Why Sheep Are Scared

Editor’s note: We have heard the complaints from some readers that there was “false advertising” about not having a lot of golf coverage in the blog yesterday.  Let me say that from this end the response was “they DO realize this is a GOLF trip, right?” Let me point out that Monday’s round included OVER 300 shots and I ONLY recounted a handful!!! But, to accommodate those who don’t want to read about golf, I will put in a marker to let them not read the “boring stuff” and then a bold marker to indicate when they can go back to reading the “other stuff.”

Today we played the New Course.   There is no better introduction than the words of the St. Andrews Golf Trust official web page:

The oldest ‘new’ course in the world, the second course at the Home of Golf was built by the Keeper of the Green Tom Morris in 1895 and it was imaginatively named to differentiate from its famous neighbour.

At the end, we went up on the roof and took shots of the four courses that circle the golf center building – where we’ve checked in several times.

Back up: yesterday morning in the car park (British for parking lot) as we came in this guy walks across the lot without long sleeves. Using my best American wit (it was day one remember), I say “Hey, laddie, where’s your jumper? I’ve got a spare in the car I can loan.”  He laughs and says “I’m going to my car [it may have been “mae car”] for one.”  Well, as life has it, here we are at the starter’s booth and here he comes (with jumper on) and there was some half-wit (that’d be me) exchange.  Turned out his group was right behind us.  We said “hey, how’d you do?” As they came off the course (remember, we walked a block to have beers).

Well, here we are at the starter’s desk today and here he is again! So, we chat a moment, and he’s in the tee time right before us.  They took off – you’ll hear more later – and we didn’t really see them the rest of the day.  But we finished on that roof, looking out and here they are!  So, we had a wee chat. My friend was now red-faced (as I am, and Butch, though Mike and JP seem to just get darker brown somehow).  We talked about play, and the view, which is like golf crack, and they talk about Carnoustie (where we are playing Friday) and the courses on the west coast. And, of course, The Donald, as he now owns the one, Turnberry, and (unbelievably) has made a big dea
l of how he’s going to make this 100 year old course and resort better.  Turns out they are from Glasgow, and today was their last day.  The father (of my friend and his brother) had an accent that we could barely decipher.  It was one of those bonding over golf moments across nations. And they took that awesome picture of the four of us with the toun (Scottish for town, of course) and the Himalayas (the par 3 there next to the old course and between where we were standing and the toun) and the first and last few holes of the Old Course.

Icymi here's the link again
Story 2 about our socializing on the golf course and abouts: so we are playing along but the starter warns us “if a member comes along they get to go before ya.”  None do, but a twosome, a couple,  appears behind us as we are going down an early hole.  By seven they’ve been right on our backsides this long and we decide to let them play through (the greens are just a few steps to the next tee).

So, we hit our tee balls on 7 and waved them up to play through.

They walk up and he says “did ye all hit em in the fairway?”  We laughed because no one hit the fairway, with balls scattered in four directions.  Someone said “it’s wide open for you.”  He says “oh, I won’t hit it, but my wife hits it straight down the middle.”  To which I say “eh, where’s she playing today then?”  Dead silence.  Crickets.

I have just been told JP’s version of this story and we all about wet our pants.  JP says “you got this look like a kid who dropped his ice cream cone.”  Butch said “it was like you’d saved this line for years and they didn’t get it.”  JP can make the look I had.  ::).  I said “I was going to explain…” JP says “I could see you were going to and I was going to nudge you to stop you from saying something.”  I guess my shoulders slumped.

This should be the first place (and not the last) where you say “poor Steve.”

Next place: I am completely messed up.  Sleep deprived, jet lagged, tired, etc, etc.  Here’s the evidence: the starter gave me four yardage books, four pin placement sheets, and four pencils.  It wasn’t long before I couldn’t find either the placement sheet or the pencil.  And as I wanted a drink of water, my bottle of water disappeared.  I found a snickers wrapper in a pocket instead – but I had no snickers today (honestly)!  Well, you get the idea…

Now GOLF TALK (those of you who don’t want golf, skip from here to next bold notice):  The wind was stronger, but the same direction, as yesterday.  Maybe 15-20 mph vs. 10-15.  It was one club stronger (golf talk) than before.  I did NOT have a good day.  The funniest (ha ha) story is on the par 5 on the back and I hit this low driver that runs into the next fairway and I have a good shot toward the green (remember there’s no trees so there’s nothing above ground to stop you, mostly).  I aim at this little pot bunker (you saw yesterday’s videos) with this cross wind and hit my 3 wood as good as I’ve hit one all year.  I don’t see where it rolls to, but it was right at the bunker – the wind never moved it.  So I walk up, with JP nearby, and there it is, not just in the fecking bunker but near the front wall.  I yell the f-bomb, mad as heck.  JP tells it this way, “so he gets in the bunker, tries to turn this way, no, the other way, no…finally he turns and hits it out backward.  His chili was hot and he hits the shot – I was trying get video but I couldn't fast enough  so I didn't see but he just turns and looks at me with this ‘what the **** look?’ And I’m like ‘what did I do?” And I realize ‘did you hit it in the gorse” and all he does is says is yeah, slumps his shoulders  and stomps backwards into the gorse.’”  LOL.   Yeah, I was pretty damned pissed.  Then the next shot comes up in the rough to the left of the green (remember I went BACkWARD into the gorse) and they are on the green and here is a Dallas Cowboys bag, then, about 15 yards farther down the green to the hill, another bag in my line.  I said something like “do you want me to hit through both bags or just one?”  Mike moved John’s and I hit it on and they let me pick up (I did this A LOT today).

We walk to the next tee and they are standing there.  JP reports the couple in front of us told him to hit three clubs more, then we stand there.  I say something like (remember I’m not a happy camper) “why are we standing here and not hitting?” They say “we’re not supposed to” and I want to know why – there was no apparent reason – though, as you might not know, the Old Course famously has the 8th and 11th cross and you have to wait one way for the other – and they say “it’s on that sign.”  See picture of sign right on link – yes, it was 2 feet from me!!!!! Grrrr….

Okay, and, finally, TwiCE I hit shots that rolled around the infamous bunkers and I was happy it wasn’t in.  Then I went and dumped the next shot in!?!!?!?  The one I was so mad after not getting it out the first time I hit it out one handed, more in rage than a real shot, and it came out right and fairly close to the pin.  Did NOT make me happier.

On the “his chili was hot” theme, JP hit a drive on the second hole that we thought was brilliant – long and down the left side of the fairway.  I was the only one near him when he found it – in one of the pot bunkers – but I couldn’t get my camera out fast enough to video HIM in one of them.  ):  There’s a picture of him right after, which is significant – the sand blew back in his face after the shot and into his clothes (remember, this is #2).  An R-rated version of this blog (okay, a MORE R-rated version) would provide his hilarious description of where the sand went and what he was going have to do in the shower to get it out.

We decided the New Course was tighter than the Old Course.  And not quite as nicely kempt.  But Mike and JP both thought they liked it more.  Ironically (?) we played off of the Old Course – in fact, Butch admitted playing most of the first nine, which runs with the Old Course on the left, out of the Old Course.  :). “Liked it that much laddy?” He was asked several times.

No one played particularly well. There were no spectacular blow ups by JP…but some ugly holes by yours truly (Mike helped me by telling me that only 3 7’s on a card got you 20% of the way to not breaking a hundred).

Back to non-golf:  After chatting with our friends from Glasgow, we had a drink in the center, but their menu was limited and they didn’t have anything on draft!!! The crime!  I suggested we go home, shower, then go to dinner out.

There was a lengthy, but not conclusive discussion of what to do tomorrow.  According to my weather app it has a wind icon for tomorrow.  ):  JP had an app (we had wifi in the center) that said 20 mph winds, again from the NE.  But ONLY 19 on Thursday.  LOL. But we all decided our bodies could use the rest [note, they kept saying “we’ve played 3 days straight.”  Finally I said “no we haven’t, we didn’t play Sunday.”  They said “we aren’t counting Sunday.”  I guess it’s a new rule on the trip – we don’t count Sundays].  So we moved the tee time, on the Jubilee Course, you’ll all know that it was built in 1897 for Victoria’s jubilee, to Thursday morning.

Then I said “I want to see the university,” and they said great, so instead of turning right out of the golf courses, I went left.

There are pictures of the university, the cathedral and the castle on the link.  Both cathedral and castle are in ruins.  JP kept saying “the Castle course [where we are playing Saturday]  is right over there” and I kept wondering where there was land for a golf course.  As we look across the bay, to the south and east, we see this clubhouse looking building. “That’s the Castle Course”.

We drove out there just to see if it was as spectacular as it looked.  It is.  Pictures in link.  A whole different angle of the toun, from the southeast instead of the northwest.  It was a beautiful day out and we had a Guinness there (“for lunch”, like Irish workmen) and enjoyed the views.

BTW, Friday we play at Carnoustie.  It is (we were told at the Castle Course) 5 miles across the bay.  And it’s over the white flag, in the one picture, we were told.  So you know.

Okay, Butch chose Italian, rather than fish and chips (our first choice for dnner).

There’s food porn – I had Rigatoni di Manzo.  It was v good.  The place was v. Good.  The house wine (I think Butch killed most of the bottle himself, JP for some reason had a Peroni chaser with it).

Two dinner stories.  We got to talking about mushrooms so I say “have you ever heard the story about Karen and I and mushrooms?”  They say no and I tell them the story – the short version is that in about our X year of marriage we discovered we had been ordering mushrooms on our pizza because we both thought other liked them.  :). So, on goes dinner and somehow mushrooms come up again, I think they were in Mike’s meal, and I say “have you ever heard the story about Karen and I and the mushrooms?”  I thought they were going to wet themselves.  I told them, when I could get a word in edge wise, “the essence of comedy is timing.”

Here you go: this couple is sitting behind us, and learning new things, I’m sure (smile) – I apologized to them before we sat down for what they were about to experience.  As we got up (we didn’t have dessert, she had this huge sundae), Butch says to the guy “hey, are you from the North Pole?”  He just rubbed his beard in recognition and smiled.  Butch goes on with a line I’ve already heard four times – “I color mine because everyone thinks I look too young” (see photo of my brother-in-law).  Without missing a beat the guy says, “so do I, the whole thing [he had white hair too].  I really am only 29!”  WE crack up.  Then he says “this is my mother.”  LMAO.  I said “you’ll pay for that one later, lad.” :)

Then back for the euchre game. There was much trash talking today from JP (note: Mike does NOT talk much, but eats like I don’t know what – he ate HIS dinner, the light colored pasta in the pictures, AND the leftover half of mine, and we had appetizers!) about who can actually play cards.  Old guys won tonight.  Will it shut him up tomorrow? No.

Tomorrow: we are going to Edinburgh. We are seeing the castle and the palace – the Royal Mile – a concession to history and tourism – and then we are crossing into new town to do the Rose Street mile – an untold number of pubs in a mile.  The Rose St challenge is to drink a pint in every pub on it.  The Dodson brothers are planning on taking up the challenge.  Scotland has zero tolerance drunk driving laws; I will not be imbibing.  But I hope it goes well.  LOL.

Now, this: yesterday they said something that all I could do was put my head in my hands and sob (if I had a pound coin for every time Butch as called me a rich liberal, I could charter a plane home).  I said “you’ve damaged my sensibility.”  JP says “finally! It’s day 4 [note: they CAN’T count!] – we had the over/under lower and everyone had the lower.”  LOL.

So, to end, this list, without details to show how damaged I now am.

 I did NOT know what prairie dogging was; I do now.  Sadly.
 I did NOT know what crop dusting was; I do now.  Sadly.
 I did NOT know what I know, or was told, never mind, about sheep; I can never get it out of my head.  And then there’s the picture of today’s shirt, in matching gray to go with JP (that story will have to wait for personal telling), with the sheep on it and what…well, just forget it…forget it…
 I did not know about being the big spoon.

If you don’t know any of this, and you might have damaged sensibility DO NOT LOOK IT UP!!!!!

I am damaged.  But I am having a great time.