STEPHEN Gallacher called it right when he noted that a main requirement at the Alfred Dunhill Links was a sense of humour. But often it is the amateurs who are required to stifle giggles as they feast on the form a surge of adrenaline often brings, and then watch as workaday professionals see their game rather embarrassingly wither in the company of pesky social golfers, with their silly handicaps.
This motley crew of actors, musicians and millionaires tramp gaily across the fairways, while their colleagues, who do this for a living, mutter grim curses beneath their breath. Colin Montgomerie's face was a picture as he watched – or should that b
e glared – while boxer Wladimir Klitschko took an age to complete a shot.
Trouble was, the boxer wasn't even in Montgomerie's group. He had driven onto the wrong fairway, and then saw his second shot dribble back down towards Monty, who looked as though he was about to pick his worst – and probably last – ever fight.
In the end no-one dared actually voice a complaint at this intrusion, which was possibly wise. Illustrating the point that amateurs tend to post decent scores despite seeming to have hacked their way from gorse bush to bunker was the news that Klitschko had later signed for a nine-under-par 63. That said, he had received 12 strokes, and, with his build, could probably have asked for several more without anyone putting up too much of an argument.
Montgomerie saw his round deteriorate at Kingsbarns after a strong start and to make it worse, Tim Henman, his partner, and Samuel L Jackson, in the opposing team, were picking up shots with considerable ease.
Monty was included in a group of strong golfers, amateurs included. Jackson, in particular, looked in the groove. Wearing a pair of checked trousers, and a sun hat, he showed why he is described as a Hollywood big-hitter by driving the ball enormous lengths.
Often he hit it longer than the professionals, even when the advanced tees in place for the benefit of the amateurs had been taken into account. He eventually signed for a seven-under-par 65, having received two strokes. "I did my best to live up to my handicap of three," said the actor. "We had a few laughs out there."
Not all of them were at Monty's expense. To be fair, the Scot battled on gamely, and picked up a shot at the eighth, his second last hole. It was, though, not enough to trouble the leaders on a day when Kingsbarns was there to be tamed.
When the going gets tough, the tough get going, as Ronan Keating, another celebrity pacing these same fairways, once said. Blue skies stretched as far as the eye could see. There was barely a breeze. It was hardly tough, but Keating still excelled. He signed for a ten-under-par 62, or at least he did when he was eventually allowed to get to the recorder's hut after being waylaid by a scrum of autograph hunters. Displaying impressive star quality, he accommodated them all.
Henman's retirement from tennis has not meant the end of his days as a keen competitor. The former British No1 seemed to enjoy being in an environment where there were no throngs of middle-class ladies waving little Union flags at every turn. There was, though, some reminders of days of yore. At the par-three second hole, and after each of his playing partners had driven into various degrees of trouble, he visibly flinched while placing his own ball on the tee. The reason for this spasm was the shrill scream which had pierced the calm of this corner of the Neuk: "C'mon Tim!"
This call to his past didn't hinder his shot, which he plopped down onto the dancefloor with the same elan as when executing a back-hand.
Still pin thin, Henman looks as though he could walk back into competitive tennis tomorrow. Indeed, as someone behind the ropes asked, is he not still British No 2? "He's surely better than Bogdanovich," his companion proffered, as these locals indulged in an all-too-rare opportunity to be smug about sport, safe in the knowledge that top spot will be occupied by a Scot for some time.
The same attitude cannot be applied to golf, even though its birthplace exists just a few six-iron shots away. With no Scot having been included in the Ryder Cup team for the first time in over 70 years, there was some solace to be found in the form of Marc Warren and Gary Orr yesterday.
But Monty looked as though he could not wait to get away from Kingsbarns, despite its obvious beauty. "My consistency was poor," he later sighed. "Bogey-birdie-bogey, that has been my trouble all season. Ah well, roll on 2009."
The full article contains 832 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
