It’s been quite a year!  Twelve months ago the cheers of Ole, ole, ole were ringing out around the Golf National Golf Club near Versailles as Europe romped to a terrific Ryder Cup victory.  April meant Augusta in the spring sunshine and the extraordinary 15th major win for the injury ridden Tiger and then……. well, then July and the Open at Portrush – for me, arguably the absolute pinnacle of all my years of playing, watching and working in golf.  But the game has kept on giving and last week Europe squeaked home in the Solheim Cup at Gleneagles, against the US, by the narrowest of margins.  Ole, ole ole indeed.

That was the 16th edition of the Solheim Cup and between us Patricia and I have been present at 14 of these encounters.  Our roles have altered over the last 30 years.  Patricia has morphed from a supposedly unbiased, sensible, considered golf writer for the Times into a bona fide European supporter, actually (whisper it quietly) sporting a Scottish ginger wig one day.  Of course, that WOULD be the day she chose to drop in to the TV compound, popping in to the BBC production office to say hello to Peter and Jackie Alliss.  I, meanwhile, have moved from being fellow tour player and friend of the players to broadcaster, member of the back room team and then back to commentator.  My own blue and yellow wig is not far away, I think.

You have to accept that at the moment Europe and the US are not exactly the powerhouses of women’s golf.  That accolade lies a little further east but you don’t necessarily need the best teams to get the best contests and I don’t agree with those who say the Solheim Cup is no longer relevant.  The BBC highlights programme peaked at over 650,000 viewers.  Add in Sky’s live coverage averaging 250,000 and that’s considerable interest for what some commentators have called a second rate contest.  And let’s not forget the 90,000 spectators actually at the match.

I confess I still find it difficult to get past the R&A’s decision to remove the Open, the Women’s British Open, the Walker Cup and the Curtis Cup from terrestrial TV.  Obviously none of us was party to the behind-the-scenes discussions that took place but the net result is golf on television is only available to those who can afford a hefty monthly subscription.  Those people tend to be avid golfers and already hooked on the game.  Slim chance of inspiring interest in non-golfers.  Funny way to “grow the game” isn’t it?  If the R&A felt the BBC coverage of the Open was tired and dated, why not make more stringent demands on the Corporation?  Was it REALLY only ever about the money on the table?

I’d like to emphasise here that I think Sky do an excellent job but their reach is small and I don’t believe that is good for golf.  It certainly won’t help the Ladies’ European Tour who will be desperate to capitalise on this great win in a very uncertain commercial climate.

One of the downsides to doing a highlights programme is that I do not get much of an opportunity to get out on the golf course during the matches.  I’m buried away in the TV compound commentating from a TV monitor.  I do, however, get to sit next to Peter Alliss for a straight eight to ten hours and I can tell you that is never dull!  I do, occasionally, escape to do a small piece to camera with Eilidh Barbour, our presenter, and it’s great fun getting prepped for the camera by one of the make-up artists.  They are magicians!

Opportunities to bump into old friends from tour days are therefore limited but a great week came to a perfect conclusion for me when I spotted a familiar figure as i was leaving our hotel on the Monday morning – the always elegant Swede, former European Solheim Cup captain, Lotte Neumann.  Lotte had been supporting the team all week and was looking forward to a few rounds of her own in Scotland.  She was off that day to play at St Andrews and had Muirfield on the list for later in the week.

I came away reflecting yet again on all that golf has given me across most of my life – competition, fun, friendships, principles and a living, to name but a few things.  All I really want is for others to have a chance to know and love this game as I do and it’s imperative we keep striving to be all-inclusive and welcoming.  Time to ditch the exclusivity label that sticks to our sport and the outdated views that hold us back.  Time to welcome all with arms outstretched.

I was standing behind the 8th tee at Gleneagles last Saturday – yes, I was there – waiting for Lizette Salas or, more specifically, her coat, when I spotted a text.  The phone, on silent, was poised to snap said coat – I’d been tracking it for two or three holes with a marked lack of success – and as I read the message I nearly exploded.

The text, from a friend in the county of Antrim who is not renowned for restraint or political correctness, read as follows:  “Hi.  Will you FFS take a hot poker to some well upholstered backside out there and tell them to get a bloody move on.  Three hours for 9 holes?  Yer da is spinning in his grave.  I can play 18 holes in that time.  It’s a shocking advert for women’s golf and will only produce a circus of jokes about ‘female indecision’.  Never mind losing one hole:  three strikes and you’re out.  Loss of match and point.  Yours, Bored of Portrush.”

I responded (I had plenty of time):  “Your message arrived just as I was behind the 8th tee watching Lizette Salas!”

“How appropriate.”

“Nearly burst out laughing at v inappropriate moment.”

“Wonderful!  As it says in the Good Book (The Rules of Life by the R and A):  And the Lord said:  ‘Lo, I shall smite the po-faced and the over-cautious while they go about their putt putt’.”

Don’t worry, once this friend gets on a roll, no one has a clue.

Salas wasn’t the only slowcoach on display – Carlota Ciganda’s habit of backing off, as though hoping to take the ball by surprise, is beyond irritating – and if as distinguished a fan as Rory McIlroy is moved to admit he found some of the golf unwatchable, there’s a problem.  Golf nerds will, despite themselves, come back regardless, the less committed will switch off or over and go elsewhere, probably for ever.

The players claim to be keen to improve the pace of play but they’re not; they don’t give a toss; after all, it’s their job, so what else do they have to do all day?  Anyway, they say, it’s up to the officials to enforce the guidelines but that’s just refusing to accept responsibility.

They’ve forgotten that golf is a moving game, it’s not static, despite the fact that you do stop to hit a ball that is lying there waiting for you to give it a skelp.  They’ve stopped calculating on the move, assessing the conditions, considering their options as they approach the ball, almost making a decision on the type of shot, even the club, before they’ve come to a halt beside their ball.  It’s the old paralysis by analysis, by the very people who should, given the hours they put in on the practice ground and their ridiculous levels of skill, know their capabilities inside out and be the speediest of us all.

They’re looking for perfection but didn’t someone once say that “golf is not a game of perfect”?  Didn’t someone write a book about it?  And can we blame the advent of another book, the yardage book, for slowing things down to start with?  Gene Andrews, an American amateur, who disliked the fickleness of “feel”, played by yardage and had a little book for all the courses he played.  Deane Beman, who became commissioner of the US PGA Tour, picked up on the idea and so did Jack Nicklaus, who could also turn to stone over his putts.  Trouble was, he holed most of them and players all over the world gave up missing ’em quick in an attempt to emulate Jack.  At least he knew what he was doing; most of the rest of us don’t have a bloody clue.

 

 

Come Sunday, Gleneagles was at its glorious best and the golf couldn’t have been more compelling.  Most of the matches were too tight to call and the thousands of spectators who pounded their way round some challenging terrain were on tenterhooks.  Europe edging on top?  No.  USA all the way?  No.  Advantage Europe?  No, Stars and Stripes for ever, heading for an unprecedented three Solheims in a row.  A European BBU (brave but unavailing).  We’re fecked (as they say in Ireland), all impartiality ditched.  The USA, the holders, only need a half to retain with three matches still out on the course.  Europe still have a glimmer but they can’t do it, surely?

Anna Nordqvist, playing in splendid isolation, more or less, in the last match, always had the better of Morgan Pressel and won on the 15th, away from the mayhem that was brewing further ahead.  Bronte Law, all passion and bounce, shrugged off some shocking frittering to finish with a flourish that Ally McDonald couldn’t match and they then stood on the 17th green and watched the denouement on the big screen.

I’d been following Bronte with two friends from Cheshire who’d known her since she was a wee lass and after we’d stopped clapping her victory, we and hordes of others stood looking at Suzann Pettersen standing over a putt on the 18th green.  “What’s this for?” we said to the man next to us.  “It’s for the match,” he said.  “It’s for the whole thing.”

“What!” we said.  ”You’re joking!”

I thought of Bernhard Langer at Kiawah but Pettersen had left herself an uphill putt and in it went, right in the middle, no messing.  Cue more jumping up and down, screeching, general mania and disbelief.  Even Catriona Matthew, the calmest, least demonstrative of captains, went bananas.

Blimey.  How did that happen?  How did we do that?  How did Pettersen even hold the putter?  It was Killeen Castle without the rain. (I still don’t know how Europe pulled off that win in Ireland.)  Unbelievable.

The bottom line is that my boots (see top) are still unbeaten; whenever they tramp the fairways Europe win.  They made their debut at the Ryder Cup at Celtic Manor in 2010; sloshed their way around Killeen Castle at the 2011 Solheim; Maureen wore them at Gleneagles in 2014 at the Ryder Cup; and here they were again, back in Scotland, where Europe have now won three Solheim Cups.

I’ll leave the last word to my mate, transformed from Bored to Potty of Portrush:-

WOW!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m writing the blog – or at least starting it – a few hours earlier than usual, sitting in the press/media centre at Gleneagles, where we’re all getting ready for the Solheim Cup to start just after 0800 on Friday morning.  In such a serious place, surrounded by people pounding away on their laptops (there are still some old schoolers who grew up with typewriters and haven’t quite adjusted to today’s more sensitive keyboards), composing, filming, recording, phoning, interviewing, scurrying to meet deadlines, I feel I should be doing likewise.  Instead, resisting temptation womanfully, it’ll be the same old guff, only perhaps with better pictures….

T Rex is having his shoelaces tied, honest.

I love the Solheim Cup and it’s great to see how it’s grown to become a proper, competitive, must-not-miss event with people saving up to travel to it every two years, to cheer on their favourites, deck themselves out in the most outrageous outfits and enjoy the banter with the opposition.  Some commentators, slaves to the world rankings, which are currently dominated by the Rest of the World rather than Americans and Europeans, have written the Solheim off as mired in mediocrity (I paraphrase but only slightly) and described the Europeans as “simply pitiful”.  Hmm.

That makes me think of the second Solheim at Dalmahoy – this is the 16th, which means that that unforgettable braveheart bouleversement when the Europeans hammered an American team laden with titles and major championships, was 27 years ago.  Unbelievable.  Anyway, Beth Daniel, one of the US stars, was quoted as saying that you could put any one of the Americans on the European team and make it better but only Laura Davies or Liselotte Neumann could conceivably improve the American side.  Talk about lighting the blue touch paper.  No more motivation needed.  Hell hath no fury like an underdog scorned.  Beth still denies she said any such thing but she was absolutely right, if lacking in diplomacy; several of the Europeans went on to great things but at that time they were raw in the extreme compared with their opponents.

Dalmahoy is right up there as one of the great sporting upsets and you don’t need the world’s best players to have one of the world’s best contests.  I’m expecting great things from both sides this week and a ding-dong battle that will shred the nerves of everyone bar the odd stray neutral – who’ll have to pick a side to savour the atmosphere and occasion to the full.

 

The two captains, whom no one could describe as mediocre in any way, were relaxed and at ease as they gave the media their pairings in advance of the official announcement at the opening ceremony – on pain of expulsion were we to break the embargo – and both had a little fun at Suzann Pettersen’s expense.  The feisty Norwegian, who has barely played any competitive golf since the birth of her son a year and a bit ago, was an interesting captain’s pick and is not playing in the opening session.

She was apparently sounding croaky in her press conference earlier in the day and Matthew was asked if she had any concerns.  She said no, on the contrary:  “Suzann said she’s actually feeling pretty good, obviously just a little bit hoarse.  She’s actually feeling good.  Her caddie is probably quite pleased at that; she’s not speaking so loudly.”

The Norwegian is notoriously vocal and, in the past, pre-motherhood, volatile and Inkster was quick to interject with her own quip:  “It’s good for our side, too,” she said.

Inkster has paired the Korda sisters together despite initial misgivings.  “I wasn’t too keen on it,” she said.  “They really are two different personalities, even though they have the same game.  They actually asked me to play together  and the more I thought about it…..it would be stupid not to play them.  They’re a strong team together and they wanted to play together…..it’s not often you get two sisters on one team and they should have the right to play together.”

For the record, the PING Junior Solheim Cup, which was played on the King’s Course, ended, as it usually does, with victory for the USA.  It was close in the end – 13-11 – but the Europeans couldn’t quite make up for a big deficit in the fourballs.

It’s not like me to run out of words – and I haven’t really – but I’m going to leave you with some more pictures, to give you a flavour of what’s going on here in Perthshire, Scotland.  I travelled to Gleneagles by train from Edinburgh a couple of times and it really tickled me to see that ScotRail were pulling out all the Solheim stops at Waverley station.  I didn’t notice the branding on the platform gates at first because I was rushing and starting to panic that I’d missed platform 13 – tucked away a bit around a corner.

An event in Scotland would not be complete without the pipers and these guys – and girls – were getting ready for action.  The golfers aren’t the only players who have to be at their best on this big occasion.

Tuning up.  Honestly, even bagpipes…..

You never know who you’ll bump into at the Solheim and sometimes you just have to take advantage of your good luck.  Many years ago, Mo, still a very raw amateur, played with Nancy Lopez, a superstar if ever there was one, at Sunningdale, so we hijacked Nancy, one of the US assistant captains and universal icon, for this special pic.  I even managed to get their heads in; wonders will never cease.

Finally, no blog of mine would be complete without a mention of Whittington Heath GC (although I really should say first how shocked and aghast I was to hear that Rory McIlroy, a hero in these parts, had been chosen as the PGA Tour’s Player of the Year ahead of Brooks Koepka; anyone know how that happened?  Even Rory was stunned.)

Anyway, back to WHGC.  No diggers or steel structures this week, just the intrepid crew up here to cheer Europe to victory (we hope).