The Colonsay Open took place on Saturday 15 August in excellent sunny conditions.
After assembling in the Pantry for pre golf coffee, bacon rolls, allocation of handicaps and explanation of the days rules a motley group of golfers made their way to the first tee.
Groups of three teed off as the sun shone and after nine holes they were ecstatic to find refreshments in the form of burgers, a dram, soft drink and chocs ably served by Janet and Katrina.
As the sun set, the stragglers Tin Tin and co made their way back to the 18th needing several score cards in order to calculate their total shots!!
Score cards were collected in order to establish the eventual winners and the players adjourned to tart themselves up for the evening presentation and buffet in the Hotel.
After several recounts and scrutiny of the scorecards ( and disqualifications !!! ) the bandits sorry winners were finally announced..
Winner of the scratch competition was Walter.
Winner of the h/cap competition was Derek
Several visitors also won , well done to them especially Tin Tin of the 256 bus.
Kids had a good competition and we look forward to them competing in the future.
Thanks to the Hotel for the buffet , greenkeeper Phil, Archie and volunteers for preparing the course and of course the players for making the day go well.
See you all next year.
The prizes were as follows:
3rd David Bell
Nearest the Pin
Worst score of the day
Shot of the day
Phil (After the head of his driver went further than the ball on the first tee!)
The adult prizes were presented by Moira Bell and the children’s were presented by head school teacher, Gill McKenzie.
Richard Buttrick also composed this poem about the day:
Colonsay Open 2015
“This beloved and infernal game”
Upon the field of green and gold the twenty-five set out to play.
Pride and honour the measures of the winning of the day.
Each awaits the pleasure, pain and redemption their round holds
And so with drive and pitch and putt the drama of the day unfolds
Across the sun warmed machair drift joy filled cries,
Or, perhaps more often, somewhat anguished sighs
As putt is sunk, or shot flies wide, while the score records the cost
For those who trusted in the gods of golf as yet another ball is lost.
The rabbits must live in fear as balls, like Alice, disappear
Down holes so blind and dark that the devil himself would find a place to park
And I, at least, after pleading to the skies, would do a deal with Beelzebub himself
To hit one stroke true enough to rest restore my falling pride.
And yet, the sun shines so sweet upon the backs of all us sinners
As we delve into the dark arts of this beloved and infernal game
That pleasure seeps through aching joints of winner and loser just the same.
15th August 2015