My Boys Make Their Own History at Musselburgh

My recent trip to Scotland was full of so many great moments and memories. Playing golf on The Old Course and making the adventurous trip to Machrihanish for the two great links out there rank near the top of my lifetime golfing memories. But this trip was so much more as all of my family made the trip at one time or another to Edinburgh to make my dream trip a reality.

As a passionate golfer, some of that passion has rubbed off on my two sons and once we had settled all the details of the trip they both wanted to know where we were playing golf. Well, I was struck by their insistence in playing as my oldest son, Ryan was at best a ‘9-hole golfer’ and hadn’t touched a club in two seasons and Tyler, my younger son while extremely gifted athletically had played so infrequently the past years even though he was working in the golf industry.

Playing with them is always a joy but with their current lives eating up any real ‘golf time’ I hadn’t planned any Scotland golf with them. But they would have none of that. “You think I’m going to Scotland and not playing golf with you? You’re crazy” was their cry. And I was glad they persisted.

So to make it even more memorable I set up a tee time at one of the most historic courses in Scotland, The Old Course at Musselburgh Links. They claim it’s the oldest course in the world where golf is still being played. 

Fortunately it was a short drive from our Edinburgh digs, a short nine holes and an early morning time was available. Tyler insisted we play with hickory clubs which we could rent at Musselburgh and while I wasn’t to keen on that idea I relented as he has been yearning for a shot at hickories for awhile…even though he had played like twice in a year. Oh well, I might as make it really memorable I thought.

A little back story on my fascination with Musselburgh. In 2016 on our first foray into Scottish golf I insisted that my brother and I head straight to Musselburgh from the plane with hopes of a quick and historic nine holes before our ride to St. Andrews. Without a prearranged tee time we were out of luck as that Saturday The Old Course was hosting a ladies championship. The gentleman behind the counter was so apologetic and offered to squeeze us in between some pairings but we declined as the last thing we wanted was to upset a tournament and be those ”ugly Americans.” I chatted with him for a bit and while we were disappointed we were happy to walk on grounds where golf had been played for over 400 years.

The Old Course at Musselburgh is an historic course with an Open Championship resume (1874 to 1889) and there is documented proof of golf being played there in 1672. And it has been said Mary Queen of Scots had taken her hacks there around 1567…before she received a few ‘hacks’ of a different vane some years later.

Anyway, Musselburgh has a serious golf pedigree and we were excited to play there. Oh, and a good portion of the holes lay inside a racetrack so it has a bit of modern day panache too.

We arrived expecting to see the same genial fellow behind the counter but were greeted, and I use greeted loosely here, by a tanked topped, fellow who looked like he just finished shoveling out the horses stalls and was pissed that we interrupted his bacon roll breakfast. I had purposely reserved the first tee time, 8:00am to get out on the course early and to fit in with our planned outing to the Isle of May in the afternoon. I think he would rather have had these Americans stay home.

But after some prodding and a few ‘pardon me’s,’ as his Scottish accent was worsened by his mouthfuls of breakfast we grabbed our two hickory sets and headed to the first tee. The plan was for us to hit most of our shots with those ancient sticks but I brought along my modern day clubs just in case.

As we all flubbed our opening tee balls and hustled down the fairway we got a good look at the drivers provided in the two ‘rental’ sets. Back in the days of hickories and featheries the drivers were called “play clubs” and these two were hardly playable.

The faces of the play clubs were pitted and worn but worst of all there were actually convex…and I mean there was hardly a flat spot on the face that could even remotely be called a sweet spot. Trying to make any solid contact with either of the two play clubs that resulted in anything heading towards the fairway was impossible.

Ty was disappointed as he was expecting some classic, tip top shape clubs but we should have known better. These weren’t museum pieces found in the British Golf Museum, these were rentals beat up by tourists longing for a taste of history and I venture hadn’t been played by a Scot for fifty years.

We soldiered on and played a mix of modern clubs off most par fours and used the hickories for the par threes and a lot of our approaches. And we had a ball.

After I had nudged the boys along to get some distance between us and those serious Musselburgh members teeing off behind us we got the feel of those ancient sticks.

Truth be told, your hands stung if you made any solid contact and Ty was left shaking his hands after a few shots as he swung as hard as he could. For years we had joked that Ry had that smooth Bobby Jones swing as he whips the club back with more leg action than any golfer in this century and that worked fine for him here.

We learned the intricacies of Musselburgh as you had to land it short and roll it on the green and putting needed some extra power to push it over the slow greens. And we knew that a slower swing resulted in a better shot..or at least one we could find.

Shot after shot we got better and surprised each other with a number of great shots. As far as memorable shots, two moments stand out. On he sixth hole, a par four Ryan had ran his approach through the green and had a terrible lie in thick fescue on an uphill, sidehill lie with little green between him and the hole. And now he had an audience as two gray haired Scots were leaving a nearby green and were a few yards from his spot. They were being polite as they stopped as not to bother him but I know he probably wished they had passed. But the Bobby Jones came out in him as he took a sharp lash at his ball, lofted it up onto the green and straight toward the hole. It popped off the flag and headed down in the cup for an impressive birdie. And we and those two Scots celebrated his magnificent feat.

I told him that he had just changed the topic of conversation in the clubhouse. Instead of being known as those “ugly Americans” as our breakfast starter I bet had labeled us, now those gents went in saying that that young lad from the states had a good game. It was so great to share a moment like that with the kids.

But Tyler wasn’t about to be out done by his brother and his claim to fame at Musselburgh came on the eighth as he drove the green and was putting for eagle. Ah, he missed the eagle but finished with a birdie to share the spotlight with is brother. God stuff for sure.

I was thrilled to play on an historic course like Musselburgh but it meant so much more playing it with my boys. We have so many great memories over the years playing golf together and this certainly added to them.

I was glad they had been so insistent on playing with their dad and so happy that they had carved out a little bit of Musselburgh history for themselves.

I know I’ll remember it forever.