links golf has been played for hundreds of years. Additionally, industrial development which in some cases has hardened sections of the coast to protect installations has led to unintended repercussions further along the shore.
Perhaps between 35 and 40 metres of beach have been lost to the sea since the early 1990s, with a confirmed 10 metres in just the past 10 years. At this rate the Montrose coastline could wear away irrevocably over the next 40 years, taking this important stretch of golfing history with it and a breach in the dunes even exposing the town itself to the risk of flooding.
An 1833 map produced by the Hydrographic Office shows the coast to the south of Montrose’s River South Esk estuary protected by natural rock formations, leading up to the Scurdie Ness promontory after which the 1st hole is named. On the opposite, northern, side of the river mouth used to lie the huge sand banks of the Annat Sand, a large drifting deposit which protected the dunes further up the coast towards the current location of the Montrose Links. That bank of sand is now severely depleted due to recent winter storms (the Beasts from the East) and is no longer shielding the golf course from nature’s coastal drift, resulting in shelves of marram and heather, and previously lost golf balls, tumbling down to the shore.
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The safety shot for golfers playing the second hole in the early 1900s would, today, see them land squarely amongst the debris at the bottom of the dunes. With the coastline retreating more rapidly since the 1980s, at up to two metres a year, it’s fair to say that the members of the two remaining clubs have witnessed the greatest changes in the course’s long history.
Montrose is not alone when it comes to tidal encroachment though: the Dynamic Coast project has identified at least 18 Scottish links courses with erosion problems including Royal Dornoch, North Berwick’s West Links and the whole of the St Andrews estate. Each of these courses has its own unique history, its own perennial battles pitted against nature and a heritage whose story deserves to be experienced by today’s golfers whilst its original design still exists.
The “1562” course at Montrose is the epitome of classic links golf – undulating fairways, pot bunkers, springy yet quick draining turf with nature’s flora in the first cut, bountiful gorse, sand and fantastic greens. Those holes that run alongside the rugged Angus coastline and sit today upon its marram-clad dunes really do offer some stunning scenery. How much longer those dunes can survive nature’s own wicked slice at the second hole remains to be seen. Go make some memories in Montrose.
CLUBS DO TRAVEL, Words by Kenny Pallas. Photography by Graeme McCubbin. Artwork by Tight Lies Golf. DON’T THEY?
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Warning: Reading this story may cause feelings of extreme envy. Read on at your own risk… It was memories of driving the famed North Coast 500 route of Scotland in 2019 that ultimately prompted Sam Cooper and his wife Harriet to do something bold. Self-employed and with Covid presenting an opportunity to take a break from work, they were keen to use the flexibility to recapture the freedom of the Highlands. So as the world went into lockdown, Sam decided he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity; he suggested another trip. This one would be a little longer though – a golfing adventure of epic proportions. The plan was to buy a van, convert it into something they could live in, then drive to Scotland and play the best courses the country has to offer. The plan soon became a reality, we met up with Sam at West Kilbride to find out all about this incredible story. Have you ever felt the urge to pack everything in and just play golf instead? Whilst the last couple of years have given many of us time and space to consider our living situations, there was one frustrated golfer who did decide that a golfing life was for him. He put the day job on hold and moved into a self-built camper van to take the pandemic by the horns. When we heard that this links-loving golf addict would be in West Kilbride we made sure we met with him to hear his story.
Despite not playing golf herself, Harriet didn’t take too much convincing. They packed the bare minimum into the van and with cocker spaniels Watson and Winnie in tow, set off on what would become a life-changing trip for them both. Sam is a true scholar of the game. His passion and knowledge of golf course architecture one of the main drivers to see each and every links of Great Britain first hand. So when lockdown laws permitted, the first destination was back to the wilds of Scotland. Dunaverty – a Links Diary favourite –their first stop on a clockwise itinerary along the West Coast. This leg of the journey would last three months and take in 75 courses. From September 2020 until that Christmas, they made their way right around the Scottish mainland, ending up in East Lothian. The ever-changing status of the pandemic forced them to head back home to Hoylake for another lockdown. Begins
The Trip
Sam106 is one of those golf fans you could talk to for hours. Just get him started on golf course design and you will experience someone in their element. He is a big fan of strategic golf, especially those ideas that prevailed around the 1920s when courses challenged the skilled and stimulated the novice players alike. “When golf was the most enjoyable for the greatest number of people”, he says. With this in mind, architects such as Tom Simpson and Harry Colt were some of the greatest exponents of this philosophy. Simpson as perhaps the truest embodiment of it, and Colt the most prolific. In terms of prolificity, few architects can claim as many designs as Sam’s distant relative - five-time Champion Golfer of the Year James Braid. While he’s quick to point out he didn’t inherit the golfing prowess, the passion for architecture is alive and well. Straddling the Victorian and Golden Age generations of architects, Braid the architect was just as successful as Braid the golfer. A True Fan of Golf Architecture Meanwhile in Hoylake, lockdown restrictions lifting in Spring 2021 meant the Coopers’ were back on the road and ‘all in’ on their nomadic lifestyle. Selling the home they’d built themselves, there was no turning back. This chapter took place along England’s coastline. They managed over 100 courses in 2021, some of England’s grandest and best known, and many you’ll likely never have heard of. From there, it was a long trip to and through Scotland to the Outer Hebrides. Sam says the highlight of the 2020 leg was taking the clubs onto a ferry and sailing off on an adventure. Tobermory, Iona, Shiskine – there’s no shortage of golf on the rocks off Scotland’s rugged coast. After the Outer Hebrides, on through Orkney and to Shetland. I’m sure, like me, you might be feeling a sense of envy at this all-encompassing links tour – but Sam assured me leaking roofs, overnight ferries through pitching seas and blisters on top of blisters balance out in the end.
Don’t Call it a Comeback Shiskine Golf Club
In terms of prolificity, few architects can claim as many designs as Sam’s distant relative - five-time Champion Golfer of the Year James Braid. While he’s quick to point out he didn’t inherit the golfing prowess, the passion for architecture is alive and well.
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“Dornoch, Muirfied, The Old Course – they don’t need to be 8,000 yards and narrow to be a challenge. Get them firm and running and suddenly the world’s best players have to think about it in a way they rarely do on the PGA Tour”. And what about the course that surprised him most? His answer came quickly – Shiskine. This dramatic gem on the Isle of Arran has a cult following and was one that Cooper enjoyed enormously. But what he liked most was the restraint they demonstrated at twelve hole Shiskine. Twelve great holes. Nothing more, nothing less. The club could have bought land and been made up to the arbitrary eighteen that we so well know, but, he argues, they would have had six holes of lesser quality. With clear disappointment in his voice (and without being drawn any specific names) it was clear that he wished more courses had followed Shiskine’s example.
Having played so many great courses in such a short period, perhaps more than most of us will manage in a lifetime, it was interesting to discuss the links that surprised and delighted him the most.
His favourite? Royal Dornoch. “A course that tests a golfer’s artistry and ability to improvise. For me, it’s the one that asks the most insightful questions of the golfer throughout their round.” It’s worth mentioning that Sam grew up at Royal Liverpool – or ‘Hoylake’, as it’s best known. When Tiger Woods won his third Open Championship there, his shot-making clinic on baked firm turf left a lasting impression. Talking about the importance of links golf to future-proof the game, Sam points out how often we’re told we’ve lost the ability to defend courses from the prodigious distance the modern pros hit the ball. “Not on a firm links”, he opines. “Get the turf clegging (a measure of firmness) as high as possible and all of a sudden the strategies that made golf so engaging 100 years ago are relevant again”.
The Experience
His favourite? Royal Dornoch. “A course that tests a golfer’s artistry and ability to improvise. For me, it’s the one that asks the most insightful questions of the golfer throughout their round.”
Royal Dornoch
Links land is precious and often there is only space for nine or so holes. Take the original Open Rota –a nine, twelve and eighteen hole course. Our golfing forebears were more tolerant of variety than we are…
Having spoken to Sam about his trip and having heard his passion for golf course design, it is fitting that this journey has opened the door to a new chapter in his life. With clear pride, he tells us how he has recently joined the global golf architecture partnership of Clayton, DeVries and Pont. There is no doubt that the experience of playing these hundreds of courses will give him an edge as he starts his career in golf course architecture. He has played world-class links courses and honesty box gems alike. As he says, there’s no substitute for seeing them in the flesh. Not just studying links golf but living it. “It’s one thing to read about North Berwick in a book, it’s quite another to play the pitch shot over the wall.”
His is an education in links golf that he has well and truly lived. That experience coupled with his scholarly knowledge of golf course architecture makes for a strong combination. One that will undoubtedly serve him well as he continues in the family business. A Truly Life-Changing Journey “It’s one thing to read about North Berwick in a book, it’s quite another to play the pitch shot over the wall.”
Who is Robbie Williams?
He found love, had children, lost the bad habits, and most importantly… found his true self. It’s certainly been a journey for the British cultural icon, whose most requested song is still Angels – his first solo single, after his breakaway from Take That (for the first time). He’s treated us to some iconic tunes – Rudebox, Rock DJ, Mr. Bojangles (who’d have thought he could pull off a swing album), just to name a few; along with some even greater moments – selling out 4 days of Knebworth, founding Soccer Aid and now collaborating with J Lindeberg for the 150th Open.
HE’S CERTAINLY NOT THE MAN HE USED TO BE BY
Robbie is now a man who knows himself, has defined his style and doesn’t deviate away from his attitude (no matter the audience). He brings that unmistakable style to this collection, a refreshing injection of rebellion for a game with such heritage and a reflection of where the sport should be heading. Fewer rules, fewer barriers and even more fun. Hats off to you Mr. Williams, you’ve surpassed our expectations again…!
THE ROBBIE COLLECTIONWILLIAMS
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