Celebration
By Marshall Carder
We had finished our jaunt around the world’s most famous course and now it was time for reflection. We tipped and thanked Paddy, our caddie, and made our way up to the pub on the corner for some libations and grub. Brooks ordered the haggis and the rest of us went for the fish and chips. Sitting on the bench against the wall, Brooksie was practically lying on his right side but clearly intending to be seated. I asked him if he wanted to sit up and he replied that he had found a comfortable position that was not hurting so he wasn’t moving. But even in that state, the pure sense of joy was radiating from him. Over and over he kept making comments about how great it was.
Seeing my father in that state, the overwhelming feeling passed over me that we had made this pilgrimage just in time. He was literally having trouble just sitting up, and yet was filled with joy for the memories we had created that day. We enjoyed our whiskeys and ales and our fish and chips, and Brooksie raved about the haggis. It was an amazing day on an amazing course with just the right people. Golf had brought us here and Golf had filled our hearts and souls with pure satisfaction. It is almost impossible to describe our sense of accomplishment.
We ended our day with a nice walk back to the house and a very hearty home-cooked meal. Tomorrow would be another day in our quest, and Jubilee was on the schedule. She was built in 1897 for Queen Victoria’s Jubilee and worked her way through the dunes closest to the beach. Bert had secured us a t-time for 12:30, which gave us time to sleep in and enjoy the morning with family sight-seeing. Bert intended to play with us today, and one of the funny things about this was that in the past he and Wells never saw eye-to-eye on anything. But here we were, at the Home of Golf and everyone was friends. It was a harbinger for what was to come.
By the time we teed off at Jubilee, there was so much wind it was literally blowing us around like paper dolls. Despite the lack of rain, the howling wind gave us the satisfaction that we were in Scotland, because there really aren’t any other places in the world where people willingly challenge this type of breeze just for the fun of it. Any ball that was hit more than a few meters above the turf was affected severely. But this is what we came for, so off we went.
The bogies were out there and coming fast for everyone, and the bigger numbers – those dreadful “others,” which are beyond a double – were coming as well. Even the little general couldn’t escape the double-bogie train.
For me it was a huge triumph to score nothing more than a bogie all the way through the 17th hole, only to throw it all away and card a 10 on the last. In Scotland, neither the wind nor the golf lays down for you, not even on the last hole. There is simply no way to defeat it, you must play with it, as the great Tom Watson always said. Whatever it gives you is what you must take. If that means you are playing your 250-yard club on a 180-yard hole, so be it. If that means putting from 50 yards off the green, as we were advised, that is what you do. So, hunkered down against the gale-force winds, we made our way around the undulating links. It was a truly spectacular day of harsh breeze combined with majestic views and blue skies scattered with puffy white clouds. This day, there were no birdies. This was a day of survival.
Now, with the wind blowing us off of our feet, imagine our surprise and admiration when we spotted a one-legged golfer out on the links. It was truly a sight to behold. We were literally struggling to manage each shot, and here we find this man, against all odds, doing what he loves, despite a severe obstacle. Later, as we sat in the clubhouse and enjoyed our post-round celebration, I spotted this very special golfer and made certain to give him my best support and energy. It was a real inspiration to see someone so devoted to pursuing a normal life, despite the setbacks he had experienced. But more than that, he was a Golfer and thus a fellow Amador of this great game, a kindred spirit with whom we shared a deep understanding of the basic need to be out on the links. I approached him and told him how much I admired his courage and determination, it was truly a tribute to the amazing things that the game brings out of people. You could tell from his aura and glow that he was deeply satisfied and proud of having risen to the tremendous challenge. For all of us, it was a great moment of reflection and camaraderie.
To add delight to the already delightful, a scene of brotherly love was also unfolding before us between the most unlikely pair, Bert and Wells. The years and years of badgering by Christian and lecturing by Bert had melted away to reveal two souls deeply connected by the game and by the moment. It surprised everyone, because we were half expecting some sparks to fly along the way. They had played the forward tees together and playfully heckled each other all day without so much as a hint of an argument or a fight. And sometimes that is not easy for anyone golfing with Wells; even his closest friends.
At one point after the round, I looked across the table and there they were, beers in hand, lost in a friendly conversation that probably should have happened 20 years earlier but was only made possible by the passage of time and the shared love of golf and Brooksie. Over the years Brooksie had half-jokingly talked of adopting Wells, and we always invited him for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and now it was looking as though he had finally let down his ego, put aside his fears, and truly joined the family. As we finished our drinks, we spoke of the great test on the way tomorrow…the hallowed ground that is Carnoustie Golf Links, known to Americans as Car-Nasty and considered one of the most difficult golf courses in the world.
By Marshall Carder
We had finished our jaunt around the world’s most famous course and now it was time for reflection. We tipped and thanked Paddy, our caddie, and made our way up to the pub on the corner for some libations and grub. Brooks ordered the haggis and the rest of us went for the fish and chips. Sitting on the bench against the wall, Brooksie was practically lying on his right side but clearly intending to be seated. I asked him if he wanted to sit up and he replied that he had found a comfortable position that was not hurting so he wasn’t moving. But even in that state, the pure sense of joy was radiating from him. Over and over he kept making comments about how great it was.
Seeing my father in that state, the overwhelming feeling passed over me that we had made this pilgrimage just in time. He was literally having trouble just sitting up, and yet was filled with joy for the memories we had created that day. We enjoyed our whiskeys and ales and our fish and chips, and Brooksie raved about the haggis. It was an amazing day on an amazing course with just the right people. Golf had brought us here and Golf had filled our hearts and souls with pure satisfaction. It is almost impossible to describe our sense of accomplishment.
We ended our day with a nice walk back to the house and a very hearty home-cooked meal. Tomorrow would be another day in our quest, and Jubilee was on the schedule. She was built in 1897 for Queen Victoria’s Jubilee and worked her way through the dunes closest to the beach. Bert had secured us a t-time for 12:30, which gave us time to sleep in and enjoy the morning with family sight-seeing. Bert intended to play with us today, and one of the funny things about this was that in the past he and Wells never saw eye-to-eye on anything. But here we were, at the Home of Golf and everyone was friends. It was a harbinger for what was to come.
By the time we teed off at Jubilee, there was so much wind it was literally blowing us around like paper dolls. Despite the lack of rain, the howling wind gave us the satisfaction that we were in Scotland, because there really aren’t any other places in the world where people willingly challenge this type of breeze just for the fun of it. Any ball that was hit more than a few meters above the turf was affected severely. But this is what we came for, so off we went.
The bogies were out there and coming fast for everyone, and the bigger numbers – those dreadful “others,” which are beyond a double – were coming as well. Even the little general couldn’t escape the double-bogie train.
For me it was a huge triumph to score nothing more than a bogie all the way through the 17th hole, only to throw it all away and card a 10 on the last. In Scotland, neither the wind nor the golf lays down for you, not even on the last hole. There is simply no way to defeat it, you must play with it, as the great Tom Watson always said. Whatever it gives you is what you must take. If that means you are playing your 250-yard club on a 180-yard hole, so be it. If that means putting from 50 yards off the green, as we were advised, that is what you do. So, hunkered down against the gale-force winds, we made our way around the undulating links. It was a truly spectacular day of harsh breeze combined with majestic views and blue skies scattered with puffy white clouds. This day, there were no birdies. This was a day of survival.
Now, with the wind blowing us off of our feet, imagine our surprise and admiration when we spotted a one-legged golfer out on the links. It was truly a sight to behold. We were literally struggling to manage each shot, and here we find this man, against all odds, doing what he loves, despite a severe obstacle. Later, as we sat in the clubhouse and enjoyed our post-round celebration, I spotted this very special golfer and made certain to give him my best support and energy. It was a real inspiration to see someone so devoted to pursuing a normal life, despite the setbacks he had experienced. But more than that, he was a Golfer and thus a fellow Amador of this great game, a kindred spirit with whom we shared a deep understanding of the basic need to be out on the links. I approached him and told him how much I admired his courage and determination, it was truly a tribute to the amazing things that the game brings out of people. You could tell from his aura and glow that he was deeply satisfied and proud of having risen to the tremendous challenge. For all of us, it was a great moment of reflection and camaraderie.
To add delight to the already delightful, a scene of brotherly love was also unfolding before us between the most unlikely pair, Bert and Wells. The years and years of badgering by Christian and lecturing by Bert had melted away to reveal two souls deeply connected by the game and by the moment. It surprised everyone, because we were half expecting some sparks to fly along the way. They had played the forward tees together and playfully heckled each other all day without so much as a hint of an argument or a fight. And sometimes that is not easy for anyone golfing with Wells; even his closest friends.
At one point after the round, I looked across the table and there they were, beers in hand, lost in a friendly conversation that probably should have happened 20 years earlier but was only made possible by the passage of time and the shared love of golf and Brooksie. Over the years Brooksie had half-jokingly talked of adopting Wells, and we always invited him for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and now it was looking as though he had finally let down his ego, put aside his fears, and truly joined the family. As we finished our drinks, we spoke of the great test on the way tomorrow…the hallowed ground that is Carnoustie Golf Links, known to Americans as Car-Nasty and considered one of the most difficult golf courses in the world.
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. |
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