Moortown Golf Club
Before my afternoon round at Moortown Golf Club I played Scarcroft Golf Club. As I walked down that first fairway in a misting rain that morning, I ate a day-old croissant. Scarcroft played like a parkland course and felt more American-ized than any other course I would play on this trip. The waterfall feature on the 14th solidified that opinion. But the club’s logo made up for the course’s shortcomings. No matter what, any golf is better than no golf.
I arrived at Moortown, my second Alister MacKenzie course in as many days, three hours before my tee time. From the parking lot, I walked the wrong way around the clubhouse, between the dining room and eighteenth green, as golfers enjoyed pints while they watched the next foursome finish.
I finally found my way to the Pro Shop and was greeted warmly by head pro Martin Heggie. I immediately knew I would be taken care of that day. He showed me to my locker, told me he would try to get me off early with a threesome, and directed me to a ham and cheese toastie.
As I finished my sandwich, Martin came to my table to let me know he had arranged a four-ball for me with three members, two of whom were former club captains.
As we walked to the tee, Martin and I discussed how similar the logos were of Moortown and the course I grew up on, Merchantville Country Club in New Jersey. You could almost mistake one for the other.
After lunch, I was introduced to my playing partners. My teammates. He also introduced me to the competition. There were four groups going out with a 10-pound per golfer buy-in. My first UK action! Our format was cumulative Stableford scoring.
Our team was compromised of Pete, Robert, Dave, and me. Pete, tall and imposing, had Bob Knight’s face on Max von Sydow’s body, with a hitch and stutter at the top of his swing. He oversaw scoring and was most critical of Robert’s game, who was and played the shortest. Dave had generational control of his driver but little else. However, he seemed the most knowledgeable, or maybe most talkative, about the course’s history. And then there was me, a 31-year old from the United States on “holiday”. At the time I was playing off a 7.0 handicap, but I’m not sure my partners agreed with that at the end of the round.
One was a handshake par-5 opener where I popped up my first, topped my second, pulled my third, and got up-and-down for par. The par allowed me to exhale from the pressure of being the low-handicap man.
It was not until the second tee when I really took in the landscape and scenery. This was my introduction to golf in a moorland habitat. One that teeters between swamp and shrub and grass while also having tall trees and elevated points. Seven other holes were visible from the second tee.
The first hole that really caught my eye was the short par-3 fourth. The par 3s here were all world-class. From the tee, the green looked incredibly inviting. Dare I say easy? But there was something about the tilt of the green and how it was framed behind the bunkers short of the green that asked the question: is this downhill or not?
The front-nine was full of strategic holes, particularly the 5th. Any club worked off the tee before an approach to long back-front green. After playing smart off the tee with a long iron, I misjudged my wedge and walked off with a double. My partners equally disappointed on this hole.
It might have been because of my poor play to this point, but by the sixth hole my “teammates” were “opening up” to me. Two of them expressed their confidence in how badly they would beat the Americans in the upcoming Ryder Cup at Whistling Straits. Being a week after The Open, I quipped that we often owned their National Championship.
It certainly was not my best front-nine, play-wise, but the course impressed. I loved how and where the greens sat amongst the trees and hummocks. The deception of the first par-3 and the accessibility of both par-5s stood out to me. And while we were all playing poorly, I was in great company.
Ten was the first hole designed by Alister MacKenzie on the Moortown property, following his completion of Alwoodley. A test hole, it was built to attract investors to build a full course. Known as Gibraltar, the green juts out from the land below it. The rugged bunker short, and the sloping back to front green, made this one of the best par-3s I played on my trip.
The eleventh and twelfth hole featured a golf hazard I had seen only one other time: an inverted bunker that had patterns like brain coral. The one on eleven was a little less dramatic, reminding me of a Walter Travis bunker at Hollywood Golf Club, while the one along the right side of the fairway on twelve was unlike anything I had ever seen on a golf course. Luckily, the four of us avoided these bunkers.
Fifteen was one of my favorite holes on the property, even before I played it. The steady uphill pitch of this par-4 made the hole visually appealing. All the hazards are visible from the tee, the way Alister preferred it. I forgot about American golf, when, on my approach, I played a bump and run from 80 yards away and under an impeding tree, instead of trying to go over it. My ball settled twenty feet from the hole and I made the putt. MacKenzie approved.
Eighteen was a beautiful return to the clubhouse. The first group from our matches sat on the benches behind the green and heckled us in. I thankfully made a five-footer that saved me some ridicule.
I thanked Pete, Robert, and Dave for a round I will never forget. We immediately learned that we trailed the first team in Stableford points, so Robert bought us all beers. We sat and talked golf and politics on the benches as we awaited the arrival of the final, and victorious, group.
As I said goodbye, Pete loudly remarked “well Dave, we brought you down to our level, but I’m not sure you needed help!” I could only laugh and shake my head in annoyance.
I ducked into Pro Shop before I left to buy some swag from Martin. He gave me a tour of the clubhouse and locker room and made sure to take me to the Ryder Cup Room, which had a replica of the 1929 trophy, along with a giant EUROPE – 7 USA – 5 scoreboard. I asked if it was big enough.
We shook hands and I thanked Martin ten times over for everything. Looking back, I will remember the hospitality more than individual holes on the course. This one was about the experience, not the score. To remember the man who dissed me minutes before, I bought a Moortown headcover, as his bag was covered with logos from courses around the world.
Everything about the course and my experience was right, even if my game was not.
I flew back to Philadelphia after my trip to see family. I played Merchantville Country Club several times before I headed west back to California. After one of my rounds with my dad, I told him I had to buy something in the Pro Shop. I bought a ball marker for Martin. One he might mistake for a Moortown coin. I then drove across the country with it in my center console as the Ryder Cup was still to be played. Once it ended, I mailed it off with a note. One side was a message of thanks. The other, as large as possible, 19-9.
