09-26-2008
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#49 (permalink) | |||
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gotta have it
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Southern, CT
Posts: 910
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09-28-2008
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#50 (permalink) |
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añejo
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: southern US
Posts: 1,538
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Just caught up. WOW. How fantastic the sun came out. Good thing I wasn't there, or it would have been foggy and raining.
 And your impromptu Irish karaoke...how cool. (I like to get by myself at times, too. Clears the cobwebs, so to speak) |
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09-29-2008
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#52 (permalink) |
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gotta have it
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Southern, CT
Posts: 910
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Lahinch. How does one describe a round at Lahinch Golf Club on the Atlantic coast of Ireland? I know most of you reading this are not golfers, so I will try to keep things to a minimum, but I could write a book. First let me preface my remarks; I come from a golf household- mainly because my Dad has always been obsessed with the game. My father was an only child and my grandmother was VERY overprotective- he was denied many of the joys of childhood that we all take for granted such as learning how to ride a bike or swim, but he was allowed out on the golf course with my Grandfather. As a result the game is in his blood and much of my free time growing up revolved around golf. My family never really travelled internationally on vacations because most of our trips were to places like Hilton Head, Palm Springs and Amelia Island in Florida or to PGA tournaments like The Masters or The Heritage Classic. Vacations usually consisted of 36 holes a day on the course with my Dad and brother before going out to dinner with the rest of the family (my Mom and sister had no desire to learn the game, so while we played, they went to the beach- I was often jealous of them) So, as a result of my Dad’s lust for the game, I have seen and played on some of the most beautiful golf courses in the United States- that being said, I’ve NEVER even come close to my experience at Lahinch. THIS was golf.
Lahinch was built in 1892 and then redesigned by Old Tom Morris in 1894, the same architecht who designed St Andrew’s in Scotland which is considered the birthplace of the game- in fact Lahinch is referred to as “The St Andrews of Ireland”. Morris was actually the guy who standardized golf as being 18 holes- before that courses were of various length (St Andrew's being 23 until Morris redesigned it) Then in 1927 Dr. Alister MacKenzie redesigned Lahinch. MacKenzie is one of the best course designers of all time- having also designed Pebble Beach, Agusta National and Cypress Point among others. Back in 1892 there were no bulldozers or earth movers so the course is laid out as the terrain dictates. As you pull into the funky surfing village of Lahinch you notice these huge rolling green hills close to the beach- mounds of earth over 100 ft in height- it’s a beautiful spectacle with the beach and ocean contrasting against it, then you realize that’s the golf course. Now as I’ve said, my Dad is a rabid golfer and he knows the PGA and U.S. courses like an encyclopedia, but International golf is a mystery to him and he never really studied the courses because he never really considered going to play them before this trip. While Lahinch is considered one of the top five courses in Ireland and one of the best in the world, it does not have the name recognition of a Ballybunion or St Andrews or a K-Club because no major tournaments have been held there in over 30 years- as you approach the course you begin to understand why this is the case. “Is this a municipal course?” my Dad asked me as we pulled up in the car. The small understated clubhouse and tiny parking lot do not give you the impression that you are about to play one of the most historic and amazing golf courses in the world. Lahinch wasn’t built to accommodate the large galleries and fleets of cars that a major tournament would need- which is the main reason a major tournament has not been held there. “No Dad, this is Lahinch, just wait” I said. Lahinch and Ballybunion do not allow golf carts and considering my father is now 70, that’s something I had to take into consideration. Without the option of a cart it was clear that we would need a caddy- nevermind taking the load of carrying a golf bag for 18 holes (which averages out to about a 4-5 mile walk) I had a feeling that we were gonna need a local who knew the course to show us around so I emailed the course weeks in advance and requested one for us. Best decision I ever made. My Mom and sister dropped us off at the course and I went inside to check us in, they gave me a course guide and score card and told us to check in with the caddymaster down by the pro shop. While my Dad scarfed down a sandwich for some energy on the course- I checked in with the caddymaster and he introduced us to our caddy- a 30yr old local man named Freddy who had a smile on his face and a firm handshake. Freddy told us we had two groups in front of us who were about to tee off, then it would be us. No range, so no practice shots- we’d be teeing off cold. We were introduced to the one other guy who we’d be playing with- his name was Chris and he was a surgeon from Toronto, it was his last day on vaca with his wife, a nice guy. While my Dad is an avid golfer, he’s also an anti-social golfer for the most part. He goes to his course, hits shots on the range, goes out on the course alone and then head s home- he’s kinda the Howard Hughes of his club. Concequently he’s got this irrational fear of playing with and in front of others. He wasn’t always this way, just since he’s retired and gotten older- he doesn’t hit the ball as far as he used to so he’s got this irrational inferiority complex. I tell him over and over again “Dad, I play public courses with all kinds of golfers, especially senior golfers and I’m telling you, you’ve got one of the better games for a 70 yr old I’ve seen.” It all falls on deaf ears. So while my Dad was looking forward to the round, I could also tell he was nervous. As you saw from what I wrote about the Cliffs of Moher, it was a beautiful day- sunny and in the mid-60s, but even on an ideal day the wind was still a steady 25mph off the ocean. The starter came over to us to tell us we were next up- my Mom snapped this pic of us on the first tee and then we hit our shots- both my Dad and I surprisingly shrugged off the 1st tee jitters and made good contact safely putting our shots out on the fairway- it was very deceiving. Here's the three of us on the 1st tee-  I know, I’ve already gone into too much detail so I won’t bore you with every insight into the golf course except to say that again, it was amazing and I’ve never seen anything like it. Blind tee shots and approach shots, bunkers so deep that you had to pop your ears when you climbed out and dunes…oh man, the dunes- they were everywhere, they defined the golf course and lined every fairway, they were HUGE and they were covered in thigh-high tall grass that if you ended up in you could only hack out a few yards and pray for the best. 140 yrd par 3s became equal to 195 yrds when facing the wind and the wind also affected all your putts. At the same time, it was BEAUTIFUL. Holes lined the beach and the Shannon river with surfers bobbing in the waves in the distance. I kept score, but it was very much an afterthought- this was an experience, not just a round of golf, and I wanted to take it all in. Like I said, I won’t go into too much detail on every hole, but if you’ll indulge me, I will describe one hole- the 4th hole- a par 5, 475 yrds named “The Klondike” On the 4th hole you tee off with the ocean behind you onto a fairway that is about as wide as a high school hallway- no exaggeration. It’s not as penal as you would think considering there’s a 70 ft tall dune lining each side of the fairway to bring errant shots back down to the fairway. Strange enough, but then there's also a 40ft tall dune right in the middle of the fairway, 310 yards from the tee. Freddy told me to keep the driver in the bag so I hit a 5-wood about 230-235 yrds into the fairway. When I arrived at the shot Freddy told me to once again grab the 5-wood and he would go stand on top of the dune and tell me where to aim my shot. There was one white painted rock on top of the dune that was supposed to tell you where to aim, but Freddy told me to watch him instead. It didn't matter. Not to make excuses, of course, but it was a Sunday and the course was full and while golf in Ireland is usually played at a much faster pace than in the states, not on this day. So I waited in the fairway, for what seemed forever, for Freddy to give me the OK to hit away. Finally Freddy waved and I approached my shot, I felt good over it, but my gut betrayed me and I duffed it, hard core. A line drive worm-burner shot off my club and buried into the long rough at the base of the dune in the middle of the fairway 80 yards away. "If it was wrapped in bacon Lassie couldn't find that one!" Freddy bellowed down the fairway. I walked up and was suprised to find my ball, bruried deep in the long stuff. When I addressed the shot I looked at what seemed like directly above to Freddy still standing atop the dune- this was no gradual dune, it was almost vertical. Freddy said "Ya think ya can handle a 9?" I told him he knew better than I and he once again stood where he wanted me to hit it. With my left foot about three feet above my right foot, I took my awkward stance and hacked away at my ball which was buried deep in the rough. As soon as I hit it I fell backward and landed right on my ass in the fairway- I was sure it was only a few feet ahead in the rough once again- even if it did get over the dune I still had about 160 yards to the green. But as I shook off the fall and looked up all I saw was Freddy looking beyond the otherside of the dune, cursing at my ball "Go! Go ya fuker! Run like a screamin' pussy!" He then turned to me and said "Yer 15 feet from the hole" with a big grin on his face. Damn, this was fun. It took my Dad and I about 4-5 holes to get loose and comfortable. Freddy was a salt of the earth kinda guy who helped make for an incredible day. He was a 1-handicap semi-pro player himself and could have easily put us all to shame but he was a true asset, we would have been lost in so many ways without him. We hit our tee shots off the 18th and I walked down the fairway with my Dad talking as we went and taking in the late afternoon sunshine and ocean breeze- we'd been playing golf together for over thirty years, but this would go down as one of the best, most special days in our lives, no doubt. As we walked I noticed Freddy veered off to find my Dad's tee shot which seemed headed into the right rough off the tee- I looked over my Dad's shoulder and noticed Freddy walk down into a fairway bunker and toss a golfball out and into the rough. My Dad then said to me "I better go find my ball" and turned around to where Freddy was standing right next to the ball he tossed out of the bunker and said "Yer right over here sir" I laughed immediately and after giving my Dad his club Freddy walked over to me and said "I didn't want him hittin' out of a bunker on his last hole here." I laughed again and patted Freddy on the back. We finished 18 and Mom and Kelly awaited and we headed into town for dinner- Freddy had called from the course and made dinner reservations for us at The Shamrock when I had asked him if he could reccommend a restaurant. As we drove into town rain began to fall and fell steady for the next two hours. Dinner was all smiles as we sat in the window table of the restaurant and recounted the round, told stories of the course and Freddy and watched the rain fall. A pint of Guinness and some Irish stew completed one of the most satisfying and enjoyable days I've had in years before we headed back to Adare in the night rain. The first tee at Lahinch-  A fairway "bunker" on the 7th hole- I wish I had someone stand in the bunker for perspective because it's about 40 ft deep- it's like a comet landed in the fairway-   The funky surfing town of Lahinch from the 5th tee-  Pops hitting his tee shot into "Priest's Bunker" where a member once took 23 shots to get out-  Back nine par 5 along the river at Lahinch w/ruins and the bridge in the distance-  
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more cowbell! Last edited by Jimmy-James; 10-02-2008 at 04:59 PM.. |
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09-30-2008
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#53 (permalink) | |
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gotta have it
Join Date: Jan 2002
Location: Southern, CT
Posts: 910
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09-30-2008
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#54 (permalink) | |
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character encapsulator
  Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Texas
Posts: 32,808
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if that happens, try hitting "go advanced" and then hitting "save changes"...usually that overrides the glitch LOVE the golf pics, but wow, that course is the scariest thing I've ever seen and I don't even play golf... although I have apparently walked part of St Andrews, being as we lived there for a couple of years when I was a wee one.... |
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10-01-2008
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#57 (permalink) |
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añejo
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: southern US
Posts: 1,538
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I'm going to corner my husband and strap him down to read this. But I know once he starts reading he'll understand the "golf" parley and just go with it!
I can see why they call Ireland the "Emerald Isle", it's sooooo green. Gorgeous! |
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) This would be a great trip for them to make.
