It is lovely to know on the first tee that you are going to have a pleasant and fun round with your group. This happened yesterday as I was introduced to father and son Sean and Brian, and their friend John. Also they were great golfers which is always a massive plus.
Sean had a bit of a bad back though and I said there was only one thing for that and it was whisky. Indeed that is why whisky was invented.I mean no sane person would play golf without the knowledge that there was a wee dram awaiting at the end of a sometimes purgatorial eighteen holes.
The guys had been in the Keys Bar the previous night and were most taken by the barmaid, who gave them a free tasting of four malts. They only wished they’d remembered what they were called, and indeed where the Keys Bar was, as they got in tow with a few caddies of the antique kind. It was seemingly a great night.
We got to the uphill 12th which is always a slog, and I was sure Sean asked if there was beer on the course, and I replied ‘I hope so’. However he looked decidedly perplexed at this for some reason. We had seen a pheasant though! On the par three tenth in fact. Sean thought it was a grouse but I said that was wishful thinking. Again he’d looked perplexed at this.
Anyway Sean’s golf got rather hot and he hit a wonderful shot into the par 3 thirteenth which was going straight for the hole and laid up only a few feet short. John hit a pretty good shot too but we couldn’t find it and he dared me to look in the hole, but alas nothing!
We get to the stunning seventeenth signature hole par 3 and it is a beautiful evening, with luminous light across St Andrews and the bay. I give the guys a line on the tree in the far distance and John and Brian hit lovely shots on to the half hidden green. Sean hits a rather sub-optimal shot though and we proceed to the green. Brian and John ahead can only see one ball and joke about the other being in the hole. And of course it is! And Brian screams in delight and jumps high in the air and even half deaf Kenny walking down the sixteenth hears him and looks across. There is much hugging and filial declarations of love and numerous high fives. Actually quite a touching scene to be honest.
It was almost surpassed down the eighteenth though. It is a long par 5 dog leg and plays in front of the clubhouse, which was packed as there had been a St Rule’s outing. All the guys hit excellent drives and were placed in a line across the fairway with good chances of hitting the long par 5 in two blows. John hit first, and a beauty, towards the pin two hundred odd yards away. Being a bit hyped up he shouted loudly ‘get in the hole’ and it seemingly landed on the green not far from the pin but went over the back. Then Brian hit an equally good shot which was going right for the hole! John with his twenty thirteen vision shouts ‘get in get in’ and the ball finishes up looking remarkably close to the hole. Then my man Sean hits an amazing shot towards the green and on target. I think what the heck and shout at the top of my very loud voice, which I think could be heard in Market Street, ‘get in!’ We all have a chuckle and walk down the eighteenth fairway in great spirits as several ladies venture across from the clubhouse looking, most curiously, towards the green.
And of course we topped the whole round off in great Scottish and golfing tradition.