WHIMSICALITIES OF THE LINKS

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 73, 17 June 1927, Page 10

WHIMSICALITIES OF THE LINKS

HOLING OUT INTO AN INK-POT WEIRD AND FRIVOLOUS GAMES NO game lends itself more to the bizarre and to the whimsicalities of the sportsman than does golf. The possibilities for adventure, for the accomplishment of something unique are so infinite that one can scarcely wonder at the number and. variety of freak matches. Not all have been contested on the links; in fact, some of the more weird and more amusing have been decided on territory far removed from the golf course.

I once refereed a match between two well-known golfers where the teeingground was the pavement outside Swan and Edgar’s in Piccadily Circus, and the green the space above the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral, writes George YV. Greenwood in the “Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News.” The player who reached the ‘green” in the fewest number of strokes was to pocket the stakes, while the loser had also the privilege of paying for the dinners on the following night of those immediately interested. DODGING POLICEMEN The match started at midnight, the route being down Lower Regent Street, along Cockspur Street, down the Strand and Fleet Street, and up Ludgate Hill. The most formidable hazards were the policemen and the shop windows. These, however, were safely negotiated, and everything pointed to an exciting finish, when, unfortunately, the match came to an abrupt end in Ludgate Circus, where onfe of the players holed out in a newspaper cart which made off with the bail, presumably to one of the northern termini. The other fellow finished the course, “holing-out” in something just under the century, his greatest difficulty being in lofting the ball over the steps leading to the cathedral. Two of my friends conceived the brilliant notion one Christmas morning of cont€‘Sting a match from the verandah of the clubhouse to my front garden. A. good part of the golf course had to be crossed, then a ploughed field, a roadway full of potholes, a railway line, and, finally, a street. Each player was accompanied by a marker furnished with paper and pencil to jot down the strokes as they were taken. It was a stipulation that at any time and in any circumstances a player could pick up, drop, and lose a shot. This provision, I might add, was frequently taken advantage of, especially when the ball tried to hide itself under metals of the railway, or in the deep potholes of the by-path. This match was won by a daring piece of work on the part of one of the players.

He came to a spot where a house directly intervened between him and my front garden. He calculated that a full and we.-directed mashie shot over the chimney-pots would land not far from my front door. As a matter of fact, the ball dropped plump into the middle of u small hollj’ bush almost at the exact spot which he had in mind, {i© won by a hatful of strokes. The other man, not so daring, decided to go round, got into trouble in a chicken run, and eventualy collided violently with a tethered goat. Altogether, it was an exhiliarating business. A “SPOOF” MATCH One of the most notorious freak matches ever engineered was that in which a.n attempt was made to “spoof” my friend, Harold Hilton. He certainly was spoofed, but not quite to the extent that some people tried to make out. Some years ago when Mr. Hilton was at the zenith of his fame he was asked to play a match against a certain Norwegian profeseor, who had made a deep, scientific study of the game with the most wonderful results. It was even suggested that the professor had discovered some new method which even the great Mr. Hilton would be glad to investigate. So Mr. Hilton, ever on the lookout for genius, agreed to play the unknown professor. The match, which took place on the West Middlesex course, was witnessed by a company of experts and others anxious to see the duel between the English champion and the “mystery” player from Norway. A curious sight met Hilton when he stepped on to the first tee. There was a man in spectacles, with a black beard, and a hat concealed a good portion of his features. Altogether a curious sight, not at all like a golfer; rather did he look the part of the professor of fiction steeped in abstruse subjects. It was mentioned to Hilton that as the professor did not know a word of English it was useless endeavouring to open up conversation. Attempts in this direction were invariably met; by grunts and a shake of the head. The “professor’s” golf was in the nature of revelation. His long game was very powerful, and the shots up to the green were struck with excellent judgment, both as to Sight and to distance.

It was not long, however, before Hilton scented the spoof, and at a convenient moment he addressed the “professor” in these terr.s “How long is it since Ralph Smith toox to wearing spectacles and a beard?” Ralph Smith was the name of the professional attached to the West Middlesex Club, a man with so distinctive a style that lew could be deceived, especially so experienced a golfer as Hilton. After much useless grunting Smith was compe,1 I Jf d £L OWn up to the deception. The Edinburgh Burgess was. indeed a quaint body, for we read *in a minute j’ that the treasurer be t - Pay the responsible Price of a pair of shoes, lor tills year only on account of the late increase of members, which has SSklJS?®** a -€? ea T deal of additional Walkmg to The responsible

officer in question was a young man whose duties were to call on each mem ber every Saturday morning to take the names of those who proposed diniiu: with the society, to act as waiter nr dinner, to attend as a caddie, "and. quarterly, to deliver message cardstc the members. For these services the officer was provided with a suit of clothes “to be worn by him on the Saturdays and Sundays only, and is to be paid 6s a quarter.” To the suit and the salary was added, after much consideration, the pair of boots! PUTTING ON TO PORTER’S STAND I may mention that a queer adventure took place some little time ago in one of the mammoth American hotels, where to use the vernacular, ' two lads of the village" conceived the bright idea of starting a match from the landing of the top storey and holing-out in the inkpot on the'halb * porter’s desk. Now, the well of an inkpot perched on a fairly high deal; is not an easy* target, but it ir dul * authenticated that one of the participants in this midnight folly holed out with a phenomenal shot that, first of

all, bounced off a wall, alighted on a blotting-pad, and then bumped sweetly into the mouth of the ink-well. I have a shrewd suspicion that th* persons who engineered the spoof match in which Harold Hilton was concerned and which I related above, were responsible for the match that Duncan and Ray were lured into. Three years ago at Littlehampton, the artist, Harry Rountree, who is a scratch golfer, undertook to play the better ball of the two professionals on the condition that he received an allowance of 150 yardi to use as he liked during the course of the round. On the surface the match appeared to be a “good thing" for Duncan and Ray r .. Neither of them, however, had taken the trouble to visualise what the handicap really meant, but they were not long in finding that out. For example, at one of the short holes Duncan had a two, whereupon Rountree, who was 25 yards from the pin, deducted this distance from his handicap, and won the hole in one! Only on rare occasions did he hole out, for all putts of from six yards downward he took as a matter of course. In the end he won by the big margin of six and five, having used only’ 50 yards two feet of his yardage allowance. On analysing the match afterwards Ray and Duncan declared that if they were conceded a handicap of one yard a round they would capture every championship in the world. And well they might, for every putt that stopped nn i inch or so from the hole would be declared in, and every ball that was not lying well would he iced up half an inch or so away. It can be imagined what an enormous difference such a concession would make to the round ©t a first-class golfer. That great sportsman, the late lieutenant Freddie Tait, was concerned in many freak matches and curious wagers. On one occasion for a substantia 1 stake he undertook to play a gutta ball in 40 teed shots * ron \. St. George’s clubhouse, Sandwich, to the Deal clubhouse, where it wan to be considered that he had holed out by striking any part of the structure. In a straight line the distance is three miles, but owing to formidable natunij obstacles such as the boundary and -®" tervemng land between the two l»nW it is not possible to take the shortest route. Lieutenant Tait “holed out with his 32nd shot, which gave an average for each stroke of 165 yards, a wonderful performance considering tne nature of the ball and the many pitiaLS along the route. MASH IE SHOT INTO THE KITCHEN There was rather an amusing conclusion to the business, for Lieutenant Tail’s last shot was struck with suc» unerring aim and vigour that the Baa crashed through one of the window of the Deal clubhouse, occasioning ■ casualty among the kitchen staff. of the money that Lieutenant Tait w.n over the venture was disbursed ” , way of compensation to the m aidj* question. This was only one of many exploits of this very g al,a " soldier and golfer. On another occa* sion he wagered that he would drive. ball from the tower of Edinburg Castle over the railway into Frine® Street. It is on record that Tait. exuberant but extremely poweri hitter, won his bet. 'jl One of the most remarkable cr°- * country matches ever conceived P>o place in South Wales, in the montn«» December, 1920. For a wager RuP”; Phillips and Raymond Thomas. taam“ bers of the Radyr Golf Club, undertw to play from the first tee at the last hole in Southerndown. a c ® ur ?l overlooking the Bristol Channel. 1,000 strokes. Measured in a straig line the distance was 15£ mil®®* owing to intervening swamps. ravines, streams, ploughed fields, * other formidable obstacles it was possible to follow the course that a w would have taken. So, by the aia ordnance maps they sketched a cuitous and much easier path, co ’ ing a total distance of 20 miles, vo pletion of the course, owing to j and varied adventures en route, occ pied three days. On the first was restricted to two hours bad light. On the second day and Thomas started at 8 except for an interval for went on until 4.3* p.m. They were again on the third day at 8 a.ro*. holed out at 1.30 p.rn. on the las* JLu at Southerndown in their 608th Str® thus winning the bet with a lar s®. was gin to spare. The distance covered 36,000 yards, giving an averageabout 59 yards a shot. This . “longest hole” ever played in gou> - one which for variety of lie ana could scarcely be equalled. A