Golfers watch the birdies rather than the birds

HEART BEAT: Golfers keep an eye on the game – and new aches and pains – rather than nature, writes MAURICE NELIGAN.

HEART BEAT:Golfers keep an eye on the game – and new aches and pains – rather than nature, writes MAURICE NELIGAN.

I’m taking a week off. I mean I’m not going to write about the Government, the health service and the Minister for Trolleys, Professor Drumm and the HSE, the NTPF or any other part of the wreckage that is littering our island. I’m not even going to mention those private hospital operators who, despite losing money and being unable to repay their original loans to their ‘accommodating’ bankers, are proposing to raise in excess of a billion euro from the banks to build three co-located hospitals, a new maternity hospital and a new children’s hospital; private of course. I’ve a question here. Are these the banks that I, my children and my grandchildren will be bailing out into the mists of the future? It is time to call a halt to this nonsense.

It is a calm morning here. It is, unfortunately, quiet in more ways than one. I am looking across the estuary of the Caragh River to Seefin Mountain with the Ring of Kerry running at its foot towards Glenbeigh, Cahersiveen and Waterville. Usually at this hour the road is busy with tourist coaches heading west. These are much fewer this year. This is an unwanted quietude, indeed sadness, which, in common with other declining economic factors, is a harbinger of hard times to come.

There is recession in the world and people are travelling less. Those who venture here from abroad, indeed those who travel and holiday at home, are once more aware of an old-fashioned concept called value for money. Right now that doesn’t apply in Ireland and so tourists head for more congenial climes. We may be tentatively heading in the right direction, as finally we accept that the artificially good times of yesteryear have gone forever.

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We are not yet competitive in tourism as in many other spheres in this modern world and it is distressing to see important groupings in our workforce considering that they alone should be exempt from the general retrenchment. They cite contracts and agreements as though such are set in stone. Unfortunately for them, and for us all, such monuments to the good times are no longer affordable if we are to save the national skin.

Lord John Russell, former British chief minister said: “It is impossible that the whisper of a faction should prevail against the voice of a nation.” Is this a lesson we must repeatedly learn?

I am going to change the subject. Another Russell, this time the philosopher Bertrand, gave an opinion that the ability “to be able to fill leisure intelligently is the last product of civilisation”. I wonder if he would have considered golf as an intelligent, civilised pursuit. I am deeply ambivalent about this and about its effect upon the psyche. I don’t accept Mark Twain’s dictum that “golf is a good walk spoiled”. Golf can give you lots of exercise in beautiful surroundings and, very occasionally in my case, a sense of achievement. In beautiful surroundings it can be quite difficult to maintain the concentration required for golfing success. I offer this as a feeble excuse for some indifferent performances.

This was illustrated early in my golfing life when on a hot August day I was trudging along the 8th fairway in Dooks with two equally demented companions. We had the course to ourselves, all normal folk being at beach or barbecue.

Suddenly, a stoat crossed in front of us. I drew my companions’ attention to this. One barely glanced at the graceful creature: “Never mind the f***ing ferret,” he said, “get on with the golf.” I don’t suppose Tiger Woods pays much attention to stoats either.

Enjoying such diversions and the greater world around is for some not part of the game. They’ll tell you afterwards how much they enjoyed the course; the greens were perfect, the fairways well-maintained, the layout ideal. I suspect some of them never heard the skylarks or noted the wispy clouds girdling the surrounding hills.

Yesterday, I was accompanied by the Highest Authority and the youngest Lesser Authority to play golf on the Mahony’s Point course of Killarney Golf Club. It was a lovely day in a lovely place. The lake was calm and unruffled. The deer grazed placidly on the course. It was a perfect day for golf except that I found some difficulty, in golfing parlance, in hitting the ball out of my way.

Both of my companions played much better than I. All in all I think it’s best not to play with family. Returning from golf with your usual companions you can lie glibly as to how you fared; having the nearest and dearest witness for themselves, is a different matter entirely.

Golf makes you understand that time does not stand still. Traversing hillocks and dunes make you aware that hips, knees and ankles are not what they used to be and neither is your equilibrium on rough ground. Best you play with a group of those of an age who understand these things and play the same kind of what passes for golf.

And yes, I love it and I just know that some day I will have the score that will make it all worthwhile.


Maurice Neligan is a cardiac surgeon