The day began with a Dr. Johnson classic. Butch comes from the bathroom (remember we only have one) and says, “If there’s a toilets.com, we aren’t getting 5-stars.” Scatological discussion 1,010. ):
Three of us, unnamed, went into town to shop. We shopped for bolognese in a jar, spaghetti, etc to have for dinner tonight. And other things that shall remain unnamed. BTW, I ran out of money on my one debit card. NOT a good sign.
Butch found a bakery and we had pastries for breakfast. Requisite food porn picture in this link.
We brought one of the donuts back for JP, who is the anti-Mike in terms of eating, and he ate about 3 bites and said “I’m in diabetic shock.” He was unaware there was custard in the center in large quantities. I told him that the pastry was only an excuse to eat the custard middle.
Then away to Carnoustie. BTW, we got up and found the weather here gray and windy. Like 8 degrees. (And for my sister-in-law, a British money sign is a curly script L with a horizontal strike through in the middle…not a damn # which is easy enough :))
I made a playlist for the trip, on JP’s request, and we sang along to “Friends in Low Places,” a Bubba favorite. It was less than an hour to Carnoustie.
We shopped, ending with the blue hat purchase – there was much discussion about what color – JP, OC (for those who’ve been paying attention to the pictures) wanted gray. I thought it was awfully boring…we settled on the blue, which matched my WVCC wind shirt, Butch’s sweater, etc. The pic is in the blog.
The wind was a solid 20 mph from the north. And you can see from the first tee picture it wasn’t warm – yes, about 8 degrees (this MS Word for iPad app doesn’t do symbols at all, dammit!). You can see there were no matching hats (they were getting monogrammed).
JP and I talked ahead of time; he’s sporting a bad knee (he wears a brace to play) and I’m an old man, so we decided to spend the 50#s (for Lanissa) and tip on a caddy and have him (or her) carry for each of us for 9 holes. Carnoustie is LOOOOOOOONG. By at least 500 yards longer the longest course we’ve played. And it was the heaviest wind of the week.
Billy was from Carnoustie. Been caddying there since he met a Scottish girl and married her and moved to her home. He was Welsh, from near Swansea. That was 35 years ago. He has a daughter my daughter’s age and a son younger. WE got along fine. There’s an inadvertent picture of him (he and JP traded pride about similar hair dos).
Real golf talk: The first hole has a burn (Scottish for creek), which meanders through the property on the left, and Mike and I got off to a rip-roaring start by hitting in there. First day all week I’ve hit the ball left! Insert (as Butch did) appropriate political joke. :). We came off what was a relatively easy hole with 7s on the score card – all of us!!! It was cold (had I mentioned this?). I was wearing 5 layers. I had two more to put on, and Gore-Tex pants (a Christmas present, thank you, dear), but never had to.
No one played well. Wind, chill, and the difficulty of the course. But no one really chopped it up, either. Billy helped everyone find balls, and if you were in the bunker, he raked for you (this is handy, as you will all understand). He read my putts and I missed. ):
I taught Billy a few new words the first four holes. Then on five, after just a bunch of horrid shots, he turns to me and says “you’re not smiling, come on, sir.” I grumbled (can ANY reader imagine?!!??!?) and he said “roll this putt in one and that will put a smile on your face.” It so happens JP took a picture of me about to putt this putt – it’s in the collection. I turned to him, handed him the putter and said “for that to happen”…he cracked up. :). No, Mrs Hicks, not another dud. :)
I actually started playing better after that, partly because that probably relaxed me some, and partly because we got to the south corner of the property and turned so instead of a crosswind we played downwind, with an out-of-bounds fence down the left, for 3 holes. Before turning north for two holes and pretty much back into the wind the last 8.
Billy did a great job of finding balls, JP practically hugged him on 11 when he hit a shot off to the right into the wind that landed on a bridge over the burn. He assumed it was lost but Billy found it.
Billy said “keep your head down” as he told me what shot to hit, which seemed to help.
On two I said something about wanting to be in one of the bunkers just to have the experience and Billy said “careful what you wish for.” In one of our talks, I said something about not feeling as good as I did ten years ago on my visit with Ian here (it was an even windier day), Billy said “we sing from the same hymn book there.” Billy rolled his own cigarettes.
For the first time in two rounds, their was toilet and snack bar beside 10. Butch and Mike got pies (in Britain, filled with meat and gravy filling for a light meal at lunch – rather than the ubiquitous hot dog on an American course). I got a snickers bar. I went from looking like Betty White to Jordan Spieth. LOL.
I made a brilliant par from one of the traps (Billy had me hitting over the high lips when I wouldn’t have tried it myself and I never left one in the bunker all day!) on the par 3 13th. We walked to the next tee and Billy said to me, :”We're done with the hard holes…” I made a noise, JP says (remember, I’ve played here before and watched on TV as pros struggle coming home), “now you’ve got the fucking hard holes.” I told this to the others and we all cracked up.
Those last 5 holes were damned hard. The wind was straight into our face for 4 of them. 16 today was 211 yard par 3 – into a 20 mph wind! Everyone except JP hit driver. BTW, Billy thought JP had game. :).
But I should mention the weather. The wind never let up, but, as you can see, the sun came out, which seemed to make a huge difference. Although I was in 5 layers, I thought just once about going to six, but I wasn’t cold enough to do it and see how I swung since I was hitting decent shots and Billy was guiding me around handily. As you can see, the sun came out, making all the difference. No one needed more. Billy took off his cap at one point, but then put it back on.
The seventeenth is difficult but today downwind – the problem is the burn snakes though the fairway twice! Mike got lucky with a low grounder tee ball that just made it across a bridge on the first one. He then hit the shot of the day with a 3 wood to about 20 feet!
Did I mention how many putts I missed? On 13 I made one and JP says “you just played 6 holes as my partner and never sniffed a putt, and now on the first with Butch you sink that??!?!?” LOL. JP and I both missed the other par 3 within feet of each other and 3 putted from about 60 feet – his first short and mine long.
I hit my tee ball in the water on 18, but Billy had me lay up with a 6.iron, it seemed to be his favorite club :), and I had 80 to the pin. He said gap wedge and I said how about a punch 48 degree. “If you think so, just keep your head down.” I did and hit it to 3 feet. JP says when it got to me my turn “you’ve already won the hole, make a putt” and I did. :)
Golf over: Billy wouldn’t join us for a drink, but told us not to go to the hotel, right under that clock, but across the street to the golf club. We did. They had a host of trophies and medals and the pints were cheaper. After one, I drove us home.
I did so without using Google maps. Which led to a moment: we came around a roundabout and I hit the lane as I thought I should straight away around from the where we came. Two lanes of traffic were roaring toward me. My family will know the noise I made at my recognition at maybe 30 mph I might have been going head-on into traffic!!!!!
But I was okay. :). Safe.
What followed was underwear ruination conversation number xxxx. :).
WE came home to bottled marinara and they have all fallen asleep waiting for me to finish this. :). My Fitbit says 22,000 steps today – the most of the week. And the wind. I am glad I wasn’t carrying the bag today.
We talked afterwards about how lucky we were with the weather – as we were in the car park on arrival we were all freezing and not sure we’d make it. And there was a discussion last summer when I raised the question of playing there and the cost (you don’t want to know) but JP insisted we were that close to a championship course, we had to play. And we were all glad we did. The Open comes back in 2 years and we can watch on TV and wonder, or say “hey, I got up and down there.” It’s a fun feeling.
The weather is supposed to be warmer and less breezy tomorrow, our last day. And the views from the Castle course are to die for – we were there on Tuesday afternoon, remember?
One more day. Today’s match numbers: Butch 8, Steve and Mike 7, poor JP 4. LOL.
And, as a final note: we all got ball markers that said the appropriate score “I broke 100 at Carnoustie.” Or, as we now know to accurately call it: Carnasty.
£ove you £anissa. :) I found the British money symbol
ReplyDeleteAnd the degree one °°°°° :)
Ain't Google grand!
OUr wifi was actually not even showing as an option for awhile ):
And there was no card game; Carnasty took it's toll. Or the damned mushrooms in the bolognese:)