#8: Muirfield Scotland and Lunch – Part 1

It was a warm overcastted Thursday morning in late summer; all of us were scheduled to play the Muirfield golf course in Scotland at 7:30 AM. There was a light rain that was coming down; actually it was more like a real fine steady mist that lasted about the first five holes, then it was gone.

 Muirfield had required that we all had to have lunch in their member’s dining hall after our round of golf that day. Boy, were they wrong.

 When I booked our round of golf at Muirfield, their secretary, Hamish McConaughey, called me back and strongly suggested that we were expected to have a Muirfield lunch shortly after the round of golf that day. At the time, I said “yes” to the gentleman. Even though I had already scheduled a single round, Ryder Cup match, that same afternoon against the members of the Gullane golf club, which immediately followed the round at Muirfield.

 Hamish instructed me that all gentlemen are required to wear a coat and tie to the luncheon, preferably a jacket that had a Scottish crust of one of their clans embroidered on the chest. Well, that wasn’t going to work, since none of us are of Scottish dissent.

 In checking this lunch out further, I discovered that the luncheon ritual requires that you sit up with a very straight back, that you eat your lunch in a very squared off manner to the table, similar to that of the cadets at West Point, when they formally eat their meals. Hell, this isn’t the military, but rather just some good old boys from Peoria that eat our hamburgers and French fries using all ten of our fingers, but I did not tell Hamish that. I think he would have thrown up.

 On the day of play at Muirfield, I took our green fees plus the extra 10 pounds for the required lunch into the main clubhouse, upon finding Hamish; I paid him in pounds for all eight of us. At that point, I thought I’d better breach him on the subject about lunch, it was about 7:00 am in the morning.

 I said that Hamish, “Here are all the required pounds that you requested, and by the way, we will not be joining you for lunch today.”

 Hamish was completely taken back by this ugly American who just refused to have the honor of eating lunch at his club.

 I quickly followed up and said, “I know that although you probably haven’t cooked our lunch yet, why don’t you either put the food back in the freezer or take it to some homeless shelter to feed someone that is really hungry.”

 Hamish barked back at me saying, “Sir, you WILL have lunch here, and that’s final!”

 Hamish now had the hairs on my back standing up, so I said to him, “Sir, I again respectfully decline the offer for lunch (not dare telling him that we have a golf match with the members of Gullane, which is the competing golf course in that village). Again, I say to you feed some of the homeless people with the food.”

 Hamish in a very authoritative response, said, “No way in hell, will any homeless lads have lunch here without a jacket or tie on.”

 I just shrugged my shoulders, looked at Hamish, and said, “It’s your club and your rules.”

 He then pointed his finger at me saying, “Laddie, there will be no refund for the lunch!”

 Hamish, I said, as nicely as I could,” That’s fine. I don’t expect any refund for the lunch and I again apologize for any inconvenience that we may have caused you and the club. Please enjoy the lunch and after our round of golf, we will be out of your hair and on our way.” My fear was that he was going to tell all of us to pack up our golf clubs and leave the premises immediately, but then he would have had to refund all the money. He just spun around and very briskly walked down the hall disappearing into a side office.

 Observing all of this was a staff woman standing in the hallway listening to this entire exchange of dialogue. She came up to me and very politely said, “You really got his tally Whacker up and I don’t blame you. Who in their right mind would want to have lunch with this bunch of old, stuffy Scots anyways?  Enjoy your golf and the afternoon in Scotland. Now, be off with you, Laddie.”

 I smiled at the lovely lady and headed out the main clubhouse door to the first tee. We were off playing at Muirfield, a dream come true.