There’s been an awful lot going on recently in the world of golf – so much so that it’s difficult to know where to start this week’s musings.

Let’s start with Mel Reid, one of England’s best female golfers, who relocated recently from Derby to Florida in a bid to continue her quest to be the best she can be.  Vivacious, hard-working and veteran of three Solheim Cup matches, Mel is not afraid to speak her mind and that is exactly what she did in an interview with the Independent’s Tom Kershaw.  When asked about inequality in golf her response was “I think it’s getting worse.”

She then cited an incident from July 2018 when former world No 1 Inbee Park, who’s won seven major championships and an Olympic gold medal, called up a manufacturer to request a replacement 3-wood.  The response?  “We don’t support women’s golf.”

That’s beyond shocking.

Mel chose not to name and shame the company, probably fearing jeopardising any deals some of the women players may have managed to negotiate with the big multi-nationals.  That’s a real pity.  This company should be named and shamed and when I replace my aging set of clubs this year I certainly do not wish to inadvertently support a company that could utter such a crass statement.  When I find out the culprit, I shall certainly name them in this blog; and if that doesn’t terrify them, it should…….!!

I have felt for a while that the equality movement in golf is gathering pace from the ground up but that from the top down it is found woefully wanting.  Gary Player, ever creative and provocative, has suggested in an interview with the Ladies’ European Tour that he would like to see the male professionals donate “a lousy 1%” of their winnings to women’s golf for the general good health of the game.

Nice idea, Gary, but can you really see it happening?  Mind you, that would mean that Adam Scott and Justin Rose, having just surpassed the $50 million dollar mark in their PGATOUR earnings alone, would jointly contribute $1 million to the women’s game.  Hmmm, hope this latest Player idea doesn’t take decades to catch on like his fitness craziness did.  But then, Gary always was ahead of his time.

We are now into February and the new FFS Rules of Golf (faster, fairer, simpler, of course) are in the news again.  Last week Haotong Li of China was penalised two shots because his caddy was deemed to have been standing behind him as he began to line up his putt on the final green.  He tumbled down the leaderboard to 12th spot.  This week Denny McCarthy was penalised in Phoenix under the same rule but the penalty was rescinded after endless scrutiny of the video action by officials.  I thought that INTENT was a big thing in this game of ours?  In neither case was there the slightest intent to gain an advantage.  Slightly ironic, isn’t it that a rule change designed predominantly to stop female pros from using their caddies to help their alignment has caused mayhem on the men’s tours and slowed play down even further as a result?  The USGA and R&A have acknowledged the flaws in the interpretation and implementation of the rule and have been swift to issue further clarification.  I do wonder, however, just how long they will turn a blind eye to the pace of play rules – or does it not count when Bryson DeChambeau takes well over a minute on three different shots when coming down the stretch to win in Dubai?

On a final note, huge congratulations to a longtime friend of mine, Marta Figueras Dotti, about whom I have penned a few words on other occasions.  Marta, from Madrid, is the chairman of the Ladies’ European Tour and has been honoured with the gold medal by the Madrid Golf Association as they celebrate their 50th year.  At the celebration dinner she was introduced to the great and the good of golf in Spain as “the first Spanish player to compete on the Ladies European Tour and the LPGA, with victories on both tours, who led and inspired all the Spanish players that are now in competition and who is now chariman of the Ladies European Tour.”  In reality, to list Marta’s achievements in the global game would take an entire blog of its own but her influence and inspiration have touched many and this honour is thoroughly deserved.

It also means that we can share a lovely, celebratory bottle of Rioja when next we meet.

 

 

These old handbooks from the early days of the Ladies’ European Tour evoke so many memories, most of them overwhelmingly good, and I’m happy to say I’m still in touch with lots of the folk chronicled within their covers.

I had an email earlier this week from one such player who was on tour with me back in the dim, distant past.  Jo Rumsey, from Southend-on-Sea, was one of a band of players who travelled around Europe, from tournament to tournament, in a caravan, sharing with Angie Bell, the multi-talented solver of all problems, who caddied for me for several years.  Others eschewing the slightly dodgy accommodation we were faced with in those days included Karyn Dallas, now a revered coach in Scotland, and her husband, and South Africa’s own Alison Sheard, a former winner of the Women’s British Open.  Those of us who stayed in an assortment of hotels and guest houses rather uninspiringly called these fellow travellers of ours the Caravan Club, or CC for short.

But I digress.  Rumsey, as we call her, had just enjoyed a game of golf in New Zealand with Aine McCoy, from Ballycastle, who’d grown up playing with Patricia and me and the hordes of other juniors nurtured by Aine’s mother Nora and the formidable group of organisers at Royal Portrush.  (Have I mentioned that Portrush will be hosting the Open this year…….??!!!)  Anyway, it served as a lovely reminder of how the inter-connecting strands of golf reach out and join people who have never previously met.  It’s one of the things I love about our game.

Rumsey finished her email with a heartfelt, “Terribly sad news about Debbie Dowling.”

This is the news that has rocked the golfing world of a certain era.  Patricia asked me last week if I would write about Debbie but I was too upset and couldn’t bring myself to do it.  It’s hard to come to terms with a friend dying from a massive bleed on the brain at the age of 57.  It matters not a jot that we hadn’t seen each other for 20-plus years.  We shared a very special couple of decades or more in the close world of amateur golf and then professional sorties in the early days of the Ladies’ European Tour.

I’m not hot on the detail but Debbie won at least six times in Europe and certainly recorded a minimum of a couple of victories out in Asia.  This is pretty remarkable stuff for an incredibly shy person, who never, ever, ever wanted to be the centre of attention.  I read a post on Facebook from Vanessa Marvin, another friend from that era, who told the story of Debbie lining her up to do her victory speeches in case she won!

I wonder if Debbie ever knew she was preceding the great Annika Sorenstam, who used to throw winning Swedish squad training tournaments in order to avoid the dreaded victory speech.  Once coach Pia Nilsson clocked this she made the top two, and sometimes three, speak, so Annika gave up that trick.   She was too talented to avoid a podium finish altogether so decided she might as well win if she was going to have to speak anyway.

Debbie, also, was too talented to avoid winning but she never did grow to enjoy the victory speeches.  She did come into her own, however, in the victory celebrations amongst her friends, who numbered players and caddies equally.  She was such a talented player, never quite regarding her own game as highly as her peers did.  She was funny, generous and very, very kind in her usual, understated and self-effacing way and would probably be amazed at the outpouring of grief at the news of her death.

She was also the fastest player I’ve ever played with.  We used to call her Debbie ‘Whoosh’ Dowling, which then became shortened to Debbie Whoosh.  This is because she rarely gave the starter on the first tee time to get her full name out.  The “whoosh” represented her contact with the ball and “Dowling” would be voiced only after the ball was well on its way down the first fairway.  Even though the starters became familiar with her routine she nearly always beat them to the ball, so to speak.

So, for me, Debbie was the first significant “Whoosh/Swoosh” in the game – long before a well-known brand, much reviled by Patricia.  In the mid-1990s this company offered Laura Davies, still in her pomp, a derisory $2500 to wear their shoes.  Bearing in mind they had just paid one Tiger Woods around $40 million, Patricia asked was Laura’s offer per shoe, per round.  We all know the answer to that and not a single article from that particular brand has ever been or will ever be purchased by Mrs Patricia Davies.  There’s solidarity with a namesake for you!

When looking forward to the future does sometimes seem gloomy after a loss, it can help to look back and reminisce and cherish the good times.  But, looking forward in general golfing terms, it’d be great if today’s players would take a leaf out of Debbie’s book re pace of play.  If only Bryson ‘I’ve not got enough info yet’ DeChambeau were a little more like our pal Debbie Whoosh, it would inject the game with a little more vitality and spark – watchwords for Debbie herself.

 

In golfing terms it’s been a good week for the Irish – a very good week indeed.

Ever since I sent a full glass of red wine spinning towards Shane Lowry ten years ago at a European Tour dinner, covering his previously immaculate white dinner shirt in a growing pink stain, I’ve counted him as one of my favourites.  His equable handling of the whole incident, without the merest flicker of annoyance, endeared him to me right there and then.  So, I was thrilled to see him celebrate victory in the Abu Dhabi HSBC Championship, the first of this year’s Rolex series of tournaments.

Shane was that rare beast, a wire-to-wire winner, opening with a scintillating 62 and refusing to be deflected from his goal even after falling four adrift of Richard Sterne with a mere seven holes to play.  The confidence and natural buoyancy he possesses were washed away after the 2016 US Open where he failed to capitalise on a four-shot lead going into the final round.  Now they’ve come rushing back in full force with this victory.  With a cheque for more than a million Euros in his back pocket and a leap of 34 places in the world rankings to 41st, Shane has all but assured his appearances in the year’s majors and World Golf Championship events.  That’s a significant move after losing his PGA Tour card a few weeks back.

He and his coach, Neil Manchip, have worked their way out of a miserable 30-month spell and this win will long be remembered for the remarkable ELEVEN birdie 2s Lowry recorded at the sixteen par 3s he tackled over the week.  My outstanding memory of the tournament, however, will be his tee shot and 3-wood to the final hole, setting up that winning birdie.  Apart from the flawless execution of both shots it is everything that had preceded it for those two and a half long years that makes those shots so special.  Cometh the hour, cometh the man and, when he needed it, Shane conjured up the mental fortitude to prove to himself once and for all that he does possess that raft of elusive qualities which means you can win at the very highest level.

There is no reason why he can’t and won’t join that wonderful band of Irish major champions.  And, now, I think he believes that too.

Many years ago that most gritty and blunt of the leading coaches in the game, Pete Cowen, was coaching some promising Irish players.  When asked was there anyone, apart from McIlroy, showing any great talent, Pete gestured at Lowry.  “The fat one with the glasses.  He can play a bit.”  Some years later, after he’d won the Portuguese Open in 2012, Shane sent Cowen a message:  “Not bad for a fat boy in glasses.”

Seismic changes are afoot in the governance of the sport in Ireland.  The two oldest amateur governing bodies in world golf, the Golfing Union of Ireland (GUI) and the Irish Ladies’ Golf Union (ILGU) held an historic vote last Saturday asking for support from the clubs for the creation of a new body, Golf Ireland.  The months preceding the vote were filled with a plethora of meetings and roadshows up and down the country, educating and informing the clubs of the pros and cons and the aims and ambitions of the new body.  Two separate votes took place, the ILGU requiring 75% to trigger a constitutional change and the GUI needing only two thirds of the vote.

It was a nervy wait for the results, but it needn’t have been – the intensive homework done and the stellar communication conducted by both sides resulted in a very clear mandate from the clubs, 100%  in favour at the women’s meeting and 94% at the men’s.  [That’s the way to conduct a referendum! – ed]  A two-year transition period now commences and the actual birthday of Golf Ireland is scheduled for 1st January 2021.  It can only be good for the game, surely.

The two boards issued a joint statement:  “The result today indicates that members of both Unions are in support of creating a new organisation which will be built around promoting core principles of equality, diversity, inclusion and excellence.”

In the twilight of its existence the ILGU saw fit to honour two outstanding women for their longstanding and dedicated work for women’s golf throughout the land.  Both Roma English of Larne and Elaine Bradshaw of Clontarf and Kilkenny and an erstwhile Irish captain of mine, have been awarded Honorary Life Membership of the ILGU.  No two deserve this accolade more and it is a worthy recognition of all they have both brought to the game.  Congrats to you both!

Unbelievably, there was still more to come for Irish golf fans this week.  Step forward 21-year old Conor Purcell of Malahide, the first Irish winner of the Australian Amateur Championship in its 125-year history.  A Walker Cup hopeful, Purcell left college in the US to concentrate on full-time amateur golf this season and, ironically, this victory will bring him the opportunity of teeing it up in a couple of professional events over the course of this year.  The rollercoaster 36-hole final against Aussie Nathan Barbieri yielded 17 birdies between the pair and a nerve-jangling tie hole which the Irishman won with a solid par.

Thanks to the delights of Facebook Live, Conor’s parents Joey (long-time professional at Portmarnock) and Mary were able to watch the trophy presentation from their home in Ireland.  With brother Gary, a tennis professional based Down Under, on the bag it was a real family affair, albeit they were separated from each other by thousands of miles.

It would appear that the future of Irish golf is in good hands on all fronts and once again this small island is teaching us all how it is possible to punch above your weight time and time again.

 

 

 

 

I was at a funeral in Dublin on Monday, to say goodbye to Colm Smith, who was the very best of friends.  Maureen and I first met Colm many years ago when we were playing junior golf and he was working for the Irish Independent, in the far-off days when papers covered the full gamut of golf, big and small, female and male, amateur and professional.  Colm, who was a good tennis player, also covered rugby – he was on the Lions tour of South Africa in 1974, a life-changing trip – and when he became the Indo’s golf correspondent, he and Dai became good friends.  So we go back a long way.

At first, when I was trying to think of Colm-related anecdotes, all I could see was a series of snapshots from all over the golfing world, of Dai and me with Colm and Helen, his second wife, who died five years ago, laughing, with Seve; with the Christy O’Connors, Padraig, the mighty Mary McKenna, Irish golfers of every generation; with Maria Acacia and her team in charge of press rooms at Valderrama and all over Europe; with Charlie Yates at the press parties at the Masters at Augusta; drinking Guinness at The Goat in Dublin, vinho verde in Portugal with golf writing friends; at home…..the list goes on and on.  But I’m not the one to talk to about the golf writers’ home internationals because I only played the once – when they were desperate for an extra bod and even a woman would do.

Then Mo reminded me that one year at the Masters she had gone to the Saturday night party, when we sailed up Magnolia Lane as welcome guests, invitation to the fore, as Colm’s date – Helen was at home in Ireland working.  I’d forgotten that we wandered in to the locker room and mooched about taking in the atmosphere, peering at the immaculately polished shoes, even, scandalously, having a go with Jesper Parnevik’s ultra weird putter du jour.  Can’t really believe that Mo, a pro, would have sanctioned taking another pro’s club out of his bag without permission but we treated it with appropriate reverence, honest Jesper.

That might have been the year that I nicked an Augusta National glass from the bar, smuggling it out in Colm’s jacket pocket.  That was probably when the barman, who didn’t miss a trick, said, “I sees you but I ain’t telling.”  Good man and I’m sure he’s long retired now.  I don’t usually steal things but that glass has pride of place on my shelf – yes, miraculously it’s still intact.  I have no idea what its function is – apart from looking decorative – because it’s a bit small for wine and a tad too big for port but I love it and love the fact that Colm was happy to do the needful.  I’m sure that if I’d asked Charlie he’d have given it to me but where’s the frisson in that!

The day that Dai died Colm had flown over from Dublin to see him and it was a real comfort to have him there.  I’ll never forget Mo, Colm and me standing in the garden at St Giles Hospice, laughing our legs off because I’d just revealed Dai’s last word to me – SHUSH……No one will believe this I’d thought, before realising that, on the contrary, everyone who knew us would.  It was, I have to confess, perfect.

RIP dearest Colm and condolences to your family and many friends.

Life and golf go on and the Maguire twins, two of Ireland’s finest, are in Marrakesh for LET Pre-Qualifying B at Amelkis GC.  If they get through that, they’ll play in the final stage later this month.  Good luck to them but whatever happens, they’ll be okay.  They’re smart women as well as good golfers and we’re lucky to have them.

Finally, this being the time of year it is, Mo and I would like to wish our reader(s) a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and say thank you so much for reading.

I couldn’t resist putting this picture in.  Maureen’s post box collapsed recently and at my suggestion she’s been using a plastic box for the time being.  Unfortunately, the lid doesn’t fit too well and it couldn’t cope with all the rain we’ve had recently, so the mag emerged a little the worse for wear.  Well, a lot the worse for wear, its contents a mystery, shredded beyond comprehension.