Tee Times dateline: St. Anne's-Royal Lytham, 22 July 2001 story & photos by Chad Abramson

How to top Wimbledon? No problem. Mix in an outing to the Old Course at St. Andrews, followed by a round at one of Scotland's finest golf courses, and finish it up with 3 days of watching the best golfers in the world slug it out at the Open at the Lytham-St. Annes Golf Club.

Hey...I made it to St. Andrews!

The ominous 1st tee box with the clubhouse in the background. Can I have a mulligan?

First, the home of golf and largest golf complex in Europe. Six public courses, two clubhouses, along with a practice center (putting greens and driving range). Edinburgh, Scotland is only a two hour bus ride to the glorious and historical (everything in the U.K. seems to be historical) course known as St. Andrews. The championship course has been home to many British Opens including the 2000 tournament won by Tiger Woods. Two hours there…two hours back…a spec of time when I was about to see in person the golf course of all golf courses. On Sunday's the Old Course is closed for golfing while St. Andrews' other five courses are open. But being closed meant they let visitors walk the Old Course. So I did…in an absolute downpour.

The most amazing holes are the 17th and 18th named the "Road" and "Tom Morris" holes respectively. The Road hole starts you in front of the Hotel. The most difficult par 4 on the course. Many players go right over the bad boy with hopes not to hit any of the multiple bunkers. On this day the greens were soaked, but still seemed playable.	The 17th tee box at the famed "Road" hole.
Bunker on the 17th fairway. You could hide a small army in there.	You can either hit over the black wall or be safe and go to the left. I say, "Go big or go home" The most famous walking bridge in golf history is the Swilken Bridge

Moving to the once again "historical" 18th. Many champions made their walk up this fairway, which includes maybe the most well known "wee" bridges in golf history, the Swilken Bridge.

The fans roaring (well, maybe just the seagulls) as I made my way across the Swilken Bridge, with a 1 shot lead (one shot of tequila)

The green on 18 is unreal as the fairway almost meshes with the putting surface. Of course I carded a birdie and mimicked Tiger with the fist pump... then I woke up.

I imagined myself walking over the bridge about to win the Open (maybe on a Nintendo). What a day. To play the course costs about £80, which translates into about $120 and you need to either schedule about six months in advance or join a daily lottery. Didn't play, but got rained on the entire time. I walked the course known as the "home of golf".

Next, a real tee time in Northern Scotland in a town called Inverness. The towns' best course is of course called The Inverness Golf Club, a public, but prestigious course nonetheless. Greens fee's ran me £29 plus £10 to "hire" clubs so about 60 bucks. Now instead of renting clubs over here, you "hire" them, but that doesn't mean they hit shots for you. I still had to do the work. A beautiful course, but I unfortunately forgot my camera. I joined a two-some of chaps from Edinburgh named George and Hussein. They played pretty well and were actually impressed by how far I could hit the ball. They started calling me "Tiger" on the front nine which was cool, but then the usual "Chad" showed up on the back nine. The greens were as fast as a pool table and those weren't giving me trouble, but after a while I could hit the backside of a cow with a banjo. All in all, a great day of golf in my first overseas experience on the links.

My golden ticket to the British Open

Finally, the hi-light of my trip so far, The British Open or as they call it over here, The Open. Left the parents in Inverness as they went to the Isle of Skye and I took eight hours worth of train rides to town called Blackpool, a small tourist venue kind of like a bad version of Atlantic City. Many amusement rides, cheese-ball nightclubs, and plenty of gambling.

But I was there for the golf and the golf took place about five miles down the road in lovely little joint towns called Lytham and St. Annes. I arrived on Thursday night, and checked into my cheese-ball Hotel/Bed & Breakfast. I didn't have tickets to the open like Wimbledon, but I heard it was easy to get them. Friday morning. I woke up bright and early for the second round of The Open. Took the golf transport bus to the course and bought my ticket for the day. Tickets were plentiful but very expensive. For adults it was costing about $53 a day, but for Youths 16-21 years old it was only 20 bones per day. So, being the clean shaven, youthful looking 30 year old that I am, I attempted to purchase one youth ticket … and it worked! So I bought Saturday and Sunday youth tickets as well. Why not?

Friday was a day to get my bearing. I walked the course and then posted up just outside the rope behind the 1st green awaiting, who else…the Tiger. I got there about an hour and a half before Woods was to tee off. Twenty minutes before he struck his first ball on Friday at least five thousand fans had surrounded the fairway, the green, and the 1st green grandstands. After watching him "just" par the 1st hole, I abandoned the idea of following him around, and ventured out to see others like Phil Mickelson, Sergio Garcia, Jesper Parnevik, and David Duval. After his 2nd round, Fiji`s Vijay Singh signs a few autographs for his fans before heading off to the clubhouse

Jesper has a little trouble on the par 4, 17th green. Chipping for birdie... Oops…into the bunker…but Jesper, with the terra cota pants, blasted out and tapped in for a bogey I finished by grabbing a seat in the grandstands at the 18th green and watching players finish their second round. It was a great Day One with "Monty" leading for the second consecutive round. My adopted Grandma Dorthy and I enjoy the 2nd round from the 18th grandstands in the first row.

The Third Round was wild. Saturday was a blur -- about ten people had the lead at different times, including six guys that shared it at one time. I arrived early again, looking youthful, and followed Sergio for two holes, then Mickelson for two holes and found that following players was like running with the bulls in Spain (something I'll report on when I get there…NOT!)	Sergio Garcia makes his way down the 5th fairway on Saturday. The youngster from Spain played it up for the fans all tourney long.
Phil Mickelson teeing off on the 6th hole. Looks like a good swing, but the lefty sliced it. Once again, no major for Philly.	So once again, I grabbed a baguette with brie and tomato and headed to the 18th grandstands. I found a front row seat, watched the best golfers in the world finish out and, equipped with my radio, heard everything I needed to hear on "Radio Open Golf" (uninterrupted, I might add). This day ended with Duval surging into the front after a 65, tying with three others heading into the final round.

Final round. Sunday. All the drama set for a possible playoff with 22 players within two shots of the lead and Tiger stalking only 5 back. The Brits' favorite, Monty, had fallen, but the locals cheered on.	Tiger Woods at the driving range before his final round...Would it help?
Tiger putts out on 18…but too many errant shots kept Woods from defending his title he won at St. Andrews in 2000	Today I arrived at 11:00am and ran straight for the 18th grandstands so I would be there for the end of the tournament some 7½ hours later. To my surprise, the stands were almost full. But I found a seat in the second row, pin high, and proceeded to earn myself a sore back side sitting, standing, sitting, standing, cheering, sitting, standing for a long time.
But it was fun because I sat between two Brits, a Scot named Collin and an Englander named Jason. We became friends, needless to say, after 6 hours of chatting. They were really rooting for anybody but an American to win, while I played possum, explaining, "I just want to see good golf". As David Duval walked towards the 18th green, so did about five thousand rabid fans ...thankfully, I was in the stands After Duval tapped in for the win and went to the clubhouse to sign his scorecard, an excited and naked fan felt the need to show his putter.	Chillin` with my new friends in the 18th grandstands….Jason, from Scotland, on the left…Collin, from England, on the right. After it was clear that an American was going to bring home the hardware, the possum in me turned to a wild antelope. In fact, my two new friends even began jumping on the Duval-wagon. While Monty fell off the chart, Duval won the Open by three shots, setting up a little grudge match between the U.S. and Europe for the Ryder Cup, which is coming up in September back on United Kingdom soil.

An unbelievable experience as a fan of golf.	Duval holds up his first major trophy…The Claret Jug.
One more picture of me standing in the 18th fairway proving that I actually attended the 2001 British Open…."WOW!!!"

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