Special Agent 63

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31226, 25 November 1966, Page 15

Special Agent 63

(By M. S. WOLVERIDGE) Eight players broke 70 at Russley in the Wills Masters last year, the quality of the field was equally as good, if not a little better, yet 70 was beaten only once on the first day in conditions not dissimilar to those of yesterday. Why? The wonderful condition of the course is to blame. When good golfers can drive to fairways that hold a little, and play their second shots from perfect lies to holding greens which putt reasonably truly, the result must be a rash of low scores. I have done a bit of travelling this year and cannot remember playing on better fairways—and that includes four weeks in America. Nonetheless, I fancy one could tee the whole world off at Russley and precious few would approach Woolbank's glorious 63. A friend approached me out on the course and said, “Guess what Woolbank did?”

I begged him to tell me, and in the idiom of a certain friendly television special agent, he said, “Would you believe 63?” I looked at him. “Would you believe 65?” I still stared at him. “How about 69?” “That’s better,” I said.

My apologies, Mr Wool bank. I can just picture the late Bernard Darwin’s reaction when confronted with such news; walking away, head down, muttering, “Downright indecent of the fellow, it’s not on.”

How golf has changed from the days when the game was played on the ground. Now, watered fairways and manicured greens make these unheard of scores possible: and how the spectators love it. Rightly so, too. As players, we are here to entertain, and there can be no more pleasant sight than to watch a top-class golfer shaving a few strokes from par. . . . But would you believe 63!