the short side, as was proved, they said, by the
phenomenal scores that were made in the Open competition. I do not
agree. The scores made by two or three players were certainly low, but
that was because they played exceptional golf. If I admit that the
course is the merest trifle on the short side in going out, I hasten to
add that a man must be playing perfect golf to get to the turn with a
low score, while, unless his play does come within these narrow limits
of perfection, he may find, grand player though he be, that he may
easily run up a total for his nine holes that would look foolishly
large. Coming in, there is certainly no shortness about the holes, and
there is plenty of scope for the man who wants to open out his shoulders
with his driver and his brassy, while there are hazards everywhere for
the punishment of the balls that are not kept in the fairway. These are
the chief considerations which lead me to give an emphatic vote in
favour of Sandwich when I am asked which is the best course--that is to
say, the best test of golf--that is to be found in the British Isles, or
elsewhere so far as I know, and I ask to be given no more favourable
opportunity of studying a golfer's points, than to see him play a round
or two over the St. George's links.
I should say that the third hole at Sandwich, although a short one, is
in golfing quality one of the best of the eighteen, because it is so
splendidly protected with bunkers and rushes everywhere, so that the
player who would get on to the green from the tee does indeed need to be
bold, and as accurate as he is bold. No faintness of heart, no doubtful
stroke, will ever in the result be flattered by this third hole. The
sixth or Maiden, famous everywhere, is very fine indeed, though it is
not nearly so difficult as it used to be. The eighth is another beauty,
well guarded by bunkers; a trifle on the short side if the wind is
following, but a terror in length if the breeze is coming from the
green. The ninth is good. The tenth calls for a perfect drive straight
down the middle of the course, in default of which the second shot will
abound with difficulty; and at the fifteenth another very straight tee
shot is wanted. If there is a breath of wind to help the ball from the
tee, a plucky player may then come to the conclusion that he has a
chance of reaching the green with his second, and a fine shot will take
him over the treacherous little bunker that guards it, giving h
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