Golfadelphia

6,352 yards, 133 slope from the Blues

“If you wait until you’re ready, it will never happen.” Wise words from my father, who spoke them several years ago not in the context of golf but trying to see grandkids on the horizon. Wise nevertheless and the advice transcends into most aspects of life, including golf. I only had generally vague plans to visit Scotland for golf, until a few months ago. It seemed like a massive undertaking to plan and with other obligations, I didn’t even have the time to figure out how I would make time for such a trip let alone plan it out. A trip to London last Summer helped get me closer to figure out substantial plans but still, a visit here had always been off in the distance. All of that changed rather suddenly when I ended up getting an opportunity to play the Old Course in Reverse. I had a few days to either confirm or turn down the invitation. It was a whirlwind from that point on, yet here I was. Fortune had smiled upon me, ready or not. It was certainly fortuitous, as the trip and rounds at the Old will reverberate and influence my golfing years from this point forward. Before I knew it, I was hitting hybrid off the tee and saw it bound with excitement firmly in the storied fairway. A shiver of emotion surged upon me walking off the opening tee.

I was anticipating more of a letdown than anything else, fully appreciating it would take time to understand the complexities of the course. That first round was in reverse and I found it tough to form strong opinions right away. I was being patient. My par putt at the Eighteenth circled the entire cup before spitting out, causing gasps and cries from those onlookers who caught it. I reflexively muttered, “that sums up the round perfectly.” Sitting at the Dunvegan afterwards, I tried to gather my thoughts while at the same time argued with my friend from Boston about whose golf scene is better, his or Philadelphia (this is obvious to anyone who really knows but my friend needed education). The terrain was much more interesting than I was expecting. I didn’t take it as a boring field or whatever it was Snead described it as. It was also tighter in spots than I was expecting, the bunkers, contours and gorse some times conspiring to destroy the spirits of the golfer if their ball came any where near. But what really captured my attention were the greens. They were magnificent. They were the soul of the course and are primarily what allowed the course to be taken on in reverse or any other angle for that matter. They were immense yet delightfully complex with shades of challenge throughout. That was what really seared into my memory as I sat there with my DoubleWood 12 year, it was those greens. I would see them once again the next day and I paused all thought about the course at that point, needing to direct my full attention to the silliness of my friend’s claims.

It feels trite declaring the Old as my favorite course but one cannot get away from the truth, trite be damned. My soul declares it and who am I to say otherwise. I woke up that morning, our sixth day of the trip, very much in a routine. 36 holes a day meant early mornings and golf into the late afternoon. More than routine, however, I was indifferent to score cards and much more interested in golfing. Walking the fairways and deciding on shots, then trying to pull them off. Studying greens and contours and seeing if I could get my ball to win them over. Bellowing driver down the throats of gorse and hoping to remain unscathed. Riding and fighting the wind as needs dictate. Whether I was successful in any of this became irrelevant. The pursuit was the thrill of the adventure. So it was when we arrived that morning at Leven. Our host and his friend in tow were Scottish through and through, their accents heavy and boisterous. They talked and laughed and hit their shots. They cared about those shots yet they were not important and they faced every fortune and indignity with the same matter of fact posture, this was another day on the course to enjoy. I followed suit and as I shanked the opening tee shot at the Old with the same hybrid I belted the day before, I shrugged and made sure I kept watching it roll. I’d have another chance to hit it and another after that. I walked off the First with a double and didn’t think much about it. I was at the Old Course for fuck’s sake, I was here to golf as those before me had done for over half a millennium. If anything, more strokes meant more golf.

It was this cultivated attitude over almost a week of doing nothing but golfing at the home of golf as well as the pristine day we had that shone the Old in remarkable light. Moreover, my caddie and I got along famously in an instant and we were golfing with the two lads we had played with for the Reverse and the Castle rounds. The forces of the universe were in tune ever so briefly to show off the Old. That’s the way I saw it at least. The holes and shots came and went as my caddie and I discussed their merits, the putts rolling in, or not. The bounces and rolls all so vivid now. My caddie chided me I owed him some birdies as a few putts teased about the hole before stopping and we laughed as others in our group struggled at the Eleventh, as my tee shot fell close to the pin. As mentioned in my Scotland review, “the back nine heads back into town and the sun was shining on us as the town grew closer and larger. A peace had fallen over the group. Tranquil golden rays amidst the emerald corridors and vivid pops of yellow gorse, birds in pleasant spots of song. It seemed to last forever as we took our turns hitting our balls this way and that. It was then I fell in love with Scotland, as with the Old.” It wasn’t until I was in the Tom Morris Bar afterwards, this time with a wee Oban, that I realized I came so close to my personal low round. Yet that’s not why the Old is my favorite. It’s because it can give us days like I had while I could show up the next and encounter an entirely different course with different tones and different shots and different golf altogether. And I would try to harken back to the day I had yet the Old would tell me, “perhaps another time.” And I would love it just the same despite all those differences.

Miles and miles of ink tells of the history and glory of the Old and my repeating of it would do it little justice. The game started here in some form around 1362. It was originally twenty-two holes and started in the hills behind the Royal and Ancient clubhouse. Coincidentally, I walked from our house to the course one sunset eve and took that path to reach the course. The coast rises up to cliffside dramatically quick in that area and it would have made quite a gallant stroll back down to the flats. The Old became eighteen holes in 1764 for the first Open. Double greens began to develop in the 1830’s while Allan Roberston cleared gorse and bush to uncover even more of the rumpled contours that lend so much character to the land in the 1850’s. Old Tom Morris returned to St. Andrews after the famous rift with Robertson in 1864. This included molding the Valley of Sin at the Eighteenth in 1878 and generally imparting wise yet spared semblance to its wild ruggedness. Otherwise, the course has been left to its devices save for lengthening over the last couple decades. Nature is the primary influencer of the Old and nowadays, the efforts are more to preserve in the face of growing frequency of play as well as addressing the coastal erosion issues. The Old still hosts the Open every five years and is closed every Sunday for the public at large to enjoy its space.

The Old is regarded as the first golf course, the birthplace of the game. While the appeal for many is the history and fame, at its core the Old is an out and back links with a knowing elegance and sophistication one can only learn over time. Bobby Jones’ famous relationship with the Old included walking off and tearing up his scorecard during a tournament to ultimately proclaiming thirty years later, “I could take out of my life everything except my experiences at St. Andrews and I’d still have a rich, full life.” The course is well adept at its demands for innovative shots amongst the sand, wind and contours. The angular strategy and boundless ground game add to the excitement and ever changing versatility. The greens are delightfully daunting gauntlets. And goodness, the bunkers. Their variety is far ranging, from small meddlesome pot bunkers to cavernous beachheads that offer some brute intimidation. Most of them are named, such as Beardies, Ginger Beer, Deacon Sime, Sutherland, Kitchen, Road and Hell. All of this on a course with ample width, no trees and minimal water hazards (just the burn at the First and Eighteenth). The structure of play is quite simply the most engaging I have come across, epitomizing an infinite array of golfing styles about it. Putt your approach, bump and run it, pitch it, full swing iron from one side or the other in various shapes and heights; every shot requires its very own set of aspects and consequences. The randomness of the natural elements at both land and air make it all the more engaging and soulful. All of this lives, breathes, evolves and changes, and in both artful arrangement and continued evolution, the golfer always learns every time upon it. By all means, however, the universal truth of the course above all else is, just don’t go right.

The round came and went. The sun eventually set as we settled at the Rusacks roof top, darkness closing down the course like a stage curtain. The next day, I was up yet again with the dawn. As we drove out of town on our way to Carnoustie, we drove by the Dunvegan, then a clearing showed the Old in the morning fog. I stared for it as long as I could, wondering when I would see it again but the road ahead continued indifferently.

The First is a 355 yard par 4 (from the Blues). “Burn.” The Royal and Ancient clubhouse looks on as the opening tee shot consists of one of the widest fairways in golf. The introductory shot largely depends on wind in avoiding the Swilcan burn ahead. Only a stiffer head wind will allow driver off the tee, any other wind or lack thereof requires something much shorter. The walk to the approach shot moves the golfer away from the town and he is faced with the only forced carry water shot of the round. The burn crosses the fairway and the green is immediately on the other side, moving back to front towards it. The green is quite large and one quickly realizes the size of the fairways and greens does well to accommodate the wind, as well as allow an array of pin positions that in turn affect the dynamics of the hole altogether. The golfer needs to start thinking through his shots right away yet has some leeway in doing so. Most of the time it should be a manageable opener but the wind always has something to say about that.

The Second is a 385 yard par 4. “Dyke.” This is the first example of a much tempered width on some of the tee shots. Yes there is room but in terms of fairway width, it is on the narrow side, starting very narrow and widening just a tad further down the line. Width only really shows itself at the green, which is the first double green we encounter. The tee shot needs to situate itself between Cheape’s bunker and the mounds on the left and gorse on the right, then carry the mounds and troublesome pot bunkers before the green on approach. A diagonal ridge runs through the green, giving it most of its definition. The high side is left and low side is right. Bunkers loom very close about the front edge. The green is mesmerizing and its surrounds add to the infinite interest. The Old yet again revealing itself in layers.

The Third is a 344 yard par 4. “Cartgate (Out).” More width than the Second, the tee shots seem to nudge you ever so slightly to the left and encourage risk for a favorable approach. Such is the case here where gorse and bunkers on the right need to be avoided yet too far left will hit a contoured ridge that runs most of the length of the fairway. One should also not veer too far left because of the Cartgate bunker, which sits at the left front center before the green. The further left one goes, the more the bunker comes into play, which is substantial. And lest we forget the pesty pot bunker on the left that comes into play more often when the wind is with the golfer. The terrain rumples and depresses before the green and spreads to the right, which is tough to see from approach shot territory yet should be considered for those opting for the ground.

The Fourth is a 402 yard par 4. “Ginger Beer.” Former greenskeeper and caddie David “Auld Daw” Anderson would serve golfers ginger beer behind the green here and those coming in at the adjacent Fourteenth. Some holes gently nudge the tee shot to the left while others are a bit more emphatic about it, like Ginger Beer. The space straight ahead off the tee is no good as the fairway meanders and drifts here. Moving to the left before the Sutherland bunker gets you to raised ground for the approach yet will need to carry the Students and Cottage bunkers to reach the green. Tee shots carrying the center and staying on line will end up in a narrow valley with the best line into the green. The front bunker just before the green marks its center.

The Fifth is a 509 yard par 5. “Hole O’Cross (Out)”. Once again the course harkens us to stay slightly left off the tee. The Seven Sisters bunkers are off to the right and guard that side nicely. Hell bunker is across from them well off to the left. There’s a joke in there some where about if one had seven sisters, they might prefer Hell but I digress. The second shot likely sets up a short approach so long as the golfer isn’t out of position with the primary decision being whether to lay up or try to get past the Spectacles bunkers. There’s a large depression after the Spectacles and green that isn’t a bad place to end up for the pitch on to the green, which is immense. It’s almost a sea of ripples, renewing the adventure of the hole altogether.

The Sixth is a 358 yard par 4. “Heathery (Out).” The tee shot I mostly blind as gorse and long grass mounds impede views beyond but the fairway after them restores the width we’ve heard so much about. Once again, left center off the tee is best. The tee shot landing area is guarded on both sides with bunkers even with fairway well past the ones on the left. There’s a gully before the green so an approach well into the green ensures it stays on.

The Seventh is a 347 yard par 4. “High (Out).” The immediate area after the tee needs to be cleared, the Hill bunker and distant Eden River a good line to settle on. The approach and green are among the tougher on the front. The green is sinewy, wildly contoured and generally moves from left to right. The Shell bunker has to be the largest on the course and it guards the front center while the Strath guards tighter to the green in the same area. One has to embrace the left side on the approach to account for the green movement all while avoiding the Shell and Strath. We’ll visit this green again on the back and the travails my group had in dealing with it. Such calamities are just as possible on the left side of the green for this hole. This is the beginning of the six hole stretch known as the Loop.

The Eighth is a 157 yard par 3. “Short.” Wind can largely dictate things here and usually does. One of the more wide open parts of the course and further out, the wind indeed whips about in seemingly third dimensional direction. Thank heavens the green is large. It moves slightly front to back and the two small pot bunkers at the front come into play much more than one would think possible at first blush.

The Ninth is a 283 yard par 4. “End.” Very much into the course at this point and feeling varying degrees of surreal, my caddie urged me to go all out at the tee for the green. I gave it a lash but lost it once I looked up. Instead of squinting in the distance trying to pick it up, I decided to simply watch the faces of my group for their reaction. They seemed entertained and then all of a sudden exclaimed with surprised excitement as my ball apparently flirted closely with one of the bunkers before breaking free and getting near the green. More than anything, I’ll remember those faces watching in anticipation. It’s a short par 4 and is reachable from the tee so long as the wind is cooperating. There are a couple center line bunkers to consider, which once again underscore a left center line off the tee.

The front nine gets us out to the first half of the routing, which is in the shape of a shepherd’s crook. A slew of par 4’s for the most part all moving in the same direction yet manage to vary themselves in all kinds of ways while the 5 and 3 come at the right times and are of the right kind of character. All of the holes are strong and evoke the spectrum of spirited strategy. My ranking of them would be 7, 2, 5, 9, 4, 1, 3, 6, 8.

The back nine starts with the 310 yard par 4 Tenth. “Bobby Jones.” The Tenth shares a fairway with the Ninth for the most part and provides the most freedom of any hole to go right off the tee. The green is immense and shares with the Eighth, a subtle thumbprint impressing the front left and a higher plateau at the rear left. I never got the message and blasted my drives both days left of center ending up in deep grass and gorse. The second day, I almost knew where to find my ball as the caddies were about to give up on it. I’m living proof that shots can recover from such nasty entanglement. For most though, enjoy what should have been a bit of a reprieve because most of the back nine expects the golfer to be at his prime. Bobby Jones loved St. Andrews and St. Andrews loved Bobby Jones. To wit, this was the last hole named on the Old.

The Eleventh is a 164 yard par 3. “High (In).” In my ignorance, I kept referring to this par 3 as the Eden and the caddie had no idea what I was talking about. I knew it some where in the recess of my mind but the Eden River is behind the green, which is what the template was named from with the par 3 Eden based off the hole. My favorite template to be sure and I was gratified to walk off with a par after watching everyone else in my group struggle to get close to the hole. The golfer must deal with the inevitable wind and then there’s the shallow, sinewy green. We dealt with it at the Seventh almost from the side but here, our angle makes the green wide, shallow with a general back to front and an array of wild contours. The Shell bunker is short of the green taking up lots of space while the back is no good at all and the Strath bunker may be even more harrowing than the Shell. It’s a wonderful example of a complex, shorter par 3 that remains newly engaging every time one plays it. The original played better than any of the templates I have encountered but in turn, made me appreciate the better Eden par 3’s out there and the aspects of this hole they were able to replicate in their own mold. The view of the river from the green, with most of the back nine still ahead for us, was indeed the highlight of the trip. It could be my favorite par 3 ever.

The Twelfth is a 303 yard par 4. “Heathery (In).” A bit of skullduggery off the tee here and the caddies worth their weight in gold, if they haven’t already established their value and they most likely have. A cluster of bunkers reside in the middle of the fairway, including the larger Stroke bunker, which cannot be seen from the tee. My caddie sorted out a great lefter left center line to maneuver around them and then the approach is to the green shared with the Sixth, yet the in/right side is more rambunctious with more pronounced mounding. The tee shot dictates a lot of the structure of play for the golfer on this shorter par 4 but the green certainly gives nothing away.

The Thirteenth is a 391 yard par 4. “Hole O’Cross (In).” Yet another holes where the tee shot should be navigated scrupulously because the center line looks deceptively tempting. The Coffins are a group of bunkers out on that center line, in waiting for those tee shots of ignorance. While it begins at the Tenth, this hole and the prior give us some substance at how the course can be played in the opposite direction. It starts with the shared fairways and of course the double greens, then extends to where the width is. Here, the width is just off the tee (hence the green at the In hole) as well as near the green (providing opportunity to approach it from various directions) while the center is more confined near the Walkinshaw’s Grave. A Lion’s Mouth is just at the front center of the green, denoted not by a bunker but by a tuft of long grass. The green is massive while the Hole O’Cross bunker on the right is deep and dangerous. By all means, the left side on approach is a matter of intuitive survival.

The Fourteenth is a 514 yard par 5. “Long.” God bless my caddie and mercy on me for letting him down. He gave me a line off the tee that needed to cover the Beardies, a collection of center line bunkers, based on how I had been driving it the whole round. Except for this time, as a well meaning shot lacked the usual vigor and plopped in one of them, leaving my caddie mad at himself for suggesting that line in the first place. I assured him it was fine, but he knew what was to come and as I recovered only to ground my next shot, he sighed with relief as I ended up short of Hell bunker and was able to get on the green from there and manage a bogey. Like the last few holes, the left side is the Out hole yet can be used strategically to get to the green here (so long as the Out groups aren’t endangered. The primary objective is to avoid the Hell bunker and its surrounding conundrums to safely reach the green and that will largely depend on the whims of the tee shot. The fairway is higher than the left side, known as the Elysian Fields. Elysium was known in Greek mythology as paradise for the heroic and virtuous after death. Hell is, um, the opposite. So the golfer has these two conflicting spiritual havens all on the same long hole. Embrace the good one and avoid the bad one, such as in life. There is more room than one may initially believe between Hell and the green, so plot it out carefully. The green is wide and has a good amount of front to back movement.

The Fifteenth is a 391 yard par 4. “Cartgate (In).” The town now starts to come into view, sanctuary of home will come soon. And as the golfer gazes upon the town and may breathe in some nostalgic character of the place, he will also be asked to hit his tee shot between the two prominent mounds on the horizon, known as Miss Grainger’s bosoms. Poor Mis Grainger. This orients the golfer and gets him to the right of the Sutherland bunker, which then gives him the best approach line to the green so long as he carries Rob’s bunkers in the throat of fairway before the green. The green is deep but don’t get greedy since the imposing Cartgate bunker will happily render punishment for those overly aggressive shots. Hole after hole, it’s just splendidly elegant strategic adventure.

The Sixteenth is a 346 yard par 4. “Corner of the Dyke.” The tee shot here is a good prelude to the next and it’s evident anything to the right will be out of bounds. The Principal’s Nose bunker protects the left side. One may consider a lay up off the tee short of the bunker to the wide part of the fairway. Nicklaus called this lay up something only amateurs should consider. Meaning, even the Old has spots where it’s time to hit a golf shot. The closer one stays to the right side, the more ideal the approach and the bunkers are so artfully placed that those needing to recover from the tee will likely need to select shots short of the green. The green has a high right and lower left, which is why I actually like the left side for the approach, but that means flirting with the Principal, Grant’s, and Wig, respectively. I found it to be one of the tougher holes.

The Seventeenth is a 427 yard par 4. “Road.” I will need to try and fare better next time. The tee shot over the hotel was fine enough, the hybrid shot off the hardpan over it the day prior more than readied me for carrying it with driver. The fairway is narrow though yet smartly devoid of bunkers. The long grass impedes from the left to make sure the golfer isn’t rewarded for bailing out to the left off the tee but most tee shots will have a shot at the green. The Road bunker mostly blocks out any view of the green and hitting to the front right side is prime position but means one is flirting with that Old Station Road. It was a longer approach for me either based on the wind or lie and I ended up past the Road bunker at the foot of the left rear portion of the green. The problem was the pin was front right and there was no way I was going to try and carry the Road bunker, so I decided to putt around it, to the applause of the my caddie. Par was still in play by God. It was short lived, as the adrenaline put too much on my putt and I watched in horror as it moved off the green and on to the road.

The caddies have this prepared routine down for those that go on the road. They automatically give you your putter and remind you there is no relief; you must hit it off the road. The reason I know this is prepared is because I ended up in the fucking road both days and got the same spiel. The first time, I rejected the putter and asked for my wedge. This time, I was too much in shock but questioned the entire ordeal where they offer putter. Perhaps the best option for a lot of golfers but not those who have any sense with a wedge, in my worthless opinion. At any rate, I putted anyways and didn’t make it through the bank of rough before the green, putted again to get on and limped off with double, enraged. Oh if I could just get that first putt back, I’d be more elegant and wiser on the whole thing, avoiding the road and staying in that blissful state. Yet I wouldn’t have the story of how the Road got me, one of the countless hapless victims of its genius.

The Eighteenth is a 366 yard par 4. “Tom Morris.” Like the First, the tee shot is to seemingly endless width, just stay left. My wipy push fade ended up weakly on the fairway, still sore about the misfortunes of the hole prior. There’s a road that crosses the fairway called Grannie Clark’s Wynd that you’ll need to hit off of if any of your shots end up on it. The approach is to the green sitting above the fairway, with the Valley of Sin lurking to the short left. Old Tom built this green (considered it his finest work) and the Valley collects a lot more balls that it may seem, so the approach must be hearty, possibly flirting with the back wall. The green moves from right to left and back to front. I was in the Valley of Sin both times I played this hole. I did my penance for the round prior and this time, was able to rise from that Valley near the hole to depart with par. The Road hole now a distant memory, I looked back to the course and saw it glowing in gold as the sun set ever so softly, slowly.

The back nine is famously touted as the best nine holes in the game. It’s easy to see why. I loved every hole and they all do well in affirming the legend of the Old. My ranking of them is 17, 11, 14, 18, 15, 10, 16, 13, 12.

The Old has been crafted by nature and time, guided by Old Tom. Its age and history benefit it greatly in the sense that it is sacrilege for it to change in any dramatic fashion. Immune from the misled or altruistic ambitions of green committees or architects or purveyors, the course has allowed to flourish in its preserved imperfect excellence. In turn, the layers of its character remain deeply embedded in intricacy, to which the golfer can only learn over time and experience. My time here was limited and I was afforded a window into its brilliance, knowing it was such a glance and far from all that is ripe for discovery. The tee shots must be with purpose, the approaches with balance. The trouble is aplenty and calls upon the golfer’s ingenuity in handling. The greens are immaculate and insist on a similar artful poetic cadence. In all, what the Old does better than any where else I have come across is how it draws upon the golfer’s soulful inspiration on each shot. The embodiment of the game was born here, likely for a reason, and is now rightfully holy land for the golfer.

I was wrong about the Old course. Years ago, I wrote about how I’d probably only visit a couple times and there just wasn’t enough time to get there as much as I’d like. That was indeed wrong. One could see the Reverse lottery win as a calling. A calling to get to a corner of the world perhaps brought into existence for the game, sooner rather than later. Carpe diem, in this single life we all have. It is already calling again and answering that call has become more imperative from what I was able to take in during my time there. So as the car moved away from the Old out of sight, the whispers remained and remain today. They call out, a slow beating drum, to the soul. “Soon.” I’ll never wait until I’m ready again.

Clubhouse/Pro Shop: The Tom Morris grill is the clubhouse, which has a visitor’s center feel to it. It’s fine and there is a pro shop with apparel. The starter’s shack is next to the First and is more of a waiting station, yet has food and drinks with a few seating areas. There are a number of shops in St. Andrews that also sell whatever you can imagine, including the Old Course shop to the right of the Eighteenth. I found myself more of a Dunvegan and Rusack’s guy, both are almost on the course.

Practice area: There’s a driving range over at the Eden’s course and shuttle service from the Old over there. We never used it, just didn’t need any range time with all the holes we were playing. The putting green near the First, as well as the Himalayas putting course, are worth some time on before the round.