The Old Course
Yer a Long Time Deid
“Seize the day and live life to the fullest, you never know what might happen” ~ Old Scottish Proverb.
The Friday sun peaked through my 3rd floor flat window at 7 Murray Park calling me to explore St. Andrews Town Centre and the Old Course on our next to last morning before me and my best friends headed back to the States.
My St. Andrews “walkabout” of exploration and photography mixed in with a week of golf was high on my Scotland (non-golf) activities list.
I wandered about the University, past the centuries old remains of the St. Andrews Cathedral and Castle. I felt the ghostly presence of Old Tom Morris gently nudging at my shoulder much like the North Sea early morning stiff breezes nipping at my exposed ears.
“Come play the Old Course, my American friend,” Tom whispered into the ocean spray on West Sands Beach made famous in the 1981 movie, Chariots of Fire.
Following in the tradition of my golfing heroes who flew across the pond in the 70s, I too was looking forward to playing golf in the misting rain, wind and gorse where the grand game was born.
Our Last Round: The Old Course.
The hallowed grounds where the game of golf was invented over 600 years ago. I would be playing this very course later today with my very best friends.
As I walked towards #18, I was careful not to walk on the actual fairway nor cross the famous Swilcan Bridge as I wanted to feel that unique experience playing my #2 Top Flite golf ball here hours later in the warm Friday afternoon sun for the first time.
Not unlike how professional hockey players will not touch the Conference Finals Championship trophy before beginning the Stanley Cup Finals series. I also did not want to disrespect the Ancient Golf Gods by neglecting proper St. Andrews etiquette, in so much as having my dessert before finishing my meal proper.
I was taking no chances…..No bad golfing juju allowed.
I watched as a nameless greenskeeper groomed the #18 green adjacent to the Valley of Sin.
Undulating mounds of perfected grass, sand and soil providing near certain death to thousands of errand golf balls since forever.
Grey Plovers, Common Gulls, and Guillemots crying out in the St. Andrews morning temporarily breaking the Sunday church like silence at dawn.
A mere twenty yards to my right, the starter called the 6:18 am foursome to the #1 tee box. I wondered what was going through their minds. I wondered what would soon be going through my mind later today.
A few early morning tourists lined the green and white wooden checkered fence taking photographs of the iconic Old Course to show the folks back home.
I imagined Bobby Jones, Walter Hagen, Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer, Tiger and Rory being given similar instructions on Friday’s pin placement, wind conditions and distance markers.
I suddenly felt my heart rate elevate.
With the purest sound known to man, player #1 struck his tiny white ball sending it nearly 250 yards towards the pin, just left of center fairway rolling to the softest stop.
I swore I could hear him exhale.
For the next 12 hours this timeless ritual at #1 would continue until dusk arrived.
At precisely 12:30 pm. I walked on to #1 (Burn Hole).
On the #1 tee box, from the United States, Scott Kern. Caddie: Scottie.
For 16 holes, I was in awe of the history, beauty, challenge and charm of this iconic tract of land, once used for rabbit farming.
Just over four hours, player and caddie shared stories of Houston, past travels, American baseball, 80’s rock and roll music, cycling and the occasional golf tale both here and back home.
I told him about a golf book entitled - A Course Called Scotland I had recommended my friends read pre-trip. He recommended I read a book entitled - The Match.
Approaching a high double-digit scorecard, we arrived at #17. The Road Hole.
This hole is named for the road/walking path that sits directly alongside the fairway (right side) next to the Old Course & Hotel. A wee further down the road sits the iconic Jigger Inn. We dined at the Jigger Inn after our 18 at the Jubilee Course on Thursday with Jim’s new best Scottish friend, our server named Ester.
Note: Don’t order a half-pint on Ester’s watch. Picture actress: Melissa McCarthy.
After watching Jim and Doc clear the blind hotel shot, Scottie announced: “Well Scott that won’t be your line. I want you playing this par 4 as a par 5. I want you left out towards the last bunker.”
I solidly struck the ball at the desired target.
Scottie: “Aye. We now know our right from our left. Okay, you see that guy in the light blue hoodie walking across #17? That’s your line.”
Scott: Flush! The ball approaching the nameless walker with a possible unknown death wish. The ball rolled up on him.
Scottie: “Brilliant! You’re making a late round charge.”
Suddenly the non-golfer person in the fairway turns and motions back to my me and caddie.
Scottie: “What a c**t. That wasn’t even close. Grab your 7 iron, man. This is your hole.”
Scott: Feeling the adrenaline, I skull my 3rd shot heading towards the hundred-year-old stone fence (wall) lying behind the green and the road. My ball bouncing off the wall like a stand-up double at Citizens Bank Park. Top-Flite #2 is now lying three in the middle of road (i.e. warning track).
Scottie: “Okay you’ve got Rory’s shot here back in 2022. Putter off the road. Don’t give up the hole. Nice and easy.”
Scott: Jim is now shooting video. Dribbler on the road. 2nd road shot rings the pin true. Two more putts for four putts and I card a 7. Epic 7. And trust me, I’ve had many!
With a smile on my face as big as these double greens of the Old Course, our foursome walks up to arguably THE most famous hole in all of Golf - #18 Hole (Tom Morris).
This finishing hole is named after the Grand Old Man of Golf.
Feel free to google Old Tom, or perhaps do as I did and watch the 2016 movie entitled – Tommy’s Honour with some obligatory ginger beer, shortbread cookies or perhaps a dram of whiskey, playing to whatever set of tees you choose.
Here in Scotland, many courses (as well as individual golf holes, bunkers and berms) have been given unique names with lineages often tracing back to actual documented players or historical circumstances as well as slightly fictitious stories passed down amongst locals for centuries.
Scottie: “Keep that three wood in ye bag.
Yer a Long Time Deid
“Seize the day and live life to the fullest, you never know what might happen” ~ Old Scottish Proverb.
The Friday sun peaked through my 3rd floor flat window at 7 Murray Park calling me to explore St. Andrews Town Centre and the Old Course on our next to last morning before me and my best friends headed back to the States.
My St. Andrews “walkabout” of exploration and photography mixed in with a week of golf was high on my Scotland (non-golf) activities list.
I wandered about the University, past the centuries old remains of the St. Andrews Cathedral and Castle. I felt the ghostly presence of Old Tom Morris gently nudging at my shoulder much like the North Sea early morning stiff breezes nipping at my exposed ears.
“Come play the Old Course, my American friend,” Tom whispered into the ocean spray on West Sands Beach made famous in the 1981 movie, Chariots of Fire.
Following in the tradition of my golfing heroes who flew across the pond in the 70s, I too was looking forward to playing golf in the misting rain, wind and gorse where the grand game was born.
Our Last Round: The Old Course.
The hallowed grounds where the game of golf was invented over 600 years ago. I would be playing this very course later today with my very best friends.
As I walked towards #18, I was careful not to walk on the actual fairway nor cross the famous Swilcan Bridge as I wanted to feel that unique experience playing my #2 Top Flite golf ball here hours later in the warm Friday afternoon sun for the first time.
Not unlike how professional hockey players will not touch the Conference Finals Championship trophy before beginning the Stanley Cup Finals series. I also did not want to disrespect the Ancient Golf Gods by neglecting proper St. Andrews etiquette, in so much as having my dessert before finishing my meal proper.
I was taking no chances…..No bad golfing juju allowed.
I watched as a nameless greenskeeper groomed the #18 green adjacent to the Valley of Sin.
Undulating mounds of perfected grass, sand and soil providing near certain death to thousands of errand golf balls since forever.
Grey Plovers, Common Gulls, and Guillemots crying out in the St. Andrews morning temporarily breaking the Sunday church like silence at dawn.
A mere twenty yards to my right, the starter called the 6:18 am foursome to the #1 tee box. I wondered what was going through their minds. I wondered what would soon be going through my mind later today.
A few early morning tourists lined the green and white wooden checkered fence taking photographs of the iconic Old Course to show the folks back home.
I imagined Bobby Jones, Walter Hagen, Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer, Tiger and Rory being given similar instructions on Friday’s pin placement, wind conditions and distance markers.
I suddenly felt my heart rate elevate.
With the purest sound known to man, player #1 struck his tiny white ball sending it nearly 250 yards towards the pin, just left of center fairway rolling to the softest stop.
I swore I could hear him exhale.
For the next 12 hours this timeless ritual at #1 would continue until dusk arrived.
At precisely 12:30 pm. I walked on to #1 (Burn Hole).
On the #1 tee box, from the United States, Scott Kern. Caddie: Scottie.
For 16 holes, I was in awe of the history, beauty, challenge and charm of this iconic tract of land, once used for rabbit farming.
Just over four hours, player and caddie shared stories of Houston, past travels, American baseball, 80’s rock and roll music, cycling and the occasional golf tale both here and back home.
I told him about a golf book entitled - A Course Called Scotland I had recommended my friends read pre-trip. He recommended I read a book entitled - The Match.
Approaching a high double-digit scorecard, we arrived at #17. The Road Hole.
This hole is named for the road/walking path that sits directly alongside the fairway (right side) next to the Old Course & Hotel. A wee further down the road sits the iconic Jigger Inn. We dined at the Jigger Inn after our 18 at the Jubilee Course on Thursday with Jim’s new best Scottish friend, our server named Ester.
Note: Don’t order a half-pint on Ester’s watch. Picture actress: Melissa McCarthy.
After watching Jim and Doc clear the blind hotel shot, Scottie announced: “Well Scott that won’t be your line. I want you playing this par 4 as a par 5. I want you left out towards the last bunker.”
I solidly struck the ball at the desired target.
Scottie: “Aye. We now know our right from our left. Okay, you see that guy in the light blue hoodie walking across #17? That’s your line.”
Scott: Flush! The ball approaching the nameless walker with a possible unknown death wish. The ball rolled up on him.
Scottie: “Brilliant! You’re making a late round charge.”
Suddenly the non-golfer person in the fairway turns and motions back to my me and caddie.
Scottie: “What a c**t. That wasn’t even close. Grab your 7 iron, man. This is your hole.”
Scott: Feeling the adrenaline, I skull my 3rd shot heading towards the hundred-year-old stone fence (wall) lying behind the green and the road. My ball bouncing off the wall like a stand-up double at Citizens Bank Park. Top-Flite #2 is now lying three in the middle of road (i.e. warning track).
Scottie: “Okay you’ve got Rory’s shot here back in 2022. Putter off the road. Don’t give up the hole. Nice and easy.”
Scott: Jim is now shooting video. Dribbler on the road. 2nd road shot rings the pin true. Two more putts for four putts and I card a 7. Epic 7. And trust me, I’ve had many!
With a smile on my face as big as these double greens of the Old Course, our foursome walks up to arguably THE most famous hole in all of Golf - #18 Hole (Tom Morris).
This finishing hole is named after the Grand Old Man of Golf.
Feel free to google Old Tom, or perhaps do as I did and watch the 2016 movie entitled – Tommy’s Honour with some obligatory ginger beer, shortbread cookies or perhaps a dram of whiskey, playing to whatever set of tees you choose.
Here in Scotland, many courses (as well as individual golf holes, bunkers and berms) have been given unique names with lineages often tracing back to actual documented players or historical circumstances as well as slightly fictitious stories passed down amongst locals for centuries.
Scottie: “Keep that three wood in ye bag.
© Scott Kern