In Defence of the Lone Ranger

Guest Author: The Colonel

You know the look; the furtive glance at you on the first tee, perhaps a word or two of greeting, and then the shuffling and rummaging in the bag, the rather embarrassed practice swing, and the drive straight down the middle of the first fairway. The bag is picked up, and off he goes – perhaps a little too quickly – after his ball. He is the Single Golfer. You regard him with a mixture of deep suspicion and sympathy. No matter what you do, you never, ever, ask him to join your two-ball. Why? Because he has clearly committed some heinous social crime that leaves him friendless, a pariah destined to trudge the fairways alone, ploughing a solitary furrow devoid of conversation, banter and joy, that’s why. Hell, even The Rules, as laid out by golf’s lawmakers, was suspicious of him, and used to grant him no status whatsoever…

“A single player has no standing and should give way to a match of any kind.”

That is no longer true, however, and in fact the opposite is now the case, the law having been revised in 2004, when speed of play became the determining factor in whether or not a group should be allowed to play through. For those pedants who refused to regard a single as a group, another revision in 2008 set the record straight; a single is a group, and has the same rights as any other.

I have a confession to make. The closest I have ever come to a hole in one was when I was playing on my own; a magnificent 5 iron that finished a couple of inches behind the hole. It was witnessed by my two Labradors who were impressed only by the fact that the little white thing moved, therefore it must be edible. Secretly I was rather glad it didn’t go in; enthusiastically high-fiving my dogs would have been a step too far, and I knew deep down that had it gone in, no-one would have believed me anyway. Another admission: one of the most enjoyable rounds I have ever had was on my own, a twilight round at the wonderful Castlerock course in Northern Ireland, and probably the best £15 I have ever spent. Yet I know that you now regard me at best as an eccentric – perhaps one with social difficulties or psychotic tendencies – and at worst with much the same suspicion as a mass-murderer.

In America they have an extraordinary system whereby singles are forced to join with other groups (or other singles) to make up four-balls. On two occasions I have played there with old friends whom I see once every few years, and been forced to include / entertain / indulge random strangers in our game. These have included an off-duty traffic cop (ironically, we had just been booked for speeding on the way to the course, and our attempts to see if he could put a good word in for us fell upon very deaf ears) and a man who could, and did, tell us the distance from every hump and hollow on the course, prompted or not. We didn’t want them to play with us, and they would rather have been on their own. Individual sporting prowess has long been celebrated; I am sure that Chris Hoy, Ellen MacArthur, Paula Radcliffe et al were not forced to cycle / sail / run with total strangers, so why golfers? Golf is after all the most solitary of sports (with the notable exception of foursomes), so why the derision and suspicion when golfers choose to play alone?

Well, it is time to change. It is time to salute the single golfer. The delights of setting out on the links unencumbered with the need to speak to your playing partners will, I am sure, have seemed attractive to many of us on particular Saturday mornings when paired with the Club bore in the monthly medal. A round (perhaps whilst walking your dogs) concentrating merely on the next shot, can be a wonderfully liberating experience; a time to appreciate the natural beauty of the course, and a time simply to think – a rare commodity in today’s hectic world. So next time you see a lone figure on the links, take some time to speak to them, wish them a good round, and know that you are talking to someone at peace with the world, someone comfortable in their own company, and one who may well be alone from choice.  Just don’t ask them to join your two-ball.