Mary Robinson, former President of Ireland, declared him a “global treasure”. It’s a term that smacks of gross over-exaggeration – but not in this case. She was referring, of course, to the one and only Sir David Attenborough who celebrates his 100th birthday today (May the 8th).
Older than the Masters tournament, Sir David first appeared in a programme bearing his name in the title back in the sixties and right from the off, his love for the natural world and passion for the environment shone through. It wasn’t trendy back then to be “green” but Sir David was like a one-man King Canute attempting, not to hold back the waves, but uncivilised man from decimating the natural world in the name of “progress”. He never harangued, never dictated, just gently pointed out the wonderful, captivating world few of us were even aware existed. And he repeated his message over and over and over across the decades.
The one and only Sir David Attenborough inspiring countless generations. [LTL.ORG.UK FB page]
By comparison, chasing a little white ball over four miles or so of rolling countryside seems, no IS, a ridiculous way to spend a lifetime. That can be said about all sport, really, when you think about it. They are all games that captivated us in childhood and some lucky folk are skilled enough to pursue them into adulthood and make a nice living.
Making more than a nice living at the moment is Nelly Korda who is forging her inexorable way towards the LPGA Hall of Fame. She won the Riviera Maya Open at Mayakoba last week in Mexico, her eighteenth triumph on the LPGA tour and her third victory this season. She was particularly delighted with the sombrero – see top picture. This all means she has now accumulated 23 of the required 27 points to gain entry through those Hall of Fame gates into the rarefied atmosphere of the very best to have played the game.
A relaxed and happy Nelly. Life is good. [lpga.com]
Nelly recognises she is living her best life at the moment. She is happy on the course, happy with her team of caddy, coaches and physio, all of whom are highly motivated and have been with her since her second year on tour. That’s an eight-year span. Life is good off the course also – she is engaged to be married and about to become an auntie for the second time. All of this is translating into superlative performances on the course and watching any athlete at the height of his or her powers is a joy and a privilege. I look forward to seeing her in the flesh later in the year.
This is the time of year that here in the northern hemisphere the really important part of the game gets going. By that I mean the amateur game, the bedrock of the sport – not the pointy, sharp bit at or near the top of the pyramid where you find the pros.
Golf is one sport where people like to play it much more than they like to watch it. Perhaps that’s partly due to having the ability to be a participant longer than in, say, football, hockey or tennis. I do remember attending many, many Opens (think Royal Troon) in a working capacity and seeing loads of folk heading, not to see Tiger, Phil or Rory, but to one of the myriad of courses next door for their regular fourball. Absolutely NOTHING was going to stand in the way of that.
It’s interesting, too, to learn how golfers get started in the sport. I had lunch this week with three pals, all of whom I met through the game and taught back in the day. One Christmas, some 25 years ago before I knew them, two of them, Sue and Annie, attended a grand charity auction dinner which was raising funds for a worthy cause. They were perfect guests, partaking freely of a few adult beverages and bidding enthusiastically for various lots. It was all for charity, after all.
A fourball at lovely Gleneagles was one of the lots at the charity auction. [gleneagles.com]
“What are your handicaps?” I asked them. “Ah, we don’t play,” came the reply. “But, don’t worry, we have until September!”
Sometimes ignorance is bliss. They had no idea how tall a task they had set themselves – or me. But we did it! They played the eighteen, enjoyed it, didn’t hold up the whole course and even managed to get successfully off the first under the steely gaze of the starter. It was a triumph.
Almost up there with winning your 18th LPGA tournament.
My lunch pals from the week – Annie, left, and Sue, right were the two who brought Gleneagles to its knees. Louise, centre, was a slightly later convert to the game.
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