A Course Called Ireland: A Long Walk in Search of a Country, a Pint, and the Next Tee

by Tom Coyne

Grade: A
Teacher’s Comments: A thoroughly pleasant travelogue.

Tom Coyne has to be either the luckiest man in the world, the most self indulgent or the most audacious.

After spending two years chasing the quixotic dream of becoming a Tour pro (detailed in Paper Tiger), Coyne takes off on another mad golfing fantasy—this time to walk the perimeter of Ireland, playing every golf course along the way. By journey’s end, Coyne spent sixteen weeks walking more than 600 miles and playing fifty-six different courses for a total 990 holes. If an addict can be said to have overdosed on golf, it’s Coyne. He played more golf in those four months than most weekend hackers will play in a decade.

In the final analysis, I vote for audacious, for it takes a sort of mad genius to even conceive of such a plan. It’s the golf equivalent of Hillary’s Everest expedition, of Roosevelt’s trip down the River of Doubt, or Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon Tiki. It’s a publicity stunt worthy of PT Barnum.

And it makes for a fine read. A Course Called Ireland is a light hearted excursion, full of humorous moments and keen observations of both golf and life in Ireland.

Fortunately, Coyne avoids the temptation to tell the reader about every one of those thousand holes. There’s nothing more boring than the guy at the bar telling you about every hole—every shot—of his last round. Instead, offers highlights, describing the courses in general, and perhaps one or two noteworthy holes. Coyne actually is quite good at this, easily evoking images of the wind (and rain) swept Irish links.

I want to go to Ireland to play tomorrow. The Irish Tourist board owes Coyne some money for his book length travel advertisement.

Ironically, it’s not the golf that I’ll remember the most. Instead, it’s the trip itself that I found most fascinating. Coyne writes about the roads, the towns, the pubs, the food, the bread-and-breakfastes, shops, dogs, sheep and mostly, the people. Ireland is apparently a rapidly changing society,with remnants of the 18th century living alongside elements of the 21st. There are also bits about family ties to Ireland, and previous visits with his father.

Coyne’s accounts of the details of his long walk are fun. I laughed at his gamy Keen shoes (I have the same pair of Keen hiking boots shown in the photo), his backpacking, (as an Eagle Scout, I have done my fair share of backpacking), and the various hiking issues he faced —blisters, sore muscles, chafing bits and so on.

Coyne also gets a good deal of mileage out of the various companions who joined him for parts of his trip, and of their different approaches to his epic journey. I’ve heard it said that you really get ot know a fellow when you travel together on a golf trip. In Coyne’s case, the extreme nature of his travels revealed character very quickly.

For several legs of the trip, Coyne was joined by his wife Allyson. She’s an interesting character, always on the periphery of the story, but only making brief appearances. I fouind myself wondering, though: What kind of a woman puts up with this sort of foolishness? First he spends two years chasing the PGA Tour dream, and then he takes off for Ireland. I don’t know many wives who would put up with that.

I have just two complaints about the book. The first is that it’s a little too long. At several points, it became tedious (and I can only imagine how it was for him): another road, another links course. Coyne always managed to bring it back wiht a humorous anectdote, but I think a little less would have been more.

Second, the photos of the trip in the middle of the book are horribly reproduced—something I’ve seen in several books lately. If a publisher is going to offer photos, it should take care to ensure that they’re worth viewing. Otherwise, leave them out of the volume.

Recommended.

In the mail: And God Said, “Tee It Up!”: Amusing and Thought-Provoking Parallels Between the Bible and Golf

Review coming.

Chris Collins has recently started a site featuring his golf novel, Golf In The Field of Time. He’ll release two chapters of the book each week.

The next best thing to playing golf is reading about it.

Television is a weak third.

Mrs. GolfBlogger and I were shopping at Ikea on Monday and I spied this book in a display case.

A quick search on the ‘net, with help from a Google translation shows that it’s an anthology of golf writing and anecdotes. The back cover of the book mentions Bobby Jones, James Bond, Agatha Christie, Winston Churchill, Mark Twain, Sam Snead, Peter Aliss, and Seve Ballesteros. Quite a collection.

The Edict: A Novel from the Beginnings of Golf (Vintage)

Grade: B+
Teacher’s Comments: A good novel, but for one jarring chapter

In The Edict, golf architect Bob Cupp builds a story around a singular historical oddity: King James’ 1457 ban of the sport of golf from Scotland.

It’s hard to say exactly what the novel’s about. There’s a golf match; a love story; a crooked land deal; a wager gone bad; political intrigue; and a couple of action scenes. It’s a clever story and a far cry from the more pedestrian and usual run of golf mysteries and fantasies.

The Edict is a pleasant read, and Cupp shows some skill as a writer. The characters are nicely drawn, and the story well plotted. The book also is enhanced by some very nice line drawings.

If the novel has a failing, it’s a rather jarring chapter called “The Players” in which Cupp not-so-cleverly draws parallels between those ancient Scotsmen and more modern golfers. He proceeds as if making a roll call: The Dandy; The Blacksmith; The Wee Ice Mon; The Blonde; The Natural; The Highlander and so on. Here’s his description of “The Blonde.”

“Nectan had beaten all comers since he was eleven, mostly because he was even at that tender age to launch the ball prodigious distances; he reached the longest of holes in two shots, and on the fair greens he literally willed the ball into the hole. Slightly taller than most, he had the cherubic good looks of a big farm boy, with powerful legs and an almost chunky waistline but surprisingly small hands.”

And the Dandy:

“He was always dressed to the nines, like an earl, and often showed up for matches in a splendid carriage, still dressed for his festivities of the previous night.”

The Edict would have been a better work if all of this had simply been left out.

But that’s a small failing in a book that, overall, was very good.

The New Yorker Book of Golf Cartoons (New Yorker Book of Cartoons)

New Yorker magazine is justifiably famous for its cartoons, and in this volume, the editors have collected the best of their golf-themed works. It features works by Charles Addams (yes, THAT Charles Addams), Peter Arno, George Booth, Roz Chast, Edward Koren, and William Steig. They’re good for a lot of laughs—something sorely missing these days.

Grounds for Golf: The History and Fundamentals of Golf Course Design
By Geoff Shackleford

Grade: B+
Teacher’s Comments: An informative analysis of golf architecture that’s primarily for the serious golfer.

“Every golfer worthy of the name should have some acquaintance with the principles of golf course design, not only for the betterment of his game, but for his own self enjoyment” - Bobby Jones

There’s probably an armchair course designer in every serious golfer. We’ve seen enough courses to be able to distinguish between good and bad. We’ve thought seriously about the design of various holes because it helps to improve our games. We replay favorite tracks in our minds. And I don’t think I’m alone in sometimes doodling hole designs on scraps of paper.

I will also confess to having spent way too much time designing courses on various computer golf games.

Geoff Shackeford wants to encourage that sort of thinking. In Grounds For Golf, the golf writer and internet impresario offers readers a solid introduction to golf course design. Through eighteen chapters (no coincidence, there) Shackleford covers design fundamentals, course design history, the differences between various schools of thought, great designers, course maintenance, and various elements that Shackleford believes make a great golf hole.

Shackleford encourages his readers to “daydream” holes as they play. He wants players to imagine what the designer had in mind, much as museum goers speculate on the meaning of various works of art.

It’s not all an esoteric pursuit, though. Understanding the role of various design elements, and correctly deciphering the options presented by the designer can lead to lower scores.

In analyzing courses, Shackleford’s preferences tend toward the “naturalistic” designs, where fairways, greens, bunkers and other elements look as though they were teased from the landscape, rather than carved by a bulldozer. He also prefers holes that offer a variety of strategic options, and generally denigrates the straightforward real estate development courses in the same way that real baseball fans deride the cookie-cutter stadiums of the 1970s.

I think it’s hard to argue with either of those two points.

Grounds for Golf is replete with black and white line drawings of holes, which Shackleford uses to illustrate his arguments. Less interesting are the too-dark black-and-white photographs of holes.

At its best, the book made me examine elements of golf course design that I hadn’t really considered. I particularly enjoyed the chapter on the injection of humor into golf course design. As Shackleford began to describe the characteristics of a “humorous” golf hole, I immediately thought of the sixth at the University of Michigan’s Alistair MacKenzie designed golf course. And sure enough, on the very next page, Shackleford used as an example that hole’s meandering, multi-tiered green.

I give this book a B+ only because I think it’s audience is confined to the serious golfer. Most weekend hackers, or those who play the same course over and again during their league meets won’t find this one as meaningful or interesting.