My day at The Open Championship
Do you think I’m going to make life easy for those of you who have been waiting to read about my experience at The Royal and Ancient Golf Club at St. Andrews (R & A) and day one of The Open Championship? Think again. Even in my writing at Testudo Times and Terp Talk, I’m somewhat notorious for burying the lead – particularly in feature stories.
So, I’ll start with breakfast when I made acquaintance with Dan and Jeanne some friends of my sister Leslie and brother-in-law John. They had planned a trip to Ireland and decided to come over a day or two early so they could take in the Open. We’d been in touch by email leading up to our mutual trips but had never met.
They came to my hotel where we shared some breakfast and Dan, prepared for my punning reputation by Leslie came with a small printed list of “country puns.” We had a cold breakfast and shared a taxi to Waverly Station to catch the Golf Link train. Because only one two lane road leads to and from the R & A and the traffic can become quite intimidating, this combination of rail and bus with return (round trip for the Yanks) for 24.50 pounds (about $41.00) is generally considered the best method of transport.
We found a booth style seat (four seats around a center table) and were soon joined by a chap from the States who’d been out on Wednesday for the practice round. Based on his description, I’d recommend including practice day as the atmosphere sounds significantly more relaxed than on Championship days. The patter was entertaining and made the hour plus ride pass quite quickly.
Getting off the train, a fellow who’d attended Maryland saw my hat (the red and black one) and we started chatting about the Terps as we shuffled from the train to the bus which would take us from the station at Leuchars to the course. We got our first view of the distant course and I managed this sloppy shot through the bus window:
The small bumps in the distance are grandstands. You can’t see the goosebumps on my arms. A few minutes later, the bus pulls into the drop-off point and off we go. As we’re approaching security, I remember that St. Andrews prohibits photos on Championship days and I had toted my camera in the reflex action of a tourist who thinks he should never be without his camera regardless of his lack of photographic skills. At the time I thought, “I might have to keep my camera in my pocket but this is a picture they can’t prevent.”
However, the security guard said the camera wouldn’t be confiscated if I kept it hidden. I discovered later that this statement is not quite true.
As I was passing through security, I heard a familiar voice call out behind me. It was none other than Bob Johnson, PA announcer extraordinaire and Tuesday lunch companion. Bob was with a chap named Tony and I (politely or rudely depending on your point of view) took my leave from Jeanne and Dan and set off for a day’s adventure with Bob and Tony hoping, but not really expecting that I’d cross paths with Dan and Jeanne again sometime during the day.
The entrance Golf Link riders use leaves you in the center of the Spectator Village and the first thing I did was purchase a program for 10 pounds. However, this is the Open Championship so your purchase is so much more than a mere program and list of tee times. It also includes a backpack, a bottle of water and, whether delivered with deliberate irony or not, a small tube of sunscreen! Really.
Passing from the Spectator Village, our first look at the Old Course came as we entered just above the 16th green and 17th tee. Bob, Tony and I turned left and immediately headed for the crossing to take us to the grandstand overlooking the fourth green.This may sound odd, but the sod at St. Andrews (correctly pronounced SIN-TAndrews) has a different feel from other courses I’ve walked. It feels softer, fuller, spongier.
As we waited to cross the course and then walked along the red path toward our target grandstand, it fascinated me to listen to the silence and observe the stillness that accompanied the marshal’s display of the “Quiet Please” paddle. The paddle goes up and stillness descends. I perceived neither movement nor audible whispers within the range of my senses.
Arriving at the fourth hole, we had reached one of the Old Course’s famous double greens. Since I always like to leave my readers feeling a bit smarter and a bit more stupid, I’ll tell you that adding the hole numbers for shared greens always totals 18. We were on the fourth green grandstand. You can do the math to calculate the shared hole. Go ahead. You’ll feel smarter. The fifth and 15th tees are also visible from this point.
Our timing was, as the saying goes, fortuitous. Although we’d just missed the threesome that included Lee Westwood and Sergio Garcia, we were only one away from Game 17 – Jordan Spieth, Hideki Matsuyama and Dustin Johnson. The next group included 1999 Open Champion Paul Lawrie and the third approaching group consisted of Jason Day, Louis Oosthuizen and Tiger Woods.
Two of the players we saw in the first group missed makeable 15 foot putts – one for birdie and one for par – setting the tone for the day. Of the five games we watched come across the fourth green, we saw only one birdie. That came from the putter of Jason Day and was more a result of his second shot that left him inside eight feet rather than from a roar inducing putt.
One last note: The double greens create an atypical, rather fractured rhythm of play. A player on one green will wait until a player on the opposite green has putted. By observation, it seemed that the honor was given to the player on the incoming green. Thus, the player putting on four will wait until his counterpart on 14 has taken his putt.
The fifth hole is one of two par fives on the Old Course so we saw the tee shots from each of the threesomes we watched before making our way around the hook of the course to watch some of the play on the two par threes – the eighth and eleventh and to try to find one of the rather widely spaced bathrooms.
Now, you’ll have to permit me my grumpy old man rant. The facilities and services were sadly disappointing. On the seaside of the course there were bathroom facilities at holes two and ten and that’s a long walk. The food services weren’t much better. Both types of facility created long queues and, as Tony said, “I came to watch golf not stand in a queue.” And, when one of the food service areas ran out of hot water so tea and coffee were unavailable, well, that aspect of the day became even more frustrating. Fortunately, Tony had come prepared with toffee and other candy as well as bottles of water that he shared generously and that provided enough sustenance to allow us to make only one meal stop.
Collectively, the three of us thought the galleries’ comfort would have been better served by smaller but more numerous stations posted around the course. The other uncomfortable aspect of the day was one over which even the hallowed R & A had no control – the wind off the North Sea.
If lesson number on was to attend the practice round, lesson number two was: You can’t over dress for St. Andrews. And don’t let morning sunshine fool you into thinking you can. Yes, there were a few moments when the sun shone and the wind calmed enough to tease up with the promise of comfort. But they were brief and occasional. Generally, with the temperature hovering in the mid to high teens (55-62 for you States siders) and a seemingly relentless wind that gashes through to your bones, you are glad for the layers you’re wearing and still you can find parts of the day chill inducing.
Of course, the players face the same conditions relative to comfort and they have to manage their play through it. Thursday, the wind was gentler early and much of the front nine played downwind or had a helpful cross wind. This was the time for most players to post scores. Once they made the turn, and even more so as morning turned to afternoon, the challenge of a course that looks so wide open and superficially simple becomes readily apparent.
Wind, and sometimes rain aren’t the only defenses the Old Course tosses at the competitors. There are also the famous (or infamous) pot bunkers – 112 of them. These are quite different from the sand traps on a typical American course. The front of these bunkers is a wall of layered sod where each layer is set an inch or two back from the one beneath it. On our way toward the eighth hole, Bob, Tony and I walked along one of the other courses on the property and got up close and personal with a few of them. Here’s one.
From time to time in other tournaments, you may see players hook a drive onto a fairway adjacent to the one they are playing and generally, that’s not something they want to do. However, one of the other quirks of the Old Course is that sometimes, you need to deliberately play to a different fairway. The famous Road Hole at 17 is a perfect example. I don’t know whether players would try to clear the sheds of the hotel under different wind conditions, but on this Thursday, nearly everyone hit their drive onto the fairway for the second hole.
and which seems to be one of the more “birdie-able” on the course presents a different challenge. The safer play is to hit onto the fairway for the first hole but this makes for a delicate short iron or chip. The more direct route, with the right lie presents an easier second shot onto the green but dares you to play from the deeply undulating swale known as “The Valley of Sin.”
We finished our day in the grandstand high above the eighteenth green. The lower tier is reserved seating. It was there that we finally saw some impressive putting and saw four or five birdies. Twitter followers might recognize this picture:
Upon arriving back at Waverly Station, Tony’s wife was waiting for him and Bob and Tony offered me a ride back into the Old City. I had them drop me at Grassmarket where, because it was late and I was tired, I ended up picking up a couple of slices of pizza for dinner. I was most grateful for the lift up the hill from the station which must be among the steepest traversable spots in Edinburgh.
Oh, and the truth I learned about photography (but not until late in the day when we stood behind the tee box at 13 in a spot as close to the players as we found on the course) is that if you discreetly take pictures at times when it’s clear no one is playing, the marshals are quite lenient. So here’s where you can see the other dozen or so of the pictures I shot.
And that’s my day at St. Andrews. I hope you enjoyed reading about it. Next up, my last day in Scotland and arrival in Copenhagen. Stay tuned.
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