| NEW
CORRESPONDENT FROM BRITAIN |
|
|
| DAVID
WHITE |
|
| FIRST
IN A SERIES OF ARTICLES FROM A BRITISH PERSPECTIVE |
People envy me. “ So, you’re a golf
writer,” they say, “how fantastic;
I wish I had your job.” It’s something I’ve learned to
live with, yet for
every day I spend in the field (let me tell you the sort of
courses I tackle;
a municipal horror covering a reclaimed trash tip one week, a
mega-bucks,
over-the top, lake bespattered ball-dunker the next), there
remain several
days when the glare of a Macintosh screen is as near as I get
to sunlight.
So, give me a break; cut out the envy. Remember, like gluttony
and sloth,
it’s a deadly sin.
For real envy, and a task I’d give my eye
teeth for, fantasise the exotic
world of ‘The Golf Course Appraiser’. This honorary
pastime calls for
competent amateurs to play around the globe, culminating with
their logging
judgmental ratings, each following a set criteria yet with
each editor
setting different standards according to their readership.
What set me thinking was prompted by a
round played recently with an
American chum, who’d been gifted one of these assignments.
After cruising
over to the Auld Country on QE II, he set off round our
coastline, first
ducking west, then south, through the midlands and East
Anglia, north and
over the border, playing and assessing a possible wish-list of
courses we’d
plotted together. Three months and over 60 courses later, not
a single track
had failed to dent his game or his enthusiasm for what he
described as ‘our
unique Britishness.’
Comparing notes, we considered the interest
these so-called ‘top’ lists
generated, while agreeing that one should not place too much
stock by them.
No surprises either, that we chose to differ on several
earmarked as greats,
grands, or also-rans. As he put it, “the
golf hole that makes me quiver
might reveal nothing to you, while your favourite may leave me
stone cold.
And while seven good holes won’t necessarily ensure a course
gets into my top
100, one fabulous hole alone, even one exceptional green, just
might.“
The word ‘art’ kept cropping up, yet
opinions regarding the place a golf
course has in the art world differ widely. Some
architects splutter with
indignation at the very idea of golf architecture as an
artistic pursuit.
Many, however, will cite aesthetics as being important, while
suggesting also
that aesthetics — the prettiness that distracts, if you like
— can fool a
golfer such that he will not notice the things that really
affect how the
hole plays.
Others, the British-born architect Desmond
Muirhead especially, believe
that since golf courses should be approached as works of art,
all these lists
become speculative and superficial. Further, Muirhead
uses a neat example in
his put-down of star ratings by drawing comparison between
paintings and golf
courses, suggesting that though a Rembrandt scholar might
skilfully
authenticate a painting, he wouldn’t dare have the temerity
to rank quality
into a first, second or third category. Yet, by playing
(or, sometimes,
merely by walking) the fairways once or twice, golf courses
are judged and
graded, and not always by the golfing equivalent of a
Rembrandt scholar,
either.
My friend is nothing if not an Anglophile,
so his comments carry more
weight than any first-time tourist. He’s guided more by
local knowledge than
preconception, thus it was encouraging, knowing that all of
his rounds were
played incognito and many were return visits, to hear him talk
about courses
being ‘pulled around’ or ‘brought back from the
brink’. In Britain we’ve an
overkill of grand and ancient courses, many by revered
architects like Colt,
MacKenzie, Simpson; even Old Tom Morris, and it’s true that
some have been
neglected. Most, though, have been subject to highly skilful
restoration.
We’ve grown proud of them, though none bear much resemblance
to the ‘golf as
a watersport’ found in Myrtle Beach or Florida. Nor,
for that matter do they
always resemble chocolate box covers, for prettiness does not,
or should not,
be the yardstick.
In upcoming issues of IncaGolf,
I’ll discuss these worthy outsiders and
off-the-tourist-track areas that richly deserve the touring
golfer’s
attention. I’ll guide you also toward the little things that
can make or mar
a great vacation. One promise. Though some of the classic
courses and tourist
locations will get the run-down, all those cliché-filled and
overworked guide
book recommendations will be shunned, for the simple reason
that once a
traveller gets spoon-fed into believing them, standards
usually drop. And,
wouldn’t you believe it, their prices soar! There are scores
of
American-style courses dotted around our Sceptred Isle, most
of them
painfully overpriced, but I will not sing from that hymn
sheet. OK, though I
struggle with your obsessive water features, when I come to
America I play
American. Tell me if I’m wrong; send me an e-mail at Mightyspyder@aol.com
But, if you’re coming to Britain, won’t you want to
experience our unique Britishness?
|
|