Golf in Scotland is Changing. Let’s Appreciate It While We Can
A tee time at the Old Course in St. Andrews, Scotland, might be the One Ring of golf—very, very precious. It’s one of the most coveted tee times in the game—behind only Augusta National perhaps—and when I was lucky enough to land one a few years ago, I had to make it a part of my Best Year Ever.
I did so not because I’m a fantastic golfer. Far from it. I’m an inconsistent golfer, which is to say that I’m like 99 percent of people on the links: ready to quit my job and try out for the Tour on those rare days when the sun is shining and birdies are flying off my perfectly-angled club face, and barely able to restrain myself from throwing my clubs into a water hazard on the days when I slice more than the Iron Chef —the days when I agree with that classic joke:
Q: Why do they call it “golf?”
A: Because “f&#k” was taken.
I digress. No, I wanted to play the Old Course because it represented a time when the game, and life, were simpler and more pleasurable. During my week in Scotland, my play ranged from good to “Avert your eyes, lads!”, the wind was a constant companion, and our caddies were a cast of Highland characters right out of central casting who soothed our golfing anxieties as much as they counseled us on club selection and playing the “wee breeze.” (Note: to a Scotsman, anything less than a gale is a “wee breeze.”) It was a memorable milestone and a terrific addition to the year.
But that’s not why I’m writing this. I’m writing this because golf in Scotland is changing, and that’s the one place that golf shouldn’t change. If golf is about anything in that stark, beautiful country with its singsong accents and ancient culture, it’s about tradition. But as a recent article in Golf World makes clear, climate change doesn’t care much about tradition. The gist is that increased rain and storm surge could lead to more flooding, which could inundate the Old Course, Royal Troon, and other historic courses.
Golf without St. Andrews? Doesn’t seem possible, but it is. There are other threats to Scottish golf, too: changing economics in Europe, Brexit, and the Scottish independence that might result, and the furious backlash to plans by a certain President to build a second course in Balmedie. But my overall message here isn’t to fret, but to appreciate.
If you love the game, if it’s part of your personal history as it is mine, then get to Scotland and play the game where it began. Take in the ancient courses, the castles and hotels, the villages and traditions. Savor it while you can. Because as with anything else in life that we take for granted, once it’s gone, all we’ll have left is what might have been.
