Golf n’ Around.

Here we go, Here we go, Here we go again…

This week feels like it’s gone by quicker than most, perhaps sped up by my self-imposed dry March, or maybe due to a peculiar time slip, a sudden shift in space and time. Perhaps it’s both, coupled with being run off my feet.

Now that the mornings are getting lighter, I’ve taken to sitting in bed and looking out the window to start drafting these articles. Stephen King says to find a place without a view to write, but I like to gaze out with a coffee and ponder various things. This week, I’m contemplating golf and technological advancement.

I’ve got a decent south-facing view between two buildings, across the bowling green, and into the park. As far as I can see, the trees have no greenery yet. Red-green colour blindness dulls that experience. But the daffodils are out, and right now, a big black dog is sh*tting in them. I’ll avoid that area for my Sunday Mother’s Day raid.

My son, Raph, has drawn me back into golf. It’s been a trip down memory lane and thirty years since I played. As a teenager, summers were spent at Ashely Wood Golf Club in Dorset, playing multiple daily rounds. Of the small group of lads I played with, one became a Tour pro, another the youngest club champion, and two are PGA teaching professionals. Of which one, Pete is now teaching Raph at Barton-on-Sea Golf Club. I’d not seen him since so it’s been nice to reconnect with an old friend.

The golf swing is a complex system, and observing the learning and teaching process is fascinating. There is a lot to remember. It’s a wonder anyone picks it up—having spent a few hours at the local driving range, it’s clear that most people never do! As with all things complex, breaking it down into small parts is the key.

After a quarter of a century, some things have changed. Putters are funny shapes, drivers are freakin’ massive, and the driving range now tracks your ball and enables you to whack it around a virtual St Andrews. The most helpful upgrade is that lessons involve slow-mo filming and on-the-spot analysis. Pete’s trained eye doesn’t need it; it’s pretty easy to see what’s not working, even at full speed. However, it’s a fantastic communication tool to illustrate sliding hips and a moving head.

But this re-introduction to the world of golf has made me think about the logistics of playing golf in 1990 rather than the game itself. How did we all turn up simultaneously at our course or some other place in Dorset, Wiltshire or Somerset? And how did we find the courses? We didn’t have each other’s numbers, and there was no email or texting.

In recent years, driving around Dorset, I have passed golf clubs that have jogged my memory. ‘Oh, I played there. How on earth did I find it?’ Pete and I once went to Burnham and Berrow Golf Club on the Somerset coast to play in a tournament. We set off in his Cortina—no blue line to follow. I presume we had a map, but I don’t remember one. We probably asked our Dad’s. Took some rudimentary instructions and followed the signs.

On the way to Edinburgh recently, the train stopped at Newcastle. I’d been there once, in 1995. I drove there with a friend and stayed with another friend, Russell, who was at the University. I am still mystified how we knew where he lived and how it all worked pre-smartphone. I was not in regular contact with him, and I doubt he had a landline in a grotty Geordie student house in the mid-90s. It was a walk to the phone box for one brief phone call.

‘Hello, mate; Paul and I are coming to look at the Byker Wall for our thesis. Can we stay with you?’
‘Yeah, sure. When you coming?’
‘Next Sunday’
‘Great, my address is 24 Rokesly Avenue.’

Some description would have followed about where Rokesly Avenue was, but that would have been it. It worked. Clearly, some technologies we never really needed. The SatNav app is one of them. There is a long list of techie app things we take for granted now that complicate matters. I’ve discovered that turning your heating on and off with an app is not as good as a switch on the wall. If I had my way, I’d keep YouTube, podcasts, online banking, Loom, and email and ban everything else. Amazon, whilst incredibly useful, is a race to singularity.

Reflecting on my journey back into the world of golf and through the annals of pre-digital navigation, I’m struck by the paradox of progress. While technology has enriched our lives, enabling feats from virtual golfing to instantaneous communication, it’s also dulled some of our basic instincts and skills. Navigating without GPS, coordinating without phones, and even golfing without high-tech aids required ingenuity and interpersonal connection that have been eroded.

Perhaps, in this age of information overload and digital dependency, there’s value in revisiting and preserving some of these ‘old-school’ skills—not for nostalgia’s sake but for the depth and resilience they add to our character.

While we still have access to the internet, this week’s web links include a must-watch economist, a crazy advertising executive, small cities to visit, and something to put in your air fryer.

Feel free to let me know if you have any comments or suggestions. You will always find me at carl@carlarchitect.co.uk.

This Week’s Links:

Now, this guy is an absolute must watch. Gary Stevenson, a former city trader, is now an author and YouTuber of inequality economics. James O’Brien is a bit of a tit in my book, but he does a good job of getting to the point with Gary in this interview. A second interview, which is perhaps a bit better, is on the PoliticsJOE channel.

Gary Stevenson‘s YouTube channel.

Chris Williamson. How did a guy from Love Island get to interview so many interesting people? This is a great podcast, and a recent guest, advertising guru Rory Sutherland, is worth a listen.

Seven compelling alternatives to Europe’s biggest cities.

Oh, and I’d keep the House and Garden website, too—ten bathroom layout ideas.

If you want a bathroom designed and priced I highly recommend contacting Ed Wallis at Littlejohn’s in Petersfield.

I need an air-fryer for this one. It might be enough to make me invest.

Peter Rodgers: This is the place for golf lessons or equipment.

Main image credit: West country golf course hunting. (DALL-E)