nine?"
It was Frank Dyer, an El Camino member and local attorney, who caught up to Scott as he walked slowly from the grave-site blinking back tears. He stopped walking. "What’s up, Frank?"
"I’m executor of Sandy’s estate, and he left everything to you."
Scott glanced back at the marble stone for a moment without responding to Dyer.
The lawyer broke into Scott’s silence. "Sandy didn’t leave much behind. He was generous to a fault and got taken in by a crooked investment counselor. But there are some books and old golf things he brought with him when he left Saint Andrews. They’re all yours."
Scott was at the law office the next day with Matt. Attorney Dyer filled his conference table with all of Sandy’s worldly possessions. There were a few antique golf clubs, oil paintings of St. Andrews, old golf books and a bronze, Oscar -sized statuette of a nude woman swinging a golf club. A journal compiled by Hugh McNair was also in the mix. It included newspaper articles dated from the nineteenth century telling of Hugh’s various feats in golf and feathery ball making business at St. Andrews. The author of one article had spent a day with Hugh during his record round.
Scott signed some papers the lawyer put before him. Afterwards, with Matt’s help, he started packing the items he had inherited in a carton supplied by Dyer. Scott hesitated before placing a five by five inch wooden box in with the other things. He was curious about it, and studied the box for a moment before sliding the cover back along some grooves to expose the contents.
Matt looked over Scott’s shoulder and down into the box. He said, "hey, you’ve got yourself an old feathery golf ball."
Scott stared down at the almost round tan object and saw the name HUGH and the numbers 26 and 78 inscribed in black ink on the leather. Inside the box, next to the feathery, were two slips of paper. One was a note to Scott from Sandy and the other, on stiffer stock, yellowed with age, was Hugh McNair’s record score card with a few words written at the bottom.
The note from Sandy:
Dear Scott,
I wanted you to have this feathery used by my great-grandfather, Hugh McNair, when he set a record at the old course at St. Andrews in 1849.
Sandy.
The aged parchment contained the hole-by-hole scores of Hugh McNair’s record round. The note scribbled at the bottom read:
Played a match with Willie Dunn of Musselburgh, backed by Mr. Brown of Balgarvie, winning it, and scored a record 78. My 26 pennyweight feathery ball worked well in the calm air.
The scorecard was signed and dated July 8, 1849 by Hugh McNair, and attested by The Society of St. Andrews Golfers.
Matt examined the scorecard and the note from Sandy. "You might be able to sell this feathery golf ball for a good price."
Scott slowly slid the cover back on the box. "I’d like to keep it. I think it’s what Sandy would want me to do."
Matt gave him a look of concern and said, "hope that works out for you."
W hile still in the San Diego area before starting out on tour, Scott wanted to evaluate his present set of golf clubs and make any necessary changes. Sandy had bought him a set from Linksking Golf before he entered Pepperdine, and at that time he’d introduced him to Mark Breen, CEO of that club-making company. Mark had attended the celebration of Sandy’s life at El Camino, and Scott set up an appointment with Mark to have a Linksking technician make sure his clubs still matched his swing.
Scott met Linksking’s club-fitting expert, Charlie Davis. Charlie was a thin man in his fifties with John Lennon-type glasses whose hands stayed put in his leather apron pockets until they were needed. Charlie recorded Scott’s physical measurements and swing characteristics on the range. If necessary, a set of new customized Linksking clubs would be made from these data.
A golf swing analyzer called the Swing Groover was part of the
It was Frank Dyer, an El Camino member and local attorney, who caught up to Scott as he walked slowly from the grave-site blinking back tears. He stopped walking. "What’s up, Frank?"
"I’m executor of Sandy’s estate, and he left everything to you."
Scott glanced back at the marble stone for a moment without responding to Dyer.
The lawyer broke into Scott’s silence. "Sandy didn’t leave much behind. He was generous to a fault and got taken in by a crooked investment counselor. But there are some books and old golf things he brought with him when he left Saint Andrews. They’re all yours."
Scott was at the law office the next day with Matt. Attorney Dyer filled his conference table with all of Sandy’s worldly possessions. There were a few antique golf clubs, oil paintings of St. Andrews, old golf books and a bronze, Oscar -sized statuette of a nude woman swinging a golf club. A journal compiled by Hugh McNair was also in the mix. It included newspaper articles dated from the nineteenth century telling of Hugh’s various feats in golf and feathery ball making business at St. Andrews. The author of one article had spent a day with Hugh during his record round.
Scott signed some papers the lawyer put before him. Afterwards, with Matt’s help, he started packing the items he had inherited in a carton supplied by Dyer. Scott hesitated before placing a five by five inch wooden box in with the other things. He was curious about it, and studied the box for a moment before sliding the cover back along some grooves to expose the contents.
Matt looked over Scott’s shoulder and down into the box. He said, "hey, you’ve got yourself an old feathery golf ball."
Scott stared down at the almost round tan object and saw the name HUGH and the numbers 26 and 78 inscribed in black ink on the leather. Inside the box, next to the feathery, were two slips of paper. One was a note to Scott from Sandy and the other, on stiffer stock, yellowed with age, was Hugh McNair’s record score card with a few words written at the bottom.
The note from Sandy:
Dear Scott,
I wanted you to have this feathery used by my great-grandfather, Hugh McNair, when he set a record at the old course at St. Andrews in 1849.
Sandy.
The aged parchment contained the hole-by-hole scores of Hugh McNair’s record round. The note scribbled at the bottom read:
Played a match with Willie Dunn of Musselburgh, backed by Mr. Brown of Balgarvie, winning it, and scored a record 78. My 26 pennyweight feathery ball worked well in the calm air.
The scorecard was signed and dated July 8, 1849 by Hugh McNair, and attested by The Society of St. Andrews Golfers.
Matt examined the scorecard and the note from Sandy. "You might be able to sell this feathery golf ball for a good price."
Scott slowly slid the cover back on the box. "I’d like to keep it. I think it’s what Sandy would want me to do."
Matt gave him a look of concern and said, "hope that works out for you."
W hile still in the San Diego area before starting out on tour, Scott wanted to evaluate his present set of golf clubs and make any necessary changes. Sandy had bought him a set from Linksking Golf before he entered Pepperdine, and at that time he’d introduced him to Mark Breen, CEO of that club-making company. Mark had attended the celebration of Sandy’s life at El Camino, and Scott set up an appointment with Mark to have a Linksking technician make sure his clubs still matched his swing.
Scott met Linksking’s club-fitting expert, Charlie Davis. Charlie was a thin man in his fifties with John Lennon-type glasses whose hands stayed put in his leather apron pockets until they were needed. Charlie recorded Scott’s physical measurements and swing characteristics on the range. If necessary, a set of new customized Linksking clubs would be made from these data.
A golf swing analyzer called the Swing Groover was part of the
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