It’s no laughing matter playing in the wind and rain but Scottish great Lyle
THE Scottish Senior Open at Craigielaw yesterday morning was running behind schedule so Sandy Lyle, one of my playing partners in the opening round of the pro-am event, wandered over for a quick chinwag on the practice putting green to pass the time.
“Where do you play your golf?” the former Open and US Masters champion, European Ryder Cup hero and all-time Scottish sporting great enquired.
“Cambuslang in Glasgow,” I told him.
“Cambuslang!” he replied with a smile. “Not Craiglang then?”
Gary Evans, the English professional who was making up our three ball, was puzzled.
“Don’t you get that programme down south Gary?” asked Sandy. “Great show.”
But it transpires that Victor and Jack’s madcap exploits aren’t broadcast in leafy Surrey.
It soon became apparent that Sandy, despite now being the grand old age of 61, is Still Game when play finally got underway. He launched his drive at the 327-yard opening hole on to the front edge of the green and tutted as his ball rolled past the hole and trickled just off the green.
He didn’t let the bad break get down. A deft chip and a confidently holed putt later and he was in the red and off and running. It wouldn’t be an isolated highlight on the outward half.
A smattering of onlookers had turned up at the beautiful East Lothian venue to see Lyle and his contemporaries in action and your intrepid correspondent – who is prone to the first-tee jitters in the Sunday medal at Cambuslang when nobody at all is around – was quite discombobulated by all the attention.
Lyle, who has grown accustomed to performing in front of tens of thousands of spectators during his long and trophy-laden career, was unfazed.
The man from Shrewsbury, who opted to represent the country of his father’s birth, has lost little, if any, of his prodigious length off the tee, unerring accuracy with his irons and magical touch around the greens. He still has that same endearing laid-back approach to the sport as well.
He failed to get up and down from just off the green for his par at the short 155-yard third. No matter. He reduced the 583-yard fourth, which was being played into the teeth of a brisk south-westerly breeze, to a drive and three wood in that effortless manner of his and promptly racked up another birdie.
After thundering a drive miles down the fairway on the 424-yard fourth big Sandy wasn’t best pleased.
“I was trying for a draw and I hit a cut,” he sighed. Oh, to have such problems.
His tee shot at the 174-yard sixth never left the flag.
“I thought we were going to be cracking open the whisky there,” he chuckled to his caddie. There was no hole-in-one to celebrate but another sub-par score was duly recorded as the putt dropped in.
The fans were clearly relishing a fine exhibition by one of their favourite sons. There were no ropes to stay outside or over-bearing stewards and those watching walked side-by-side with the competitors. John Collins, the former Celtic and Scotland footballer, appeared behind the ninth green and was soon enjoying the vintage display too.