Saving Mr. Calvin - Chapter 29A

by Jim Wile

Background
A story about the origin and the future of the game of golf

See Author Notes for the list of characters and unfamiliar terms.

Recap of the past few chapters: The Snog captains come in 10 days and surprisingly accept the first three formats without question. Kirk and Putt then explain the “Fast Match” format which combines both speed and accuracy and are able to convince the Snog captains to accept it by using some mis-direction with their explanation of it. With the format of the matches agreed upon, the four plus Aggie enjoy lunch together.

After a week of practice, the matches begin the following Saturday with the “Alternating Shot” matches first. Kirk and Aggie win their match, and Putt and Cat win theirs too, but the other two teams lose for a score of 2-2 at the end of the morning matches. The afternoon matches begin using the “Best-of-4” format. The Pack team easily win their match, but the other team of 4 lose a very close one. At the end of the first day, the totals are equal at 4 points each.

Chapter 29A

After a big breakfast and church the next morning, Aggie and I changed into our team uniforms and headed to the links, where we joined Putt and our other teammates. Putt and I let them know the pairings for the individual matches that would begin at noon. We had worked these out with Alex and Cameron yesterday afternoon after the Best-of-4 matches had been completed. We made every effort to pit the best players from each team against each other. Putt and I were the top two players on our team, and we decided to have my match against a fellow named Alastair McCreighall be the first one. Putt would anchor the matches in the last group against our good friend Alex.

At precisely 12:00 noon, Hamish announced in his loud but slurred voice, “Welcome to all a yuz on thish secon’ day of the Sna’-foo matches. The shcore be curren’ly tied at 4 each. Thish afternoon we begin wiv the shingle matches.”

“Ya mean they be teein’ off from atop ta roof, Hamish?” cried one wiseacre.

Unperturbed, Hamish waved the man off and continued. “Firsht off the tee is Kirk Pate of the Foosh against Alashstair McCrack… McCraga… Alashstair MacRagoole of the Shnog team.”

He butchered the name badly, but no one tried to correct him, or we might be here all day before he finally got it right, so I just headed to the tee box and ripped a long one down the left side of the fairway. Alistair followed it with a beautiful drive 20 ells past mine. I had played against him many times before, and it promised to be a good match.

Alistair was one of the speedier Snogs, limiting himself to a single practice swing and only three or four waggles before striking his shots. We thus completed our match well ahead of the next group, also because he beat me rather handily 3-and-2 after 10 holes.

Following my loss, I went to see how my teammates were doing in their matches. One young lad of only 15 complained to me that he was getting very discouraged watching his opponent play so slowly, and it was throwing off his timing. He just couldn’t seem to get into a proper frame of mind for the match and was losing badly. I tried to console him. This was his first year on the team, and he hadn’t yet developed any techniques to counteract the snail’s pace of his Snog opponent. His match looked grim at this point. This was roughly the same story with most of the other teammates I visited with.

Aggie was one who did not let her opponent, Cameron NicEachainn, get to her. Aggie was outgoing and would chat and joke with the crowd while waiting for Cameron to hit. They were clearly on her side and razzed Cameron unmercifully as he went through all his folderol. Plus, her added length due to her new feather ball allowed her to hit just as far as Cameron, who was a pretty decent gowfer, and in the end, Aggie prevailed for our first point in the individual matches.

No one else had a similar success, and our only hope for another point rested on Putt in the final pairing. Putt was quite a good player and was well-matched against Alex, who has been his friend since childhood. Putt was longer off the tee, thanks to the feather ball, but where Alex really excelled was in his approach shots to the greens, hardly ever missing one with a makeable long shot. Putt was often able to nullify this with his excellent short game, especially his putting. We were all hoping today would be one of those days when he couldn’t seem to miss.

So far, he hadn’t been doing anything exceptional, and by the 9th hole, Alex had him two down with three left to play. It was definitely time for Putt to make his move, as one more loss of a hole would seal his fate.

The 10th hole was a tricky one-shot hole with a hard right-to-left crosswind as the hole made the turn from the ones along the edge of the North Sea before the two finishing holes, which made their way back inland. Alex hit first and laid a beautiful shot down on the green 20 feet from the hole. Putt, whose normal shot shape was left-to-right, decided to aim right for the flag in the middle of the green in hopes that his normal fade would counteract the hard right-to-left wind, but he forgot to take a longer club than normal, and he ended up on the front of the green, woefully short—perhaps 50 feet from the hole. Alex was almost sure to take two putts from his much shorter distance, so the best Putt could probably expect would be a tie on the hole if he could manage to get down in two also. But that would mean he would be dormie in the match, meaning two down with two to play—not a very good prospect for winning.

Nevertheless, he decided to give it his best and encouraged the crowd to make some noise for him as he stroked his ball. They began their chant, “Putney…….Putney…….Putt……Putt….” as he took his long backstroke and whacked it. “…Putt….Putt…Putt…” and the ball continued its path across the green, “..Putt.Putt.Putt.Putt,” and as it neared the hole, the chant dissolved into the long, drawn-out “Ppptptptptptpptppptptptptptptptpptptpp” as, miraculously, the ball finished its long trip by dropping into the hole for a 2! The crowd went wild, and it was some time before they settled down enough for Alex to hit his own putt. His ball lipped the hole on the right side but stayed out. After hoping for a tie, Putt had improbably won the hole and halved Alex’s lead. He was now just one hole down with two left to play—a much better position to be in—with this remarkable, long putt.

Putt had the honors on the 11th tee and smashed a long, straight one. The combination of the new feather ball and the wind at his back allowed him to carry the ball a good 230 ells down the fairway, a tremendously long drive. Alex likewise struck his well but only managed 200 ells with his old-fashioned ball. However, he managed to put his next one on the green 30 feet from the hole—a very good shot.

The wind was gusting now and was difficult to judge. In fact, the second that Putt struck his ball from the fairway, it seemed to die, and he landed short in a bunker in front of the green.

Bunkers have become quite common on the links, wherever the sheep are allowed to graze. They are hollowed out of the ground by the sheep to obtain a measure of protection from the elements. The sheep would dig through the turf down into the sand beneath and huddle together there when a cold wind was blowing or they were out in a storm. They became a natural hazard on the golf links, and a rule was made that a player would have to address the ball without setting the club down behind it because it was too easy to make the ball move in the loose sand. Bunkers were a challenge to hit a ball from, especially because balls would often nestle down in the indentation where they landed, and sometimes would actually plug halfway into the sand. Gowfers were generally happy just to hit their ball out of one without worrying about how close to the hole they were able to put it. Special, extremely lofted clubs were fashioned just for extricating balls from the sand.

This is what Putt faced now. His ball lay in the bunker at the bottom of a huge slope up to the green, so that it was almost as deep as Putt was tall. He could just see the surface of the green when he looked toward the hole. He would need to get his ball in the air very quickly, but without too much speed that would carry it over the green. This would be a daunting task because the hole was only 30 feet away. The only way to get it out of the bunker and anywhere close to the hole would be to smash down an inch or so behind the ball and let it fly out on a cushion of sand. The sand would slow the club enough so the ball wouldn’t fly over the green, but it would permit him to slide the clubface under the ball and use its full loft to get it up quickly over the lip of the bunker. It was a tense moment because losing this hole would mean losing the match. If he could get down in two strokes from here, he would still be alive, so that was his goal.

Putt took his stance by digging his feet into the sand so they wouldn’t slip when he swung. He also aimed his body well left of the hole but opened up the clubface so it pointed to the right to increase the loft on it. Then he took a big swing. His club plowed through the sand an inch behind the ball, which popped up and over the lip as the sand went flying. The ball came down five feet short of the flagstick, bounced once on the green, struck the flagstick about halfway up, and dropped straight down and into the hole for a 3!

The roar from the crowd was deafening. Almost all the spectators who had come to watch the matches today surrounded the green for this final match of the morning. It was near hysteria as Putt ascended from the bunker, strode to the hole, and extracted his ball. When a shaken Alex failed to hole his putt for a 3, that meant Putt had actually won the hole, and the match was now even with one hole left to play.

Putt was mobbed, and I and the other teammates had to protect him and make a path for him through the crowd to reach the 12th tee. He and Alex still had one hole to go, and it was anyone’s match.

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Scottish words

ell: unit of measure equal to about a yard (37 inches)
bunker: a sand trap

CHARACTERS - 1458 Scotland

Kirk Pate: A 22-year-old house builder and part time soldier from Foon. He is the narrator of this part of the story.

Putney Pell (Putt): Kirk's best friend and business partner in Foon and a fellow soldier

Alex MacGillycuddy: Kirk and Putt's childhood friend who lives in the nearby town of Castasnogwary and is a fellow soldier

Aggie Lang: Kirk's 22-year-old fiance. She runs the Bonnie Brae Inn and Tavern owned by her father

Jack and Isla Lang: Aggie's younger siblings

Hamish MacLachlan: The Bonnie Brae's resident tippler

Cameron NicEachainn: One of the captains of the Snog team along with Alex

Catriona (Cat) Clark: One of the golfers on the Foo team

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The individual matches

A chapter in the book Saving Mr. Calvin

Saving Mr. Calvin - Chapter 29A

by Jim Wile

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