Letter from St. Andrews: You Never Walk Alone
We all have our golf demons—say hello to a few of mine
Letter from St. Andrews: Scot’s Honor
There’s a slightly different code of ethics on the other side of the pond
Letter from St. Andrews: Driving Contest
Think you’re a good driver—of a car? The British License exam will test all of your road skills.
Letter from St. Andrews: Beware of the Blob
If you’re going to be playing in Scotland, it may help to familiarize yourself with on-course terms like ‘stonker,’ ‘Barney Rubble,’ and ‘jammy’
Letter from St. Andrews: Window into History
Born during one of the most difficult periods of the past century, the Masters has been a bellweather of our achievements and challenges for the last 75 years
Letter from St. Andrews: One-Line Wonders
Our columnist speaks his mind on the topics that have been occupying his brain
Letter from St. Andrews: The 10 Golden Fools
The article in the Fall issue on the 10 Golden Rules of Golf got me thinking—are those really the 10 most important things my golf life? Hardly. I have my own standards and they don’t have much to do with written regulations.
Letter from St. Andrews: Breakfast at Augusta
My own record of perfect attendance began in 1976. The last time I missed a Masters, Gerald Ford was president and Tiger Woods was an embryo. But this year, not only will I not be in Augusta, I won’t be anywhere near Augusta. I’ll be here in the Auld Grey Toon, and that makes my condition all the more gruesome.
Letter from St. Andrews: Out of Left Field
Very seldom do I stray from my beloved St. Andrews nest to other parts of Scotland, but when I do, I invariably discover something interesting—or odd. Case in point, a recent lost weekend in the Highlands wherein I took a counterclockwise route that included stops at the Trump property near Aberdeen (a truly spectacular site, […]
Letter from St. Andrews: Shinnecockemamie
It’s a cold, grey day in the old grey town, so my thoughts stray happily across the Pond toward posh, breezy Southampton, N.Y., to the Shinnecock Hills Golf Club and the approaching 104th U.S. Open. And there’s a goofy smile on my face. To paraphrase our favorite son, Bobby Jones, you could take out of […]