A Little Slice of Fife – Part 4

On the Old Course

By Marshall Carder

As the sun rose the next morning, we were all up already. There was very little banter, for we were all a little tired and perhaps a bit nervous about what we were about to undertake. So, with all of our hopes and dreams hanging in the balance, we emerged from our beachfront home and started the walk toward the course.

Wells and me walking
to play the Old Course

    Well, I should say, Wells and I walked. Always one to take good care of himself, Jared hopped in the car with Brooks and Bert, who came from their rental unit in Krail. Before leaving California, Brooks had entertained the prospect of his and Bert’s staying with us but had quickly put that notion behind him and invited the “adults” Jim and Ron. Their rental in Crail was a comfortable distance from our mayhem. So, Brooks and Bert, and Jared along with them in their car, made the short ride to the course in warmth and comfort not to be found on the fairway. Because I was walking, I was at least sure to have my trousers on when I arrived at the first tee.

Our Tuesday Foursome at the Old Course:
L-R Wells, Brooksie, me, Bert

    When we assembled at the first tee, Bert was ready with his video camera to record the historic moment. I’m not certain how much my mind was focused on the filming or the questions Bert was asking, but I sure am glad now that we have that footage, which has been watched over and over. If we didn’t have the tape, the whole think might just seem like a dream. Thanks, Bert!

If you know about 1st-tee pressure, it is nothing compared with standing in front of the clubhouse of the R&A and putting your peg in the ground.

The Most Famous 1st Hole in Golf

    Although it is a very wide fairway, out-of-bounds lurks just to the right and the Swilkin Burn meanders across the hole. Starting with Brooks, everyone in our foursome amazingly hit a great shot off the 1st tee. Not sure how that worked out, but it did. JG, Wells, and I actually all parred the first hole. Brooksie made a bogie. Nobody in the burn, no lost balls. As we walked off of the first tee, Brooksie’s caddy, Paddy, who was helping all of us, let us know that we were really going to have to keep our voices down. Our excitement was clearly apparent, and on this golf course you could be literally 20 yards away from another group playing a different hole, or even a different course. So tightly packed in are the Old, New, and Jubilee courses, that there simply is no room for conversation without disturbing others. There is also no beer cart. It is about the golf and only about the golf. The rest must await the 19th hole.
    For Jared, it was as if he were on his home course for the front nine. For the first couple of holes he just sort of held it together, as he does, but then he caught fire and birdied 7, 8, and 9 all in a row to show Old Tom’s ghost that he had come to play. A double at 10 slowed him down a bit and then we arrived at 11, a par three affectionately known as the shortest par 5 in golf. It is also home to Bobby Jones’ bunker, where Jones, in the 1921 Open Championship, famously failed to extract himself and then walked off the course after tearing up his card.
    Again JG hit a boring long iron into the wind and managed to reach the green. Two putts later, a par on the card, easy hole. I ended up in Bobby Jones’ bunker and, thanks to the modern lob wedge, I managed to extract myself in only one shot. Three putts later, I carded that 5 that Paddy had predicted. Wells’ tee shot had ended up just to the left of the cavernous bunker, and his second shot went into it. Then the fun began. A couple of shots into the face of the bunker and then he turned around to pitch out sideways. Only this time, he takes a mighty cut at the ball and catches it thin. The ball sailed out of the bunker directly into the river Tay, which runs adjacent to the hole. A drop, another chip, and a couple of putts, and it was a big number. At that point Paddy calls Christian over and invites him to look out at the river. Christian is looking out and can’t tell what he is supposed to be looking for when the caddie joked, “There, that is your ball. You see it?” We all had to laugh. There was a reason this was considered one of the toughest holes on the course, and we had all just seen why.

The wind was picking up considerably as we worked our way around the back nine. Paddy was working his tail off to keep ahead of Brooksie and get him around the course in a timely manner. You see, there is no slow play at St. Andrews. It’s about the golf and the golf only. We scarcely managed to even talk to each other during the round, save for some brief words on the tee, an occasional “good shot” and a “well holed” on the green. Most rounds are completed in under 4 hours despite the wind, the rain, and the gorse.
    When the wind blows that hard, you just keep your focus on the game and nothing else, which is difficult. I managed to get my game in order on the back nine and, despite that double on 11, things were actually going pretty well. I parred 15. We were playing 16 into a vicious cross wind, and our minds and our eyes were all squarely on 17, the Road Hole. Few other holes had managed to provide such a wealth of memories, from brilliant shots off the famed greenside stone wall to the heartache of shattered dreams in the Road Hole bunker.

The Road Hole

    If you are not familiar, the Road Hole has a slight dogleg right that requires a player to hit a blind tee shot over a protruding wall of the Old Course Hotel. In fact, they tell you that the perfect shot is a slight fade that goes over the H in Hotel. Somehow, both Jared and I hit absolute gems, flew the hotel, and found the safety of the left rough. Just in case your shot is not hit well enough to clear the immense obstacle, the windows on that side of the Hotel are all bulletproof and have fended off their fair share of errant tee balls. Wells hit about the best tee shot possible off of the forward tees and actually held the fairway. Brooks was doing his best to get it to the house and had a less than stellar drive, but it was not in the hotel, that was the good news. Jared was first to hit and came up just short of the green, which was the safe shot. Short meant it was not in the infamous Road Hole bunker. Both Wells and I ended up side by side, just short of the menacing hazard. Now Paddie’s advice was simple. You must putt around the bunker onto the green, he told us. The lie is too tight, the ground is too firm, and there is too much of a chance to either dump it in the bunker or slide off the back onto the dreadful road behind the green.
    But putting around the bunker would also mean virtually no chance to par the famed monster. So, wedge in hand, against the advice of Paddy, I clipped it just perfectly off the turf, cleared the bunker and landed it with enough spin to stop about five feet beyond the cup. When the curling, downhill putt dropped for a 4, I was elated. What would the pros pay for that on Sunday next year when the Open Championship is held at venerable St. Andrews? Wells was not so lucky with his chip and ended up with the worst fate of all, stymied in the Road Hole bunker. A couple of mighty lashes, a pitch backward out of the bunker and several putts resulted in a much bigger number than he had hoped for but made for great entertainment for the rest of us. Jared couldn’t manage the up-and-in and neither could Brooksie, so I walked off of 17 with the satisfaction of having been the only one to manage a par. And like I said before, you can forget your bad shots and bad holes, but the ones you manage to conquer live forever.

The wind was still whipping across the course when we made our way to the final tee. I pushed a drive toward the row of buildings just to the right of the 18th fairway but the strength and direction of the wind saved me. My ball ended up just a couple of yards inside the out-of-bounds fence with about 50 yards left to the hole. Now, this is really a tough shot for any golfer, but it is one of my particular weaknesses. My tendency is to catch it a bit thin and send it sailing over the green in line-drive fashion. If you add to that the fact that the railing behind the 18th green was rimmed with spectators who stood to catch the worst of my potential line drive, the pressure was a bit much.
    The result was a big fat chunk up to the front of the green followed by three very nervous putts for a bogie 5. Not the score I had hoped for but much better than it could have been. It was the same for all of us. The 18th hold proved nerve wracking, which made Brooksie’s par the day before even more special. He had managed to two putts from the famous Valley of Sin in front of the green, where Seve Ballesteros so famously won the Open Championship. And Bert had caught it on tape.

Copyright © 2014, 2020 by Marshall Carder Marshall Carder lives in Cardiff by the Sea, California. He is a father, a husband, and writes occasionally about things that inspire him. This story appeared originally on WordPress, posted on July 24, 2014.