I haven’t quite got into the swing of my golf watching this year and I’m wondering why.  After all, its not as if my diary is jam-packed with delicious things to do, people to see and events to attend, so why am I finding it easy to drift past the golf with the remote and find something else to while away the time of an evening?

I pondered this for a while and all I could come up with was that my own personal favourite players weren’t firing on all cylinders just yet and thus my interest in said tournaments waned.  I’m also of the belief that we are saturated with televised golf to the extent that one tournament rolls into another.  Sometimes the dial just shows “full”.   For me, aside from the majors, weekend coverage would suffice and surely that would also help the production and commentary teams remain a little fresher and more innovative with their output?

Patricia sent me an interesting little article the other day from her eclectic golf archive which featured Derrick Pillage, a business manager of several of Britain’s young up-and-coming stars in the late 1960s.  He was discussing several of the young players in his stable including Bernard Gallacher, Brian Barnes, Malcolm Gregson, Tony Jacklin and Tommy Horton.  All were immensely talented and all became tournament winners and Ryder Cup players but even then Pillage felt our expectations of our young sportsmen and women were cripplingly high.  He cited that Lee Trevino became Rookie of the Year on the PGA Tour at the handsome age of 28 and Arnold Palmer was 29 when he won his first tournament.  Nowadays that is considered old, particularly when you have Lydia Ko saying that she sees 30 as her prime time to retire from the fairways.  Mind you, she has been winning professional golf tournaments since the tender age of 15 and was the youngest player ever to ascend to world No 1, at the age of 17.

There’s no doubt that winners have become younger and younger but most seem to flare brightly for only a few seasons before the flame dies.  Many multiple major winners annexe their titles in a relatively short space of time and then don’t win the big ones again.  Padraig Harrington won his three majors in 14 months and Rory won his four in the space of three years and a couple of months.  On the other hand, Mickelson took almost a decade to gather up his five majors while Faldo managed six in a similar time frame but Brooks Koepka won four in three years.  Of course, hopefully, young guns like Rory and Brooks aren’t finished.  We don’t expect them to be, but I wonder if sometimes we’re not a little unrealistic.  It’s hugely difficult to win one major, yet I find myself chafing with disappointment when Rory “only” records a top five or top ten finish.  It’s not like football, rugby, cricket or netball after all, where you only play one opponent at a time.  Golfers sometimes have 155 other players to contend with and anyone can have the week of their life.

I’m not quite sure where I’m going with all this except to say that when longevity and multiple majors are married together we are witnessing something quite rare indeed.  Gary Player won nine majors over a 19-year span and Nicklaus won his 18 over a spell of 24 years.  Tiger managed 15 majors from 1997 to 2019, again an extraordinary length of time to be competitive at the very top of the sport.

Only five women have achieved double digits in major victories:  Patty Berg 15;  Mickey Wright 13;  Louise Suggs 11;  Babe Zaharias 10; and Annika Sorenstam 10.  Annika wasn’t born when the last major was won by her formidable band of predecessors (Wright’s win in the Women’s Western Open in 1966) but the Swede went on to dominate the women’s game and won her 10 majors between 1995 and 2006.  She may well have had more in her locker but retired in 2008 to start a family and develop her other business interests.

Annika turned 50 last year and is eyeing up playing in a few Senior Women’s majors this season.  To that end she dusted off her golf clubs last week and played in the Gainbridge LPGA tournament at her home course of Lake Nona in Orlando.  She eschewed any notions that she was “coming out of retirement” but she couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little tournament golf in her own back yard in preparation for the Senior US Women’s Open.  Despite an incorrect ruling, which cost her dearly, she made the cut on the number and delighted her fans by playing on the weekend.  It was a remarkable achievement for someone who had barely played in the intervening 13 years and despite her own description of herself now as a “wife and a mother” I wouldn’t bet against her winning her first Senior major later in the year.

She is, after all, one of those rare beings who has married domination, longevity and multiple majors and they are few and far between in this most exacting of sports.

I intend to turn over a new leaf as of now and rejoice in the accomplishments and successes of my favourites instead of feeling annoyed with them when they fall short of my ridiculous expectations.  For a fan, realism, after all, can armour you against disappointment.

This blog likes to be a bit silly and tries not to take itself or anything else too seriously but sometimes life grabs you by the throat and shakes you so hard that you have to pay attention and stop wittering on about not playing your king of diamonds when you should have or your partner leaving you in 3 clubs when you’ve opened and she has 21 points on her own.  Believe me, we bridge bores, especially those of us who know bugger all, can match golfers yawn for yawn.

On Tuesday, having seen the footage of Tiger’s courtesy car lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a wooded slope, I feared I’d be writing a bit of a eulogy, recalling his career and his influence on the game and whether he’d done enough to be called the greatest of all time.  I refuse to use that ghastly acronym GOAT it’s just not good enough.  A goat that’s not a horned ruminant animal is a foolish person, according to my dictionary, so perhaps Tiger, who’s an intelligent man, could come up with something better during the long months of recuperation and rehab.

The crash won’t have done his battered back much good – he had his fifth back surgery a few weeks ago – and his right leg and ankle were badly shattered .  By all accounts he’s lucky to be alive, saved by a top-of-the range-SUV and his seatbelt.  My goodness, some of us can remember the early days when we resented being told to wear the new-fangled safety thingys but a lot of people owe their lives to the way the slogan “clunk, click every trip” wormed its way into our brains and persuaded most of us to belt up whenever we get behind the wheel.

It’s a catchphrase that also became associated with Jimmy Savile, who was revealed, far too late, as a shameless, prolific sexual predator who blighted countless lives.  He abused youngsters who looked up to him and trusted him and were too scared – and ashamed – to tell and ask for help.  Earlier this week, Madelene Sagstrom, the 28-year old Swede who is defending the Gainbridge LPGA title at Lake Nona, revealed that she had been abused by a family friend when she was seven and had kept it to herself, ashamed she said, until she told Robert Karlsson, her coach, in 2016.

“This was something I was never going to tell anybody,” Sagstrom said, but Karlsson, Europe’s No 1 in 2008, twice a Ryder Cup player and, more importantly, an empathetic man, had asked her to think about why she was having so much trouble controlling her emotions on the course.  She realised it was important to talk about the thing she’d buried for so long, spending years trying to pretend it didn’t matter that much.  It proved cathartic.

“I’ve said the worst thing I can say,” Sagstrom recalled, “and I felt so free…..I wasn’t hiding any more…..”

Golf had been her salvation and when she released her demons, she took her game to new heights, playing in the Solheim Cup in 2017, her rookie year on the LPGA tour and winning for the first time last year.  She and the LPGA did not take the decision to share her story lightly but it is part of the Drive On campaign, which is designed to inspire by telling the players’ stories and revealing the people and characters beneath the visors.

Sagstrom’s harrowing tale appeared in full on lpga.com on Monday and a video was posted on her Instagram, with this introduction:   “As human beings we’re all facing challenges and traumas.  Hard, deep and emotional stories that change who we are and how we look at ourselves.  This is my story.  A story how I’ve handled trauma and grown into the person I am today.  How I’ve changed the way I view myself and see my own worth.  If you’re out there and feel alone, remember you’re not.  We’re all in this together and there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”

Not surprisingly, given the attention and the emotion, Sagstrom made a shaky start to the defence of her title with a round of 77, five over par, that included a birdie at the 1st but a couple of ugly double bogeys at the 15th and 18th.  She’s 12 shots behind Lydia Ko, the leader but no one’s in any doubt that the defending champ has played a blinder this week and impressed countless people with her fortitude.

“It’s slightly overwhelming,” she said, “but it feels so good inside…..If I touch one life by telling my story, it will all be worth it.”  Judging by the response so far, it’s been more than worth it.  Thanks Madelene.

Annika Sorenstam, who played with Sagstrom, said, “It takes a lot of courage to do what she did, to be able to share some intimate personal stories from her childhood that must have just been obviously haunting her for years and years…..I’ve reached out and told her I’m proud of you and if you need anything I’m here to support you in whatever you need….”

For the record – and because the tournament doesn’t seem to be available anywhere on my telly – here are some scores:  Sorenstam, venturing out of retirement at the age of 50, had a 75, as did Laura Davies and Carlota Ciganda; Leona Maguire 69; Sophia Popov 70; Albane Valenzuela, Charley Hull and Mel Reid 71; Georgia Hall 72; Stephanie Meadow 76; Yani Tseng 81.

The subject matter has been a bit grim this week, so I’ll finish with a bit of light and colour, courtesy of Caroline Scallon, who is, like so many of you, a jigsaw junkie.  A thousand pieces from www.eurographicspuzzles.eu.  Notice, Caroline says, with relief, that there are no “endless, seamless skies”.  And no snow.  The white stuff nearly defeated one veteran puzzler I know – nearly but not quite.

And finally, another Mary McKenna special to make our hearts soar.

 

 

 

A word of warning at the start:  I’ve just had my vaccination and who knows what kind of reaction there might be, so if this blog peters out halfway through, that’s probably the reason.  The possible side effects include fatigue, chills, nausea, vomiting, fever, dizziness, headaches, so who knows if I can stagger to the end?  Fingers crossed.  And don’t think that I’m not aware of those going, “Please God, make her stop now….we can’t take much more of this….”  Or, as the old-time, late lamented copytakers, rendered redundant by technology, used to say to the reporters desperately trying to make the words sing but decomposing at the end of the phone:  “Is there much more of this?….”

You had to be on the receiving end to hear the ennui and disdain, delivered with immaculate timing that would have done justice to Dorothy Parker at her most haughty and dismissive.  Ah, the good old days!

I suppose I’d better start with a bit of golf to get it out of the way.  The good news is that Mike Whan, who transformed the LPGA in almost every way in his record-breaking spell (a mind-boggling 11 years) in charge, will not be lost to golf.  He’ll be taking over as CEO of the USGA (United States Golf Association) in the summer and the world’s junior governing body, traditionally sedate and buttoned up – its idea of casual is dispensing with a tie – knows it’s in for a bit of a wild ride.

Whan knows golf but he’s not afraid to take risks and what makes him effective is that he takes people along with him.  He’s already told his future colleagues that he’ll make many more mistakes than Mike Davis, the man he succeeds but he’s good at learning and doesn’t usually make the same mistake twice.  “I’m really not that great at very many things,” Whan said, “but I’m really good at bringing people together for a common purpose.”

I hesitate to describe him as a miracle worker – I really don’t know him but he seems to be well aware of his strengths and isn’t scared to admit his weaknesses and appoint people who are better at certain things than he is – but anyone who has run a women’s tour for more than a decade and leaves with praise raining down on them from every angle (and no sharp implement in their back) has to inspire shock and, above all, awe.  Whan really will have performed miracles if his successor is appointed in a civilised manner, proves a success and stays in post for a decent amount of time, building on what are now very firm foundations.

He’s a man who doesn’t like to feel too comfortable in his job, which is perhaps something we could all learn from, especially those of us who are rather fond of our comfort zone and don’t feel the need to challenge ourselves too much.  Whan revealed that his wife Meg (I got her name off the internet so hope it’s right) knew 18 months ago that they’d be moving, she just didn’t know where.  Why? How?  Because he’d stopped waking up at two in the morning and reaching for his notepad!

“I’m taking this job because I’m really uncomfortable,” he said of his move to the USGA.  “This makes me nervous.  I know I’ve got a lot to learn.  I’m excited because of all the things I don’t know……I need first tee jitters to play my best.”  Fortunately, as he said in another interview somewhere – and I paraphrase – he’s never suffered from stage fright, he likes an audience and he likes nothing better than a bit of collaboration and persuading people that it’s in their best interests to work together.

I don’t know if the sainted Rory (well, we know he’s only human and not perfect but the blog is still a McIlroy fan) has met Mike Whan yet but it won’t be too long before he does.  Rory has been very outspoken, scathing even, about the USGA and R&A’s distance initiative and the Ulsterman has just become the first player not born in the US to be elected to the PGA Tour policy board, pipping Russell Knox and Kevin Streelman.  Rory is currently chairman of the Player Advisory Council (PAC) and he’ll take up his position on the policy board next year, replacing Jordan Spieth.  Ah.

Those of us who’d like Rory to complete the Grand Slam by winning the Masters and go on to win more majors and lots of other tournaments aren’t too sure we want him taking on more committee work and neglecting his core business, so to speak.  How much good did it do Spieth’s golf?  Perhaps it’ll suit Rory, who is not built like a Woods or a Faldo, single-minded individuals who pursued titles with little thought for anything else in their lives.  Perhaps Rory will pitch up at Augusta – soon I hope – thinking about something else, find himself playing well (goodness, that fierce, concentrated practice seems to be working) and end up wearing a green jacket. Ah well, we can all dream.

The pandemic is still playing merry hell with scheduling and events like the West of Ireland, the men’s home internationals and the Girls’ U16 Amateur Championship, have already been postponed until later in the year.  If the Walker Cup at Seminole goes ahead at the beginning of May, GB and I, most of whose players will nearly have forgotten what competition is, will have to perform miracles not to get mangled.  And once May comes, July can’t be far behind.  If the Open goes ahead this year, will any of us be allowed to be there?

Ah well, back to the jigsaws.

 

 

 

Peter Alliss had an influence on my golfing life long before I met him.  It all goes back to the early 70s when Patricia was about to set off to uni in Edinburgh and Mum wrote to Peter asking him if he could recommend any good coaches in the Scottish capital.  That summed up how Peter was viewed – an ordinary golf viewer like Mum felt she could quite easily correspond with the famous Peter Alliss, a prolific tournament winner and eight-time Ryder Cup player.  In no time at all, a handwritten reply arrived and the great man suggested John Shade.  Patricia acted upon his advice and I soon followed in beating a path to Duddingston Golf Club to spend many delightful hours with JS, as we came to call him.  It was Mr Shade who laid the foundations for my two British Championship victories and it’s an eternal regret of mine that he passed away a few weeks before my win at Nairn.

Many years later, but still pre email, I’d find myself in a TV compound somewhere with Peter and I’d see huge amounts of mail, bundles of the stuff, arriving for him.  I thought perhaps he’d have a secretary to send out a generic reply but no, as he did with Mum, he considered every request and wrote back in his own hand.  Seeing the innate kindness and consideration with which he dealt with people has always stayed with me.  It was something I witnessed every time I was in his company.

I suppose our paths really began to cross when I turned professional.  Peter was the first president of the Women’s Professional Golf Association (now the Ladies’ European Tour) and it was massively important to us and a great boost to have someone of his stature in the game fighting our corner and believing in us.  He gave us credibility at a vitally important time and sponsors felt encouraged to step forward simply because Peter himself was so involved.  He was never just a name on headed notepaper.  He was a foot soldier, in there with us, striving and fighting for opportunities for women to play the game professionally in Europe.  We owe him a lot.

The most time I spent with Peter and with his wonderful wife, Jackie, was, of course, at tournaments where I was fortunate enough to work alongside him.  On one of my very early ventures into the commentary box I was rostered on to have a break immediately after lunch.  Being very new to that world I decided the best use of my break would be to stay at my position in the box and listen in to, and observe, Ken Brown and Peter at work.  It was an education and an early introduction to me of the importance of silence at critical times, an art that Peter felt was being lost in modern day commentary.  Imagine my mixture of delight and terror when Peter suddenly gestured at me to put on my headset, pick up my mike and take part, despite the fact that I wasn’t due on for another twenty minutes.  With a few more encouraging “on you go” gestures from him I took a deep breath and waded in, slightly giddy with the knowledge that the greatest commentator of all felt I may have something of interest to say.  Five minutes later I heard a grunt coming from Peter’s direction and fearing I’d dropped a clanger I turned to look at him.  There he was, headset off, mike down, chair pushed back, hands folded in his lap, ankles (inevitably encased in red socks) crossed, eyes closed……….taking a nap!  Boy, did that bring me back to earth with a bump!

Ken always claimed that Peter reserved his best commentary for when there was no golf being shown – you know the sort of thing, a boy eating an ice cream or a dog running up a sandhill.  His humour was very observational, completely spur-of-the-moment and always apt.  He was a raconteur extraordinaire with an impeccable sense of timing, wonderful recall of past events and a light touch.  His commentary career spanned decades, starting with clambering up scaffolding to draughty commentary positions alongside Henry Longhurst to 21st Century broadcasting from his own home, as he did only a few weeks ago during the Masters.  It’s pretty fair to say he saw it all.

One of my favourite parts of a working day with Peter was the sound checks, carried out just before going on air.  When called upon most of us would uninspiringly manage a “Good Morning” and a count to ten while still checking over notes and research.  Not Mr Alliss.  He’d heartily clear his throat, regard the TV monitor to check the early pictures the cameramen were showing and launch into five minutes of wonderful, stream-of-consciousness stuff that had us all helpless with laughter.  In all my time beside him the only note I ever saw in front of him was a reminder to mention a particular club or person – usually requests that had come from his adoring fans.

A direct, tell-it-as-it-is approach did sometimes land him in hot water, however.  He had some very fixed notions about things and he and I used to have what in my family are called “spirited discussions”.   In other words we would each fight our corner on the topic about which we held opposing views.  Our mantra was we could disagree without being disagreeable and I certainly learned a great deal more from these sessions than Peter did.  He was always interested in what you had to say and keen to understand the opposite point of view but a well constructed and reasoned argument was essential to winning him over to your side.  I think he enjoyed these sparring matches – I hope so.  I certainly did!

Little did I realise that my last opportunity to spend any time with Peter would be at the 2019 Solheim Cup at Gleneagles.  Jackie, his wife, a tour de force in her own right, was also there and we had pretty much a perfect week with the thrilling finale topping it all off.  Unbiased as we try to be on air we are all simply golf fans at heart and I know Peter was immensely proud of the strides taken by the LET, the fledgling tour he helped to nurture.  In the happy snap below Jackie and I are celebrating with Sam Maynard, the beating heart of the BBC production, while Peter was concluding an interview.  A few minutes later he joined us and safe to say we had a few scoops that evening!

The greatest writers and broadcasters of our time have been prolific this week in writing and talking about Peter and endeavouring to catch the essence of the man.  There have been so many lovely words and I’m sure an avalanche of correspondence is currently engulfing Jackie and the family.  My heart and love goes out to them, as well as my thanks for sharing this marvellous man with us all.  He was, quite simply, the best.