Ask me about dreams and I’ll usually look at you blankly (not unusual admittedly, especially not now that I can blame lockdown brain for my habitual doziness).  Maureen often regales us with tales of her dreams, vivid, ghastly, ridiculous, incomprehensible but I’m inclined to insist that I don’t dream because if I do, nothing remains; on waking the mind is blank.

 

 

Except the other morning, in the run-up to The Masters at Augusta.  We’d been playing bridge via Zoom – more chaotic than usual because the hands had been out of synch from the start – and the chat had turned to sleep.  Two of our number had to manage on a few hours a night if they were lucky, the Margaret Thatcher quota of five or so – or was it four? – and one, a mother of two, was out for the count from the moment her head hit the pillow.

Normally I’m somewhere in the middle but that night I had to get up, turn on the radio, footer about and stop worrying about being awake when I didn’t want to be.  There’d been chat about what Dustin Johnson was serving at the champions’ dinner – the reigning champ gets to choose the menu – and I’d come across a lovely picture of Dai with Woosie at a trial run for the latter’s main course of Welsh lamb cooked in hay.  Perhaps that was the catalyst.

Whatever, later that morning when I woke up, I wasn’t at home in bed but still in a restaurant somewhere, chatting to Woosie, Freddie Couples and another Masters champion who swirled off into the ether to remain nameless, ungraspable.  I think I was imparting some words of wisdom, not on the swing (an unexpectedly good decision on my part) but on the need to be chirpy or chipper at all times, particularly on the golf course.

As I was leaving – late for wherever it was I had to be (nothing unusual there) – I half hopped over a vaguely familiar figure. immaculately dressed, sitting quietly on a bench at the end of the table.  As I was leaning on his shoulders to propel myself out the door I said, “Sorry Tom”, having realised that it was Sir Tom Jones, the pride of Wales.  Must mention to Helen, our singing teacher, that he should be one of the celebrity guests of choice next term.

Across the road, in another restaurant, a couple of chefs were sitting having a snack, waiting for me to turn up.  Others, who included Mum and Dad, had already eaten and I remembered wondering what Dad was doing there because he had no taste buds to speak of and would have been happy with beans on toast.

“We’ve just had the best meal we’ve ever had,” they said, extolling the delights of some sort of pizza with a potato base and telling me that we were all booked in again for the next night.  What the occasion was who knows – perhaps it was inspired by the thought of being able to eat out again at long last – but I remember thinking that I’d have to ditch the ISA (start of a new tax year, message from the financial adviser) because the place was mega expensive and there were a lot of us.

The main reason I’m regaling you with all this is that I wrote it down – more scrawl than copperplate so I’m making a lot of it up but in my defence I was still groggy with sleep and dreams are hardly fact-filled anyway.  I used to have a pair of dream-catcher earrings, bought in Arizona, Sedona I think but they disintegrated long ago….

Some dreams of glory at Augusta National this week already lie in tatters after the first round but many are still alive.  One thing’s for certain:  whoever wins will have to hole his putts (or chip in) – and that’s easier said than done on greens that are as slick as they’ve been for years.  I don’t suppose they were that fast or manicured in 1935, when Walter Hagen had seven one-putt greens on the first nine, to go out in 36, level par.

In his great book The Tumult and The Shouting, Grantland Rice wrote:  “I struggled through nine holes with Walter that morning.  He dubbed about every kind of shot imaginable….He butchered exactly 14 shots – hooks, slices, topped balls, the works….”  Even Hagen, who was past his prime, couldn’t keep that up and he never did add a Masters to his long list of titles.

“It’s the putting that goes first,” Hagen said later, “and do you know why?  The legs.  They’re not up to that hydrant immobility needed for the solid stance.  When the 8-footers begin to look like 18-footers and they don’t drop for you consistently any longer – that’s when you know you’re old.”

Rice wrote that Hagen was a great putter but added:  “His following will remember him much longer for his colour, his sparkling wit, his impeccable dress, his manners and charm under all conditions, than they will for his putting.”

Some people will remember Jock MacVicar for his putters rather than putting that inclined to the indifferent – one colleague recalls his shock at seeing a stash of 20 or so of the flat sticks in the boot of Jock’s car – but everyone will remember him for his kindness, his knowledge and his unbounded enthusiasm.

Sadly, the Doyen (of Dunaverty – he and Belle Robertson were at primary school together), president of the AGW, still writing for the Scottish Daily Express and looking forward to Bob MacIntyre’s debut at Augusta, died in hospital in Glasgow a few days ago at the age of 83.

There wasn’t a Scottish golfer of note who didn’t know Jock, who recorded their exploits with rare devotion, passion and insight.  “He was always positive, constructive and supportive,”   Andrew Coltart, now a Sky stalwart, wrote.  “When I was a kid, I felt I’d made it big when I was in one of his reports.”

Scott Crockett, communications director of the European Tour, a fellow Scot, put it beautifully:  “Jock was not only loved and respected in his native Scotland but across the world…..He knew everything about golf and knew everybody in golf….but it was his gentlemanly and kind-hearted demeanour, his at times wicked sense of humour and his ability to engage everyone as he found them that most will remember fondly….

“RIP old friend.”

 

 

 

Our golfing pals in the south of Ireland are champing at the bit -nay, frothing at the mouth, some of them, at still not being allowed back on their golf courses.  So thank goodness they had some homegrown talent to follow from their armchairs last week.

First up was Olivia Mehaffey who, for a large part of the final afternoon, was in with a realistic chance of winning the second edition of the Augusta National Women’s Amateur.  With Brian McKinley, a regular Augusta National Golf Club caddy who had steered Jennifer Kupcho to victory in 2019, at her side Olivia looked very much at home on the rolling green swards of Augusta.  Ultimately she ran out of steam and a double bogey at the 12th meant she missed a play-off by two shots, eventually finishing ninth.  It was a creditable performance and she now joins that very, very exclusive club of players from the Emerald Isle who can say they were in contention for a title over the back nine at Augusta.

Only nine players have made the cut in both editions of the ANWA and while Olivia finished in the middle of the pack last time out this was a very different experience for her.  Playing this iconic course with that level of adrenalin running through you will provide you with an experience money can’t buy and hopefully she will enjoy the benefits of that in the future when she turns professional.  Meanwhile, golf-mad Japan celebrated the victory of their own Tsubasa Kajitana, who recovered from the trauma of a double bogey at the 17th, first of all making and then winning the play-off with America’s Emilia Migliaccio.  It was a good watch.

Switching to watch the women’s professional game provided me with a brand new experience.  An Irish player was at the head of affairs in a major in the early part of the second round!  Leona Maguire was centre stage in the television coverage doing her thing and looking very much at home.  I think this is the first time an Irish woman has led a major.  I know Steph Meadow finished solo third in the 2014 US Women’s Open the week after she turned pro but If memory serves me correctly I don’t believe she actually led at any point.  I’m happy to be corrected on that.

Leona fought like a tiger to keep in touch but lost too much ground in the latter part of the second and then third rounds to mount a serious challenge at the end.  In fact, Steph, her fellow Irish international, closed with a magnificent 67 to best her by a couple of shots and finish in the top 20.

There was no one, however, who could live with the very special and supremely talented Thai sensation Patty Tavatanakit who led from start to finish.  Not even the fast-finishing former world No 1 (and favourite of this blog) Lydia Ko could derail Patty’s inexorable march to her first LPGA win and first major title.  Ko’s performance had Europe’s former Ryder Cup captain Thomas Bjorn taking to social media to urge folk to turn on their TVs to watch the Kiwi.  Nine under par for eleven holes stirred thoughts of a “59 watch”, but an “ordinary” finish of seven pars and one birdie “only” added up to a 62.  It was incredible stuff and testament to all the hard work Ko and her coach Sean Foley have put in.

To avid golf fans Patty T, as she is known, is not a completely new name.  She was a three-time winner on the Symetra Tour in 2019 and coincidentally was the low amateur at that year’s ANA Inspiration.  This was the second occasion in her fledgling rookie year in which she had teed it up in the last group on Sunday.  Last time she blew out early but not this time.  Having led since Thursday and started the final round with a five-shot lead, she avoided looking at leaderboards and so was largely unaware of Lydia’s charge that at one stage got her to within two.  Had the tournament been played out in front of a normal major gallery, it’s likely the attendant, excited buzz through the desert air would have alerted her to Ko’s phenomenal charge.  We’ll never know if that would have thrown her off a little.  As it transpired, she was able to deal with everything the week threw at her and her work with Vision54 coaches Lynn Marriott and Pia Nilsson equipped her with the mental skills to prevail.

Patty looks the real deal in every way.  She hits it miles, is good through the bag and putts beautifully.  Bogey-free in the final round of a major at the age of 21 is impressive and she knows now she can close it out on the biggest stage.  I wonder, just wonder – and I don’t say this lightly – if we in the women’s game are witnessing the arrival of our version of Tiger Woods?  Let the major count begin?

These are exciting times for women’s golf.

The incomparable Inbee Park strolled to her 21st LPGA victory at the Kia Classic last Sunday.  She was expecting to be a little rusty as it was her first competitive play for three months but she opened with a 66 and never looked back, cruising to a five-stroke victory over Lexi Thompson and Amy Olson.  In doing so Park broke the run of three consecutive American victories on the LPGA tour – the Korda sisters, Nelly and Jessica, and Austin Ernst had ascended to the top of the podium in the first hatrick of starts – and at No 2 in the world rankings she looks set to challenge again for her spot in the South Korean Olympic golf team.

With seven majors tucked away in her back pocket and increasingly hampered by injury in the lead up to Rio in 2016 things did not look good for Park.  Despite barely playing in the months before the Games, Park found herself qualified for the team but there were increasing calls for her to stand down and cede her spot to the next in line, her good friend So Yeon Ryu.  This is where we witnessed a little of the ruthless streak required by all winners as Inbee stubbornly refused to bow to outside pressures and she went on to make her debut in the Games in the most unpromising of circumstances.  Four days later we had witnessed one of golf’s great comebacks as Inbee, almost Buddha-like, serenely navigated her way to the gold medal which she had targeted months beforehand.  It has, so far, been the pinnacle of her career.

It’s safe to say that Inbee “gets” the Olympics, something not shared by all professional golfers, particularly the men.  She has long declared that were it not for the Olympics she might not still be playing.  The 32-year old has not hidden her desire for a second gold medal and, despite the ANA Inspiration, the first of the women’s majors, taking place this week, making sure of being in Tokyo is uppermost in her mind.  “I am pretty much eligible for pretty much anything in the game of golf,” said Park.  “Plus, I am defending champion of that event and I’m not qualified. It’s just a very different approach. … It’s getting close. I wouldn’t say I’m safe, but I’m getting close.”

Like all South Korean golfers Inbee has been inspired throughout her career by the legendary Se Ri Pak, whose 1998 wins in the McDonald’s LPGA Championship and the US Women’s Open sparked in her own country a tsunami of interest and investment in golf in general and women’s golf in particular.  That interest hasn’t abated one iota in the last 23 years and there are currently eight Korean players in the top 20 of the Rolex Women’s World Golf Rankings.  Competition to be in Japan is fierce but if Inbee’s Kia Classic victory is anything to go by she won’t give up easily on her dream of a second consecutive gold medal.  It makes for a fascinating few months ahead.

This week sees the second edition of the Augusta National Women’s Amateur.  Cancelled last year because of  COVID-19 it has been a long wait for these women, many of whom share the dream of competing in the final round over the famed Augusta National golf course.  Indeed, many have delayed a move to the professional ranks just so they can tee it up this week.  Eighty-two players will play the first 36 holes over neighbouring Champions Retreat in Augusta with the top 30 playing the final 18 holes at Augusta National.  When Fred Ridley, the chairman of Augusta National Golf Club, announced in 2018 that the club intended to stage this new women’s event it was with the stated ambition “to inspire greater interest and participation in the women’s game by creating a new, exciting and rewarding pathway for these players to fulfil their dreams”.

Well, they couldn’t have hoped for a better inaugural event.  Captivating the attention of millions, the final round had everything.  The final pairing of Jennifer Kupcho and Maria Fassi went head to head over the last nine holes, Kupcho battling a severe migraine but somehow finding the resources to be five under for her last six holes and snare victory.  The effervescent Fassi, displaying great sportsmanship and joie de vivre, certainly gives the lie to the old saying that no one remembers who is second.  We were treated to fabulous skills by these two young women who now both play professionally on the LPGA.  I wonder if they realise just how much they have inspired young amateurs who dream of following in their wake?  I’m sure in the next decade or so we’ll hear female champions citing that round of golf as their first exposure to the game.

Augusta National may have been expecting a slow burn of an event with the necessity of a few years of play under their belts before the tournament would grow into itself.  Well, they had a firecracker of a debut and, handled correctly and in that inimitable ANGC way, the trend could well be steeply upward as opposed to gradual.

To round off this week’s musings on women in the game, I’d like to say how pleased I was to see Michelle Wie West take to the competitive fairways in the Kia Classic for the first time since she became a mum.  Patricia and I first saw her as a precocious 14-year old in the Curtis Cup at Formby in 2004.  I had rarely seen a female strike a golf ball as she did and part of me can scarcely believe that seventeen years later she has only a lone major to her name.  Copious injuries alongside growing up in a goldfish bowl with your every move dissected does not make for an easy life and it is impressive how Michelle has always behaved with poise and grace when under fire.  She admitted that when she knew she was going to have a daughter a new goal began to form in her mind.

“That’s when I started to think, ‘You know, I kind of want to (play again). I want to show (my daughter) in real time that I can, that I play golf’. It’s one thing to have her watch YouTube videos. It’s another thing to have her watch me with her own eyes.  Seeing me go out there, work at it hard, and try to lead by example.

“That moment that Tiger had with Charlie [in the PNC Championship], that is the first thing that popped into my mind. That’s been a huge motivation and that’s been a new dream of mine.”

Welcome back, Michelle.  Who needs a sackload of majors to be a winner?

It seems like a lifetime ago – and it was certainly a long time ago – but I used to go to the Dinah, now the ANA Inspiration, every year after a couple of weeks in Arizona and then head on to the Masters at Augusta the following week.  The tournament that raised the women’s game to another level started life in 1972 as the Dinah Shore Colgate Winners Circle, a 54-hole event with a massive prize fund of $110,000 – the US Women’s Open that year was worth $40,000 in total – and Jane Blalock, the first champion, won $20,050, more than the entire purse at several events.

It was all thanks to David Foster, an Englishman who worked for Colgate and saw women’s golf as a wonderful way to promote his company’s products.  Colgate sponsored Dinah Shore’s TV show – she was a megastar – and Foster asked her to host the tournament.  Here’s Dinah’s take on her involvement, in the foreword to Amy Alcott’s Guide To Women’s Golf:  “I was flattered, of course, but I thought he’d made one little mistake.  I didn’t play golf.  ‘You must mean a tennis tournament,’ I protested to the very British, very charming Mr Foster. ‘I’m a tennis player, not a golfer’.

“But David did mean golf, and so I began a crash course in playing this game that I’ve come to love so much.  That course becomes more intense a month before tournament tee-off time each year….. [there were at least two pro-ams and because Dinah was the hostess with the mostest, the place was awash with what would now be called A-listers, stars of stage, screen, sport and beyond – and fans]…..

“Though I never played it as a child, my roots in golf go back to my mother.  Golf was one of the greatest joys in her life, and when I think about her playing golf in Tennessee, I marvel at her guts.  After all, there weren’t a lot of women golfers back home in those days.  I wonder what she’d think if she saw how many women are playing the game today [1990/1].  I know she’d be just as thrilled as I am…..

“I have a very warm spot in my heart for the women who compete in, and who have won, our tournament.  I think their skill, talent and personalities have helped make it special…..”

And, of course, Dinah, with her high profile, her telly show and buddies like Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope – she was that big a star – was beyond special.  Players, Alcott included, appeared on her show (and in Colgate ads) and Dinah said:  “Amy is a great friend and a terrific individual, but sometimes I’m flabbergasted at some of the nuttier things she does.  For instance, when she won our tournament in 1988, she and her caddie dove into the pond at the 18th hole.  It’s full of mud hens, mud, ducks and other euch!  I was so happy they survived, I promised her that the next time she won I’d dive into the pond instead.”

That started what has become a tradition – the leap into Poppie’s Pond, which is a bit cleaner these days – and the winner’s white towelling dressing gown is as treasured as any green jacket/coat.

Dinah, fair play to her, did jump in with Amy, who won the title three times, in 1983, the event’s first year as a major, 1988 and 1991 and the tennis player turned golfer helped catapult the LPGA and its players into the brightest of limelight, for one week of the year at least.  It’s no wonder that she was inducted into its Hall of Fame in 1994 as an honorary member.

A British or Irish player has yet to win at Mission Hills Country Club, Rancho Mirage, home of the tournament since its inception but those of us who made the pilgrimage year after year had plenty to write about as we watched the best players strut their stuff at one of the best venues in front of huge, often rowdy crowds.  Laura Davies, in her pomp, came close but never added this to her long list of wins; Helen Dobson, such a good golfer, gave it a good run one year; and the European winners included the ever ebullient Helen Alfredsson and Patricia Meunier-Lebouc, one of France’s finest as well as the all-conquering Annika Sorenstam.  The Dinah was rarely dull and the spring drive across the desert from Phoenix to California – a short hop by American standards – was often magical.

I’d forgotten about Annika’s red shoes until I spotted them in the impressive, beautifully arranged display and it was a tale that kept us going all week.  Don’t ask me what it was now – some sort of marketing ploy I suspect – but those shoes livened up all our pieces and all the pictures.  Golf coverage can’t all be about 5-irons to 5 feet otherwise we’d all have died of boredom aeons ago…..

In England we’re back out playing golf again but I won’t tantalise those of you yet to be unleashed with details of our return – in glorious weather.  Instead, here’s a postcard, from Dai’s extensive collection, of Mission Hills as it used to be, before Rancho Mirage and Palm Springs sprawled out to take over the desert.