Life throws up a few unexpected surprises now and again and that was the case this past week.  I received a call asking me to go over to my home town of Portstewart to do a little bit of filming for a Northern Ireland Tourist Board documentary that will be coming out next spring.  Obviously there are tons of attractions that hook in the visitors to Norn Iron but golf is, predictably, a big part of it all and the brief included a retrospective look at the Open Championship.

As I was winging my way on my orange-and-white-liveried flight from Liverpool into Belfast I was thanking my lucky stars that everything was up to time.  I was on a tight schedule to pick up a hire car and get down to Portstewart strand where the rest of the crew would be waiting for me.  Hold on, I thought, as I looked out the window and saw we were coming in to land at Aldergrove – I’ve not brought my driving licence with me.  I’d changed handbags, as you do, and my licence was residing in my bag at home.  So, after four decades of being a seasoned traveller here was a real rookie error.  I knew a passport wouldn’t cut it and that, essentially, no driving license meant no hire car.

So, in a nanosecond, an easy, enjoyable trip suddenly acquired high stress levels because of my own oversight.  I hot-footed it to the car hire desk and was more than a little gratified to discover that one phone call to the DVLA would sort it all out and I was assured that “this happens every single day”.  Phew!

As I waited for everything to be processed I had time to cast my eye around the airport.  On my last visit in April I had grumbled profusely about the state of the place, so it behoves me now to say how pleasantly surprised I was to see it spruced up, a lot cleaner and a great deal more welcoming.  It obviously had nothing to do with me but a hearty well done to all concerned.

It was more than a little strange for me to find myself an hour later down on the beach at Portstewart in Harry’s Shack, one of a growing band of eating establishments acquiring a sound reputation.  The last time I’d stood in that building was more than fifty years ago and Mum and Dad were buying me a bucket and spade, a plastic windmill and a 99 cone.  If only they could see it now!  A bustling, beach bistro reminiscent of the Riviera with the sun making an appearance and periodically splitting the skies.  What a great way to spend a Monday!

My colleagues for this round table discussion were producer and presenter Graham Little, of NPE Media Ltd; Wendy Gallagher of Causeway Coast Foodie Tours; and long-time friend, fount of knowledge of all things golf and esteemed broadcaster,Shane O’Donoghue.  Harry’s Shack served us a delicious lunch – we all chose different seafood dishes – and the weather played ball as regards the filming.  It was great food and great company and gratifying to learn of the positive drive and enthusiasm being harnessed in order to continue bringing visitors in to this wee corner of the world.  It’s nice to be in the news for the right reasons after so many decades of making the news headlines for the wrong ones.

The following day I had the opportunity for a quick catch-up with Michael Moss, former secretary manager of Portstewart Golf Club, now retired and masquerading off a 13 handicap when he was off four a blink of an eye ago.  He joined forces a couple of years ago with Peter and Jackie Alliss in their continued quest to raise funding in order to present wheelchairs to disabled children during the Open Championship.  This year there were three proud recipients and this will have been life-changing for them all.  Congrats to Peter and Jackie for such a sustained, long-term, personal effort.

On my way back to the airport at the end of my whirlwind trip I was interested to see some yellow AA signs appertaining to the Open still in place.  There weren’t many, just a few, but these were superseded by a plethora of new yellow AA signs for this week’s ISPS Handa World Invitational taking place at Galgorm Castle and Massereene Golf Clubs and backed by Niall Horan’s Modest! Golf management company.  This event sees men and women competing on the two courses over four days for equal prize funds.  It’s impressive to realise that the success of the Open a mere four to five weeks ago does not mean it’s time to rest on our laurels.  There’s much to be proud of on this island of ours.

A final postscript, which I know many of you will enjoy – a picture of my latest Irish discovery.

Unfortunately, it can only be bought in Ireland and I was unable to bring any home as I was travelling with hand luggage only.  Next time……

 

There’s been a lot going on this past week in the golf world but my eyes were drawn to one of my favourite places, Woburn, despite the fact I didn’t attend the AIG Women’s British Open this year.  Patricia was there to capture the atmosphere and witness the stunning golf at first hand but it was more than a little interesting to watch on TV, be drawn in, and yes, captivated, by the 20-year old winner, Hinako Shibuno of Japan.

It takes some force of personality to come through the screen and grab you, converting you into a fan after watching only a handful of holes but that’s precisely what Shibuno did – rather as Seve did when he first played in the Open back in 1976 at Royal Birkdale.

Shibuno could teach some of the players a thing or two – and I don’t mean just with her golf game.  I think certain players (men and women) forget that as well as being professional athletes they are also entertainers and owe it to the thousands at the venue, as well as the millions watching on telly, to make it a pleasurable experience to watch them.  I’m tired of hearing that the players who go round with a sullen look and depressing demeanour are “great fun” and “very witty” in private.  I don’t care what they’re like in private – I want to enjoy watching these great practitioners of their art and appreciate their skills.

They don’t need to be laughing and joking all the way round – just don’t look like a wet weekend and have the commentators explain their mien away as being due to being introverted.  It’s a hard commercial world out there and golf doesn’t want to lose any of its fans because it’s become a difficult, not to mention slow, watch.  So, for more than one reason, Woburn produced a great winner.

It was exciting to have three English players, defending champion Georgia Hall, local favourite Charley Hull and Cheshire’s dynamic Bronte Law in touch going in to the final round.  Alas, the glorious prospect of a second consecutive home winner slipped away early on and we still only have three home-grown victors since the Women’s British Open became a major back in 2001.  Two of those winners, the aforementioned Georgia Hall and Catriona Matthew, who won in 2009, have received an MBE, Hall in the Queen’s Birthday Honours list of 2018 and Matthew in the New Year’s Honours list of 2010.

These two former Women’s British Open champions join three other female British golfers to be recognised for services to golf by the Queen – Dame Laura Davies, Alison Nicholas (MBE) and Dale Reid (OBE).  Let me state here and now that my own feeling is that you shouldn’t receive an honour for simply doing your job well and for which you are handsomely recompensed anyway.  Be that as it may, can someone please tell me why Karen Stupples, winner of the 2004 Women’s British Open with a commanding performance at Sunningdale, is not on this list?

I suspect that living in the United States means that Karen suffers from “out of sight, out of mind” syndrome but that doesn’t cut it.  In the past I’ve been involved in supporting several applications to the Honours Office and normally a governing body is instrumental in putting together a portfolio of support for the candidate – all very hush-hush as the candidate never knows anything about it in the event of the application being unsuccessful.  Perhaps an application was made for Karen and it was unsuccessful?

Hmm, I doubt it, but if it was – it’s time to do it again, only better.  Come on England Golf – why don’t you take the lead to ensure this glaring oversight is corrected?  You currently spend huge amounts of energy and funding to support players and enable them to achieve their goals – and there’s no higher goal than a major title.  A couple of decades ago Karen had to fight and scrap for every last penny just to be able to go and play.  And, against all the odds, she made it.  She’s a perfect role model for today’s often pampered youngsters.

Please, please prove to us all that you don’t suffer from lamentably short memories.  Stupples, the pride of Kent, deserves a gong if anyone does and you can now add services to broadcasting to her list of achievements.

 

 

 

I’m still hoarse, I’m still tired, I’m still proud, I’m still so, so happy!  What a week!  You could throw a thesaurus of hyperbole at it and it still wouldn’t do it justice.  An Open in Ireland;  an Open at Portrush; an Irish winner.  It’s the stuff of dreams.  It would be rejected as a film script as being too far-fetched, too perfect.  Yet it happened and we all lived it, breathed it and, ultimately, celebrated it.  God help Royal St George’s.  Just how do you follow that?

My decision to eschew all work was one of my better moments.  This was not an Open to be inside the ropes.  It needed to be experienced in the raw, unshackled by responsibility and lack of bias, surrounded by tens of thousands of fervent, nervous, Irishmen and women all united in providing support for the one man Ryder Cup team that was Shane Lowry.  And we prevailed.  And Shane prevailed.  And the party is continuing.

The week kicked off for nearly every member of our house party with a 6.35am appointment at the 1st tee on Thursday to see Darren Clarke, winner of this championship in 2011, hit the opening tee shot.  With his perfect sense of occasion Darren, a fellow member of the host club, birdied the opening hole and I took a photo of him on the 2nd tee so I could have a picture of an Irishman leading an Open in Ireland.  Little did I know what would unfold over the next few days.  I walked every step of that first round with Darren while he crafted his even par 71 and Shane was already at work fashioning a very solid 67, flashing a warning shot across the bows of those who cared to notice.  By day’s end he had tucked himself in behind the leader, the glacial JB Holmes, who had signed for a 66.

It was at this point, however, that the jungle drums across the course were beating out the dire news that favourite Rory McIlroy had knocked his opening tee shot OB and started with a calamitous 8.  This was not in the script for the man who, as a 16-year old, had shot a course record 61 round the Dunluce course.  As he always does, Rory fought back, but a lack of focus late in the day resulted in a ragged finish and a demoralising 79.  The unfettered brilliance of a Friday 65 was not enough for Rory to escape the executioner’s axe and we saw deep into his soul in his honest and emotional interviews afterwards with various TV, radio and news outlets.  Wanting so much to do so well in front of his home crowds ultimately swamped him.  But he’ll work it out and he’ll be back.

Friday also saw the departure of three more of the six-strong Irish contingent.  The Amateur Champion, James Sugrue from Mallow in County Cork, was one too many despite two steady offerings of 71, 73.  Perhaps his dreams will be filled with that triple bogey 7 he took on the 14th.  So near, yet so far.

Padraig Harrington, winner of the Claret Jug in 2007 and 2008 and the man responsible for making us all believe the Irish could win majors, shot 75, 70 to be two adrift and, heartbreakingly, Darren took 7 up the last when a 5 would have been good enough for him to play the weekend.  He departed the 18th green with no words and moist eyes.  Golf does that to you.

Graeme McDowell was full of emotion as well when he reached the last green on Friday, a second round 70 securing him a tee time the following day on the course he grew up on and which his younger brother, Gary, tends as part of Graeme Beatt’s magnificent ground staff.  If you are Irish and a sports lover you are well accustomed to roller-coaster rides in support of your countrymen and women across local, national and global stages, but this was only Friday, for goodness sake, and I was already feeling more than a little wrung out.

Almost unnoticed Shane had recorded another 67 and when we wiped our eyes, sniffing loudly and pretending we all seemed to have wretched summer colds, there was an Irishman at the top of the leaderboard.  Come ON, Shane-O!

Saturday was the day that the Portrush links put on its best bib and tucker with sunny skies and sublime views every which way you turned.  It was picture postcard perfect – and so was Shane’s golf.  Ten pars and eight birdies added up to a sensational 63, a new course record which included an inward nine of 30 which blew away the opposition.  The result – a four-shot lead.  Much was made of the fact that Shane had “blown” a similar lead in the US Open in 2016 at Oakmont but this wasn’t remotely similar.  For starters, he teed off early on that Sunday morning in Oakmont in order to finish off his third round.  He then left the course for a few hours before coming back for the last round – no time to come down from the high of snatching the lead or the huge adrenalin rush of that great finish to his third round.  This time he drank in the universal plaudits on Saturday evening, took stock, relaxed and then had time to turn his mind to what lay ahead and prepare himself for the greatest day of his life.

And so to Sunday.  G-Mac tacked a closing 77 on to Saturday’s 68 to finish on +4 and tied 57th and took himself off to the players’ lounge to watch his friend and organise the victory party.

The forecast was vile and it proved to be accurate but none of us cared, convinced our man could handle the conditions better than anyone.  Sure hadn’t he won the Irish Open as an amateur a decade previously in weather you wouldn’t put a cat out in?  That faith was put to the test very early on when Shane had played four shots and was still eight feet shy of the first hole.  That’s when I learned that the simultaneous crossing of fingers, holding of breath and praying really does work when it’s multiplied by tens of thousands.  The bogey putt was safely holed and his lead was never really threatened again.  With the wind howling and the rain lashing the multi-coloured river of spectators flowed in and around the course, no one leaving, no one going in to the shelter of the tented village.  The stands remained full and the number of brollies fighting the wind diminished as the litter bins filled to overflowing with their tattered remains.  It was glorious.  We felt we were all in this together.  The predominant accents were Irish – from every corner of the island – no surprise really when you consider the home fans were quickest off the mark when the tickets went on sale.

And, finally, the 18th, and we surged up the fairway after our hero had sent his second sailing towards the green.  The marshals were valiant – they had allowed us on the fairways short of the greens on the back nine so more people could get a decent view – but they had no chance on the last.  Joyous, full-throated roars and unrestrained celebrations were unleashed and everywhere you looked arms were raised aloft as we all revelled in the moment of watching history in the making..  The giant, horseshoe stand was literally jumping as Shane tapped in.  I’m not sure he ever did pick his ball out of the hole.

The man from Clara, Co Offaly, had carried all our hopes and he didn’t disappoint.  He says we carried him, too, and we didn’t disappoint either.

The party began.  The party continues.

The unforgettable week ended with seven unforgettable words.  Shane Lowry, Champion Golfer of the Year.