Moving down the coast from Nairn to Troon on Friday morning was bitter-sweet. We were leaving an incredibly beautiful part of Scotland to a place a little more shall we say “bitey.” I use that description with all respect. Although Royal Troon is not, in my opinion only, the most eye-pleasing links we saw up to that point, it is without a doubt a world-class test of golf. Just ask Palmer, Weiskoph, and Watson…three who won The Open there.
The club motto is Tam Arte Quam Marte which translates to As Much By Skill as by Strength…although strength comes in pretty handy on the back 9.
The Blue Elephants also have a motto. Ours is Mihi Primoris…Me First. You can read a little about a past “meeting” here.
Friday night a few of the boys descended on the town…here’s our squad looking like it just might be time to get home.
Next morning finds us in the smoke-free 
Smoke Room all dressed up for lunch, before our match with the Pinks.
Smoke Room all dressed up for lunch, before our match with the Pinks..
A great tradition takes place across Scotland. The match is all important. Scores are immaterial, gross or net. Our hosts looked at us a little funny when we marked and kept putting after the hole was decided…why would you do that?
On Saturday we put our team of eight out against the proven scalawags of the pink variety…the results, as they were in 2005, are in dispute. John Morrison, who never made a bogey he didn’t intend, came to the first tee announcing that his latest brush with a farm fence in his Ferrari had caused his handicap to soar to eight…hmmm. He did manage to produce a handicap verification though so all was well.
Saturday night we descended on Blair’s fantastic sister Lindy (far right) for a great party that I remember the first hour of…the baldy is our fearless leader…he’ll get his own post shortly.
A great day indeed and home to bed at The Sandhills House…heaven.
Next: Turnberry and The Chippy
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