Today’s Golfer UK — December 2017

26 ISSUE 367 TODAYSGOLFER.CO.UK

Andrew

Cotter

First

Te e

One event captures the true drama of tournament golf... Q School

Part of the BBC commentary team, Andrew Cotter grew up tackling Ayrshire’s links and plays off 3. Follow him on Twitter (@MrAndrewCotter)

’m not going to lie to you – I don’t much care for

November. It has very little going for it. Bright autumn

colours have faded, days are just about as short as they

can be and the countryside seems to be made entirely of mud. It

is the unwanted child of the calendar family. It’s possibly why the

Americans invented Thanksgiving – we’re told it originates in

thanks for a bountiful harvest. In reality, it’s more likely undying

gratitude that this godforsaken month is just about over.

One thing I am certainly thankful for at this time of year is that

I was never that good at golf.

Now don’t get me wrong – I could

play a little bit and hit enough decent

shots now and again. And there was

a time when I would have given

anything to be better at the game.

I would have loved to have been a

plus-handicap golfer. To have

swaggered around the junior or

amateur circuit, feared and admired

by all as the big man on campus.

But I’m glad now that I wasn’t.

Because if I had been better – if I

had been very, very good – I might

have believed that I could make it as

a player. And that way madness lies.

You see, for one particular group of

golfers, November is the month that

really matters. It is the month of

dreams and the month when they are

either realised or shattered.

This is the group of golfers who ARE very, very good and who

travel to the south of Spain carrying clubs and hopes. They are

those who have made to the final stages of The European Tour’s

Qualifying School.

It is, perhaps, the most fascinating golf tournament of the year.

In fact it is a shame that it’s not broadcast live each year because

this is where true drama and pathos can be found. Here, if we dig

a little deeper, we find fascinating back-stories.

There are some who have seen it all and who once had it all –

but poor form, arriving out of nowhere and for no apparent reason,

has seen them lose their card. Then there are those more energetic

and enthusiastic youngsters who believe the golfing world might

one day be theirs. They have no doubt that they are on their way to

the top. And one or two of them might even be right.

Real drama comes not in a multi-millionaire winning another

million. The battle for big trophies and great titles certainly has

its attraction and can be found elsewhere at this time of year.

Instead it comes in somebody who is playing for their

livelihood – and perhaps for that of their caddy. They are playing

for all those who have shown support and backing, both moral

and financial over the years. It must be a pressure unlike any

other in golf.

And it can swing one way or another on the finest of margins

• a putt here or there. That can be the difference between
  travelling the world on Tour, or instead returning to the more
  mundane duties of a professional – giving lessons or dealing
  with members trying on waterproof
  jackets, knowing that they will
  shortly go and buy it online.
  “Hmmmm, feels good... Yes,
  DEFINITELY put it aside. Let me just
  take a photo of the label which
  shows exactly which model it is”.
  When we see the very best golfers
  in the world, we are full of admiration
  
  
  • for McIlroy’s driving, Mickelson’s
    flair or Spieth’s sheer scoring ability.
    But there is something about the
    grafters that demands more respect.
    They might not be the names that
    you know too well. These are not the
    select few of golf’s glitterati – the big
    beasts who command appearance
    fees and do not worry themselves too
    much with simply making a living.
    There is just something more human, more “real” about the
    players going through Q School. About their struggle to get there,
    or their determination to hang on.
    When we play, if we hit a wild slice or miss a three-foot putt we
    can console ourselves with the mantra “It’s just a game”. Golf is
    about the walk, it’s about meeting friends, it’s about hitting the
    odd good shot now and again. Of course, we get frustrated –
    sometimes it spills over into cold fury, a solid beating of the golf
    bag and then some tears – but after a while we can calm down
    and realise that it doesn’t really matter.
    So spare a thought for those for whom it actually DOES matter
    this month. For them, golf is no longer a game and is not
    something to be enjoyed. It is work – and I’m very glad that I
    don’t have to do it.
    So that is why I wish them all good luck and quietly give
    thanks that I was never good enough at golf. Never good enough
    for the dreams of November.
  
  
  
  

I

‘There is something more

human, more ‘real’, about

the players at Q School’