SPRINGHEAD PARK GOLF COURSE (A LOAD OF HILLOCKS)

SPRINGHEAD PARK	https://www.springheadparkgolf.com/
Type of course	PARKLAND	18 holes
Course distance	White 6102 yds	Yellow 6032 yds	Red 5499 yds
Holes	2 x par 5	12 x par 4	4 x par 3

Claim to fame: Famed for its tight and undulating fairways
It’s an interesting fact that you pay a lot of money for your annual subscription to the local golf course, but it doesn’t guarantee you a game when you want it. Recently I fancied an early morning start, (admittedly I hadn’t booked a week in advance) and looking online the night before I was dismayed to find I would be unable play until after 3.00 pm? Being no good to me I chose to look elsewhere. As I had recently played the East Hull municipal, I took this opportunity to take on, what was, pre 2014, the equivalent in West Hull. As I have stated previously in this blog Springhead Golf club was sold by the local council to a company who chose to take on and develop a flagging course. Due to the impact of government austerity measures the sale was to assist in making £1 000 000 of savings in the Hull City Council leisure and culture budget. It appeared on average 24 400 visitors played Springhead compared to 31 000 attending East Hull’s Sutton Park. A no brainer then. Groundwork Golf management along with the members took on the running and maintenance of the course and from my observation today it appears that the golf club is thriving. Although they do need to ensure those who play pay. On arrival, a free-standing billboard at the junction with the main road announced the appearance of Serena Williams on July 8^th. Wow, right in the middle of Wimbledon fortnight Serena Williams is coming to Springhead, what a coup! Closer scrutiny of the billboard however indicated Serena was a top-quality music act, so perhaps not the person I was thinking of. The side road entrance into Springhead takes you past the club house and into a car park that is shared with a children’s play area. Looking around there is a limited view of the golf course however post signs direct you to a small gate guarded by a lamppost that must date back to the original opening of the course in 1930. Once through the gate the view takes in a multitude of tee boxes, fairways and greens all separated by strategically placed tree lines. A pavilion harking back to the 30’s, houses the locker rooms and a payment shack. The entrance to the shack however was securely locked with no sign of habitation. Sitting under the canopy an elderly gentleman observed my mild bemusement and took pity on me. “Old Joe’s just gone to the club house he could be back in 10 minutes or an hour, nobody ever knows. If you want to play mate, just tee off, like the young ones do and he’ll catch up with you sooner or later.” Decision made I went back to my car, unpacked the gear and returned to the pavilion. My informant was just teeing off, another individual was having a private conversation on his mobile, that could be heard as far away as the green of the 533 yard, par 5, 13^th, SI1 and the shack was still firmly shut. I hung around for 15 minutes, enabling another solo player to tee off and then opted to go for it, in the self-knowledge that if I wasn’t intercepted on the course I would pay on my return. Interestingly the course is called Springhead but has a limited amount of water in the shape of ponds or streams, additionally the bunkers that exist are few and far between and shallow in nature. So, what makes Springhead a course of interest? This is evidenced immediately one walks onto the fairway of the first. You feel as if you are on a roller coaster ride as you travel up and down the fairway. Springhead is very undulating and dependent on your lye, brings a variety of difficulties for the average golfer. On the up slope the ball flies, on the down slope not so good. Thankfully I navigated the first four holes without issue and noted another two individual golfers following. At this point the heavens opened and the sanguine solo players scattered to the respective tree lines of their holes. No thunder heard, so all was good. A short intermission gave me the opportunity to take in the landscape from a different perspective and sure enough you could still see the pavilion. I now understood how Old Joe could track you down if he wanted to. On the restart a proportion of the players had given up the ghost and clearly decided to sheath their clubs. Catching up with my original informant on the 6^th, we joined up to play the next seven holes together. Dave was an ex merchant navy sailor with over forty years of service, and an interesting dress sense. Long socks, shorts, polo shirt and body warmer. Clearly, a man for all seasons. The usual conversation when meeting someone new on the golf course ensued. How long had he been playing the game? How long had he been a member? What was his handicap? All vital information when you are deciding if you can hold your own in their company or not. During the chat Dave pointed out that he had recently returned to the game after having both his knees replaced and on viewing his legs this was abundantly clear for the scars resembled an inner-city road map. Arriving at the par 3, 7^th, 146 yards, SI 17, it was one of those rare holes with a pond and sadly I found it off the tee. Dave advised that for the following hole we should leave our trollies some 20 yards further on from the tee box and take our wedge and putter with us, he was also keen to aid in the retrieval of my ball. Leaning into the pond with his wedge in hand he attempted to reverse flick the ball out of the water-based reeds. The first attempt failed, the second had dire consequences. With a further extension of the upper body and an elongated stretch of his stiff knees, Dave’s momentum took his centre of gravity just beyond the point of no return and he fell face first into the pond! I was unsure whether to laugh, cry, wade in and help him, or throw him a lifebuoy? As it was, he appeared to roll like a crocodile in the final throws of killing its prey and then planked himself up into a standing position. Thank goodness for the buoyant body warmer! Slightly wet and with bits of reed hanging from his frame Dave recovered his poise and went on to par the hole. Merchant Navy seaman are made of stern stuff in Hull. Dave played a further five holes with me and then departed after the 12^th. Probably to check that his Regatta buoyancy aide was still in perfect working order. The 9^th to 12^th are laid out in an annexed area affectionately called the field, which according to local folk lore is situated within the Hull boundary, the rest of the holes lying within the East Riding. A little difficult to understand considering the course was sold by Hull City Council. This game, like life, is all about choices and as I play this sport more and more, I am starting to understand what is meant by course management. The 282 yard, par 4 10^th, SI 8, is a perfect example of how I undertake coarse management! A slight dog leg left green, guarded by a screen of trees, forces the less than average golfer (me) to drive right. Which if you know me by now should be a blessing. Sadly, on this occasion I toed (turned the club head further towards me) in order to compensate for the fade and for whatever reason on this occasion hit a straight drive. Trees directly in front of me I had a choice, I could either knock out onto the fairway leaving a comfortable chip onto the green or I could hit a bump and run through the tightly knit copse. Choosing the latter, I took out the lower branches of a particularly elderly horse chestnut and advanced less than I had hoped. Shot three then caused me to go for a lofted wedge over the high rise conifer, again a less than satisfactory result saw me defoliate the canopy. Why oh why did I not go for the sensible shot in the first place? Probably, because as a novice golfer you always think you have the capability to hit the shot. The final six holes at Springhead arc round the first eight in an anticlockwise direction and for a player with my fade can cause a number of issues off the tee. Unable to collect a scorecard at the start of the round I therefore had difficulty judging what was around the corner at a number of the holes. The information board situated next to each tee box could have helped if they hadn’t had 90 years of bleaching from the sun. Arriving at the 10^th par 4 16^th SI 10 at 292 yards one would have hoped that I had learnt my lesson earlier however this hole proved once again how wrong I was. A satisfactory drive left me slightly short of a perfect view of the upward sloping green therefore a decent knock over the edge of the tree line would give me a good chance of a birdie. Oh no, for whatever reason I opted one again for the bump and run only to see the ball bump off a tree and run in completely the opposite direction. When will I ever learn? Finally, the par 4 18^th SI 3 at 379 yards saw my best drive of the day, true and straight. The iron shot that followed also flew well but then disappeared into a ditch that I knew nothing about. Taking a drop and finishing the best I could I then returned to the pavilion only to find the door to the shack still securely locked. Old Joe was still nowhere to be seen, whether he was out and about on the course picking up fees from the young bucks or in the offices of the club house nobody knows. As I packed up my gear into the boot of the car I toyed with a moral dilemma. Should I drive off without paying or should I enter the club house and seek out Old Joe? Choices!