The start of the sea­son just won’t be the same with­out Scot­tish Boys’ Cham­pi­onship

The Herald - Herald Sport - - FINAL SAY -

H, the spring is in the air again, mut­tered this scribe with a gasp­ing wince as I cursed the day I bought that cheap, open-coil mat­tress. With the Masters loom­ing on the hori­zon, it’s get­ting to that time of the year when club golfers, who prob­a­bly couldn’t tell you the dif­fer­ence be­tween a pot­ted Amaryl­lis and tub of pot­ted heid at any other time of the sea­son, sud­denly get all flo­ral and hor­ti­cul­tural as they weigh up a 7-iron into the 14th.

They start gush­ing about how ra­di­ant the Au­gusta Aza­leas are look­ing while haver­ing on about them be­ing flow­er­ing shrubs of the genus Rhodo­den­dron and why they tend to flour­ish in well-drained, acidic soil be­fore set­tling into the ad­dress, em­bark­ing on a back swing that was out­lawed in me­dieval times and knif­ing that afore­men­tioned 7-iron into the bloomin’ gorse.

Yes, the Masters, and all its abun­dant, floo­ery fur­nish­ings, tends to usher in the proper golf sea­son. There was, of course, that other long-stand­ing oc­ca­sion which was ro­man­ti­cally viewed as an­other of the tra­di­tional cur­tain-rais­ers too; the Scot­tish Boys’ Cham­pi­onship. Alas, it has been moved to a new date in the cal­en­dar this year and will now be staged at the end of June and into July, which will no doubt mean it will be lost amid the gen­eral frenzy of a jam-packed sched­ule.

For the dewy-eyed, nos­tal­gic golf writ­ers, it is the end of a glo­ri­ous era. Even many of the hat­tered sub-ed­i­tors on news­pa­per pro­duc­tion desks seemed to have the event seared into their minds. “Oh aye, that one with all the bloody re­sults,” they puffed as they mulled over the an­nual head-scratch­ing prospect of try­ing to shoe­horn a heav­ing list of match­play ties onto a sin­gle page.

So off you’d go, scrib­bling and typ­ing; G Alexan­der (Ran­furly Cas­tle) beat W McCon­nachie (Pumpher­ston) 5&4. But wait. It should’ve been W McCon­nachie (Pumpher­ston) beat G Alexan­der (Ran­furly Cas­tle) 5&4.

And how did you know you’d made a mis­take? Be­cause W McCon­nachie from Pumpher­ston’s faither would come ram­pag­ing into the small press room to com­plain. “Who’s here from The Her­ald?” came the men­ac­ing ques­tion from a qui­etly seething par­ent whose son had been de­nied his mo­ment of glory in print.

“Er, I think he’s out at the far end of the course just now,” came the sheep­ish, cow­ardly re­sponse from the man from The Her­ald.

An er­ror in the Scot­tish Boys’ re­sults could gen­er­ate more har­rumph­ing

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