Golf’s masters of laughs and barbecues
This is about as far from Augusta and St Andrews as golf gets.
On Wednesday evenings, New Plymouth back yards are the scene of minigolf gatherings where the dress code is jandals and work boots, and if you can make it through a round without losing a ball, you’re on the honours board.
For the winner, there’s a meat pack. The city is now home to four sixhole courses. On club nights, held during daylight saving time, anywhere from four to 40 players will show up for a shot at being crowned miniputt champion.
It is taken seriously. That is, as serious as backyard miniputt can be. In keeping with the sport’s traditions, the spectators are formally referred to as ‘‘the gallery’’.
The games are competitive, but as course owner Viv Treweek notes, ‘‘most competitive’’ and ‘‘best’’ are quite different things.
But it’s not really about the golf. ‘‘It’s basically run by a bunch of numbnuts,’’ Treweek says with a laugh.
A lot of the night is spent looking for balls in hedges and misplaced beers and golf tees.
‘‘It’s a good way to use the space, like no one has spent that much time in that part of my garden before,’’ another course owner, Mark Armstrong, says, observing three players fishing through trees looking for balls.
Armstrong’s course is immaculate with rolled grass, fruit trees and vegetable gardens. The holes are spaced out over his three-tiered yard.
The players are continuing a tradition that goes back 15 years, to a flat in Auckland’s Mt Albert. Someone mowed the lawn creatively, and the flatmates saw golf course potential in the result.
‘‘It just went from there and we put our own bar in and brewed our own beer,’’ Armstrong says.
‘‘Back then we had time on our hands.’’
Fast forward 15 years, they are now living in New Plymouth, and wanted an excuse to gather for banter and beers. Some of that banter revolves around who has the best course.
‘‘Mark’s put a lot of effort into this course so it deserves credit, but mine’s better,’’ Tom Roberts, who created his own backyard course two years ago, says.
‘‘It’s the only reason I garden.’’ The course owners all say it’s given them a bit of a green thumb, and an excuse to show off their patch of Kiwi paradise.
At the end of the night, when the balls have been located, rounds completed, and the clubs put down, everyone gathers for a barbecue and a jam session at the seventh hole – the bar.