Friday Aug 13, Day 7, Round 6



Sunrise casting long shadows over the Old Course, from our hotel room window. Awoke early in anticipation of the round on the ultimate course, the oldest course in all of golf, the Old Course at St Andrews. 0700 tee time meant no time for breakfast, just enough to grab the clubs from the bus and walk across 18th fairway to the starters box by the first tee. Skies are clearer but still a little sketchy at tee time, but we are all mentally prepared for what should be the most historic round of golf in our lives:



First tee, me in my Ancient Red Douglas tank, Muirfield angora sweater, Cheviot fancy top hose, game face on. Grey flat cap because the red tam was still wet from previous rainy days play.

Actually a pretty good day, ultimately NO RAIN, another 20 knot west wind, played pretty well, hitting a lot of fairways and a fair number of greens, putting better but not great----sank one 10 footer to win a hole with a clutch par, then sank a 40 footer to salvage par later in the round. Drove OVER the green on one short par 4, 3 yards short of another, but did not make par on either. Aarrgh. Again, my game woke up on the last three holes. 16--Drove to within 5 yards of the green, but on the wrong side of a bunker, and drubbed my second shot into that very same bunker, making bogey from there.



17, the infamous Road Hole, where you have to hit your drive across a road, a stone fence, a low barn-like portion of the Old Course Hotel (used to be a line of houses there originally), then back over the fence and road to a fairway running practically 90 degrees to the apparent tee shot. Risk:reward to the max--the more you hit over the building, the more distance you cut off for your second shot, but it is all blind as you have no real idea where your ball lands until you walk around the corner to find it. I hit one of my best drives of the week, just a little fade on it, leaving it in what my caddie (former club champ in 1999) said was as good as it gets----just right of the fairway in the only level lie within 50 yards, looking right down the pipe at the long axis of the green.




Second shot to 35 feet, then the putter failed again---three putt for a bogey. Arrgh.



18th hole, across the Swilcan Burn, to the rugby field sized fairway shared with the 1st hole, on our left coming at us. Boomed another drive slightly left of center but 25 yards past the road which crosses the 1st and 18th fairways, something only about 5% of amateurs do, according to my caddie. We took the obligatory photo crossing the Golfer's Bridge over Swilcan Burn:



Unfortunately, some japanese golfer coming off number one mistook my ball for his and hit mine down number one, so I was left standing alone in 18 fairway where my ball should have been, while my caddy runs after the japanese guy to retrieve my ball, and my mates all hit their shots on up to the 18th green. Once the ball was retrieved and replaced I found myself standing alone in the 18th fairway, hitting my wedge to the green, again leaving another 40 footer for birdie.



Triumphant kilted stroll up 18 to the applause of the small crowd watching and taking pictures (probably applause for the kilt, not the shot). Disaster strikes when I bring out the putter, as I drill my put 10 feet past the hole, then miss the come back for another three putt bogey to finish the round---aarrgh




Fun day, fun round, even though again some mediocre play and my ever-failing putter. Forever etched in my mind, though, forever.

More to come.

j


P.S. I just now realized we played our historic round, my best of the week, on Friday the 13th----good think I wasn't thinking about it then, but maybe that can be my excuse for my failing putter.

j