Before I met Scott, I knew the following about golf:
1. Tiger Woods: Because I don’t live under a rock
2. Arnold Palmer: Who doesn’t love iced tea and lemonade
3. Jack Nicklaus: He was such a good Joker 😉
4. Golf carts: Obsessed because they are like grown up Barbie vehicles
St A is buzzing this week as they are leading up to the The Open. Grandstands have been slowly rising over the Old Course for weeks. Everyone you speak to mentions it with either a huge smile or a look of panic. Scott is taking 4 days off. Yes, 4 days off to watch golf. This small town is a mecca for people who love golf or well, let’s be serious, for people who love to drink while pretending to watch golf.
The late Robin Williams explained golf and the Scots best.
He’s a bloody legend and exactly how I think they came up with it!
Unfortunately, for me I can’t escape it. Given my limited knowledge previously, now I know more than I ever cared to. I know who has won the last few major championships and what a major championship even is. I even know the name of the famous bridge that all the “greats” have been pictured on. The Swilcan Bridge, see below. Currently, it’s guarded by rope like a turtle’s eggs who need protection from the evil in the world.
I’m not telling you this to be impressed with my new skill set, this has all happened against my will. I’m a highly intelligent person and therefore when knowledge is beat into me I’m going to retain it.
Growing up in Florida, we were obsessed with college football. Every Saturday afternoon in the Fall you were either tailgating, attending the game, watching the game on TV or at a football party. There were no other acceptable activities. However, this only happened one day a week and for 3 months out of the year.
Golf is 4 DAYS LONG. 4 days of basically watching guys walk around and stopping from time to time to try to find a tiny ball. And this happens every single week! All year round!
And it doesn’t end with just watching it. Scott plays golf at least once a week and enters tournaments. I attended a St Andrews Golf Club medal ceremony the other day. Yea, I didn’t know those existed either. But it consists of walking into an old boys’ club where there are about two women in attendance. Apparently, most clubs around here just joined the 21st century in the last couple of years. I do my best to behave, because you all know how well that goes over with me. But Scott received a nice bronze medal for the tournament and any hope I would ever have of moving away from this hobby is crushed, because he’s actually pretty damn good.
It’s in his blood you know, I’m reminded of this constantly. Scott’s ancestor won The Open back in the 1800’s, Jack Simpson. Ugh and I was afraid of becoming a soccer mom. A glimpse into my future of golf tournaments haunt me.
Let’s just hope we can have a future Rory McIlroy one day and get something out of it. Otherwise, I’m doomed.
I’m working at The Open next week. Just a temp gig to make some quick cash and network a bit. I get to wear a uniform, which will probably consist of tucking a polo shirt into khakis. That’s going to go over well. Look forward to some pics, if I allow it.