The Birthplace of Golf

I can think of no more fitting course to start this blog off with. The Old Course at St. Andrews Links is the course every golfer should have at the top of their golf bucket list. The reason is obvious and unquestioned — golf was born here. When you play The Old Course you go back in time. Here golf is played in its most pure form; this is how golf was meant to be played. The experience I had at St. Andrews is hard to put into words, but here’s my swing at it…

My goal here is to provide as much information as possible for someone in my position in the future. Information on this whole process was hard to find out beforehand, and I mostly winged it. Hopefully, this will make the process easier for those like me who plan to make this pilgrimage in their lifetime.

The Journey

My trip to St. Andrews is something I will never forget. The journey began on 5 July in London, England. From London, it was over a seven hour car ride to Edinburgh, Scotland. However, this car ride took far more than the time indicated on Apple maps. I was driving with six other friends of mine, and none of us had ever driven in the U.K. The oddity of driving on the opposite side of the car, on the opposite side of the road slowed us down some on its own. It was nearly 2:45 a.m. Saturday morning before we arrived at our stop in Edinburgh. I was able to grab roughly 90 minutes of sleep before having to wake up to go to St. Andrews. Initially, I planned to take a train to St. Andrews directly from Edinburgh, but my Uber was late and I missed the time. So I ended up taking a bus that arrived nearly two hours later than I wanted. The bus arrived in St. Andrews around 8:45 a.m., and from there I caught a 3 minute taxi ride to The Old Pavilion at The Old Course. By this time I was exhausted. I was running on very little sleep for days, and I was sick enough to where I completely lost my voice. I can only imagine the looks people gave me on the bus and in the bus station. An American tourist, barely awake, lugging around golf clubs in awkward public places, and only able to ask for directions by whispering … I’m sure I made someone else’s day.

Getting on The Old Course

The journey to play The Old Course starts at The Old Pavilion. The Old Pavilion is basically the miniature onsite clubhouse for The Old Course. Here you check-in, pay, grab a snack, and join the wait-list to play as a single. Online, St. Andrews provides details as to the availability of their courses months in advance. However, from my experience looking online over the years, tee-times for The Old Course are routinely booked a year in advance. Thankfully, this is not the only way to play. If you are in the group of people who do not have the ability to know a precise schedule one year in advance, then you have two options.

First, the ballot. This is entered on St. Andrews website, and you must have at least two golfers in your party. Ballot results are drawn two days prior to the day of play at 4 p.m., and it is entirely luck of the draw.

Second, the singles wait-list. Singles at St. Andrews have no booking options. The only option for singles is to check online and make sure the course is open to public play on a certain day, and then show up to try and play. The day I arrived the queue for singles started the night before around midnight, and when I finally checked in just before 9:00 a.m. I was 61st on the waitlist. 61st on the waitlist for maybe 20 single’s slots … if even that many.

The Wait

I didn’t quite know what to expect when I arrived at St. Andrews that morning, but 61st on the waitlist was not the welcome I had hoped for. The gentleman in The Old Pavilion was kind, and very patient with my inability to speak. He asked for my name, my handicap (maximum handicap of 24 for males, however they never verified this when I signed up or paid. It may have been just an anomaly that day, but he took my word and didn’t ask for verification), and told me my chances to play today were slim, but to come back around 1 p.m. and check on my status then. Inside I was crushed. Months of anticipation, months of playing to develop a handicap, and the tiring journey up to St. Andrews, only to be told I likely wouldn’t play. I took it in stride (as best I could), and asked if I could putt around on the green, thinking that would be the closest I get to The Old Course on this pilgrimage.

Still, I made the most of my time. I took the on-site shuttle to their golf academy and hit some balls just to see how I was feeling. I struck the ball surprisingly well given my current sick and sleep-deprived state, which helped slightly with my current feeling of gloom. I then went to the nearby clubhouse of the Strathtyrum course (one of the 6 courses at St. Andrews Links) and ate a fantastic shaved turkey and ham sandwich, alongside a pot of hot mint tea in hopes of recovering my voice. It was here that I finally realized where I was at — I was in St. Andrews, Scotland. Hallowed golfing grounds. My experience began.

After lunch I made my way to the main pro-shop for The Old Course. I bought memorabilia for myself and family, and figured I’d try The Old Pavilion one last time just to see if I was lucky on the waitlist. I had already researched return busses, and was preparing mentally for a bus ride of shame back to Edinburgh.

When I stepped back in The Old Pavilion the gentleman at the desk instantly recognized me and came over to greet me. In a optimistic tone, he told me most of the people on the waitlist had long left, and that I was presently the only one on the waitlist there. If an opening arose, the time would go to me since no one else was around. It was 1 p.m. and this was just the morale boost I needed. I went and hit a few more putts on the green, then grabbed another glass of hot tea and took a seat on a bench overlooking the first tee-box. Elderly Scottish people struck up conversations with me, including a man and his white Labrador named Oliver. I chatted, drank cup after cup of hot mint tea, and waited …

The Old Course

It was now close to 3:30 p.m. and my optimism was beginning to fade. People higher on the waitlist than I returned and took open slots I was hoping to fill. The number of open times for singles was quickly diminishing, but I continued to stick around because of the gentleman inside who always seemed so optimistic about my chances of playing each time I asked. Finally, at 3:45 p.m., the news I’d waited for all day came. The 3:50 group had not yet checked in, but they still had to give them until the very last minute. To make this work, the 4:00 group was moved to 3:50, and right at 3:50 when the group failed to show I was able to pay and guarantee my time at 4:00 on The Old Course.

From here, everything happened extremely quickly and the next thing I knew I was on number 1 tee-box, on The Old Course, with driver in hand.

There are a few things I should mention at this point.

First, The Old Course is a long way from the driving range. Getting warm and then heading directly to the first tee is simply not an option.

Second, St. Andrews is public land and extremely friendly to townsfolk and tourists. To my surprise, there are trails around The Old Course that are publicly walked during regular play. Why does this matter? Because it means people will be watching you play. Public polling would lead you to believe that the general public’s number one fear is public speaking, and very surprisingly followed at number two by death. Clearly most of the general public are not golfers, otherwise death would drop down to number three.

Third, you need a caddie. When I paid just before my tee time, the gentleman asked if I wanted a caddie. Thinking I would be fine with just my range finder, and needing to save some money, I politely declined. Bad move.

The Game

Now standing on the number 1 tee-box, driver in hand (remember my bit about the caddie), with dozens and dozens of people standing by watching (including my parents via the live-stream camera on St. Andrews website), I addressed the golf ball. I can’t fully recall what was going through my exhausted and scrambled mind, but I know it was something to the extent of “Don’t miss the ball, Justin … just make contact.”

I made contact.

It was a solid strike — too solid — and it carried all the way down the hill and then ran out into the burn that runs directly in front of the first green. I should’ve taken note and noticed everyone else in my group had irons or hybrids, but I was too shell-shocked to think of anything else and was too cheap to get a caddie to correct me. Stepping off of number 1 tee was a feeling of relief, joy, satisfaction, and accomplishment that I can barely describe. It felt a bit like walking out of a law school final. I fished my ball out of the burn, and nearly got up and down for par. Bogey on the first. It was a solid start, given that my heart rate was still probably equivalent to what it would be in a full sprint.

I won’t recap my hole round, but I will highlight it briefly. I will also make an excuse. Since playing that day I’ve done the math, and in the 56 hours prior to my swing on the 1st tee-box I had slept a whopping 5 hours. Add that to the illness depriving me of a voice, and the fact that I was still functional was impressive.

I made lots of pars on the front, and a few on the back. I had back to back birdies on holes 5 & 6, but I also recorded a couple of bogeys as well. I also left several birdies one or two rolls short. I felt like I had the greens read decently all day. The shame was this … I had four holes that absolutely killed me. Three of those four holes were quadruple bogeys. A score that I honestly cannot even remember the last time I recorded. All three were the results of awful tee-shots, and a couple four-putts. The other hole that wasn’t a quad was a double, and this was created by one of the infamous St. Andrews pot bunkers. Basically a bad break. All in all, it was the best disappointing round I’ve ever played. Better rested (or with just 3 different swings) I like to think it could have been a great round.

It still was a great round, one of the best rounds of golf I’ve ever had. Not performance-wise, but the experience I had is rivaled by nothing.

Course in Review

Would I say this course lived up to the hype? Yes. Not necessarily because of the golf it offered, but because of the whole experience. The history, the course, the layout, the patrons walking all around you, The Open … St. Andrews provides an experience that I don’t think you can find anywhere else on this planet.

The course itself was still spectacular. However, it was not fully what I expected. As you learn with any place you’ve seen on television, reality is always different. The Old Course is really compact. There are 14 holes that share a green. This means there are 7 double greens (with two flags), and only 4 single greens (with one flag). Also, there is a shared fairway on holes 7 and 11, creating the only golf ‘intersection’ I’ve ever seen.

The course is also extremely firm. A shot landing in the middle of the fairway could run another 70 yards, in any direction. The greens were extremely firm too, and yardage to the front of the green was essential to know in order to get close to a pin. Caddies are also essential for first time players. Had the person I was playing with on the back tees in my group not had a caddie I could bum target-lines off of, I would have been totally lost.

The only thing I didn’t experience that day was high wind. At most, we had a 15 mph wind that day. I was told routinely it is a 2-3 club wind, so we were extremely fortunate to play when we did.

Lastly, the tee-shot on 17 was terrifying. Aiming at the corner of an occupied hotel with an elevated restaurant patio on it creates slight apprehension. This tee shot was easily the most frightening shot I’ve ever hit. It also was one of those four disaster holes I mentioned earlier.

Attack Seagulls — One thing I’ve failed to mention so far is the number of seagulls that were flying around the St. Andrews Links grounds. They are big, they are mean, and they make no effort to hide how brazenly they will pursue your food. As I sat waiting for my tee-time I saw several instances where seagulls would actually take food directly out of a person’s hands. Watch your food when you’re outside, and be prepared to fight for it. You have been warned.

Takeaway

There are three main thoughts I’ve had since I played St. Andrews.

1 — Give it a shot. Most of this journey happened with little preparation and limited knowledge of what to expect. All I knew was this: I want to play The Old Course. So I tried, and I did. Could it easily have not worked out? Yes. Could I have been 1 minute later and missed the last bus out and been stuck in St. Andrews for a night with nowhere to stay? Yes. Would either of these things have ruined my trip? Only if I let them. An experience is what you make of it. If plans change, then you adapt and overcome. You’ll never know until you finally decide to go, and you never know when it may be your only chance to go. Just go.

2 — Live in the moment. Too often when I’m waiting for something I find myself living in my smartphone, and most of the time I’m not even doing anything on it. With the exception of FaceTime calls back home to show some scenery, and to make sure I was picking out the proper golf shirts, I wasn’t on my phone. I lived in the moment. I experienced St. Andrews. I had conversations with people I will never see again, but yet I’ll look back on for a lifetime. I experienced my moment at St. Andrews.

3 — Make a memory. Often I think people primarily associate memories with photos. Too often I think people only worry about the photo. This is a product of the social media-driven society we live in. Should you take photos? Yes, obviously. Should you plan your entire time around a photo, and have your whole experience be taking that photo? Absolutely not. Slow down, stand still, and experience the place that you’re in. Take mental photos and write down your thoughts. I spent an entire day slowing down and experiencing my memory. That’s more precious to me than any photo ever could be.

The Last Swing

I’ll leave with this … the last swing I took during the best round of my life, on one of the best days of my life. Until the second pilgrimage.