And then the rain came… Day four started steps outside our hotel at Troon. We had a morning tee time at the Old Course and an afternoon time at the Portland Course. After a good night’s sleep (and no fire alarm wake-up call), we had breakfast at the hotel and made our way over to the Old Course at Troon. It’s a short walk down a path from the hotel as the Barcelo Troon Marine Hotel sits between both courses with spectacular views of the water. We customarily walked through the clubhouse and the pro shop, did our shopping, and went out to the first tee – no warm up. By the time we met our caddies, made a few putts, and walked up to the first tee, it was pissing on us. Everyone broke out the rain gear and battened down the hatches getting ready for what was looking to be a taste of Scotland’s finest weather.
Sensing my left to right misses with my woods were still lurking, I decided to go 4 iron off the tee and proceeded to go the whole day with
irons off the tee. I didn’t break out the driver once on the first 18 and only used my 3 wood twice on my caddy’s strong insistence not to be such a pussy. It worked out and I shot my best round yet, an 83 on a course that played pretty tough under those conditions. It was wet. We were soaked. Harrington had the only umbrella and I forgot my bag cover at home (to which my caddy remarked, “Didn’t you know you were going to Scotland?”). My goal the entire round was to keep my hands and my grips dry. The culmination of my arduous club-drying routine came on the postage stamp hole. I went through a long, painstaking process of putting my tee in the ground, wiping my hands with my towel (while trying to keep the grip on my 8 iron dry), and wiping my grip off with my towel (while trying to keep my hands dry). As I started towards address, I dropped my club on the ground and heard about four or five chuckles from the group (notice that number would include caddies, not just my playing partners). I was THAT guy. And yes, I started all over again…
We finished the Old Course strong and hit the clubhouse for some lunch – untoasted club sandwiches with butter, very solid. Then off to the Portland Course, which was our first round without caddies. The bags were heavy; heavier than I think my bag has ever felt. No one could read a putt and everyone had trouble with the distances. It’s funny how quick we had come to
relying on the caddies and how much they help on shot selection and green reading. Good news was I was finally able to break out the flask I stashed in my bag and trade Captain shots with Juvy to loosen up the round. I played night and day throwing up a 50 on the front nine (two triples and a double) and a 40 on the back nine for a cool 90. The crazy thing about these courses is that they aren’t more difficult than courses in the states if you keep it in the fairway and on the green. But if you get in trouble, they just punish you. I had two bunkers on the day that I couldn’t get out of in the first shot. Juvy developed a stress fracture in his left hand from hacking out of the deep rough. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard from my caddy, “oh you’re fucked.”
It makes me appreciate how good a low round is out here. The course conditions are some of the toughest I’ve ever played on, and the weather conditions are some of the craziest I’ve ever played in. Everyone is constantly on an emotional rollercoaster going from elation to near depression. That’s what makes the trip so amazing – it’s a true test for a golfer.
rtn
Sensing my left to right misses with my woods were still lurking, I decided to go 4 iron off the tee and proceeded to go the whole day with
irons off the tee. I didn’t break out the driver once on the first 18 and only used my 3 wood twice on my caddy’s strong insistence not to be such a pussy. It worked out and I shot my best round yet, an 83 on a course that played pretty tough under those conditions. It was wet. We were soaked. Harrington had the only umbrella and I forgot my bag cover at home (to which my caddy remarked, “Didn’t you know you were going to Scotland?”). My goal the entire round was to keep my hands and my grips dry. The culmination of my arduous club-drying routine came on the postage stamp hole. I went through a long, painstaking process of putting my tee in the ground, wiping my hands with my towel (while trying to keep the grip on my 8 iron dry), and wiping my grip off with my towel (while trying to keep my hands dry). As I started towards address, I dropped my club on the ground and heard about four or five chuckles from the group (notice that number would include caddies, not just my playing partners). I was THAT guy. And yes, I started all over again…
We finished the Old Course strong and hit the clubhouse for some lunch – untoasted club sandwiches with butter, very solid. Then off to the Portland Course, which was our first round without caddies. The bags were heavy; heavier than I think my bag has ever felt. No one could read a putt and everyone had trouble with the distances. It’s funny how quick we had come to
relying on the caddies and how much they help on shot selection and green reading. Good news was I was finally able to break out the flask I stashed in my bag and trade Captain shots with Juvy to loosen up the round. I played night and day throwing up a 50 on the front nine (two triples and a double) and a 40 on the back nine for a cool 90. The crazy thing about these courses is that they aren’t more difficult than courses in the states if you keep it in the fairway and on the green. But if you get in trouble, they just punish you. I had two bunkers on the day that I couldn’t get out of in the first shot. Juvy developed a stress fracture in his left hand from hacking out of the deep rough. And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard from my caddy, “oh you’re fucked.”
It makes me appreciate how good a low round is out here. The course conditions are some of the toughest I’ve ever played on, and the weather conditions are some of the craziest I’ve ever played in. Everyone is constantly on an emotional rollercoaster going from elation to near depression. That’s what makes the trip so amazing – it’s a true test for a golfer.
rtn
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