SUTTON PARK GOLF COURSE (DO YOU KNOW . . . . . . .?)

SUTTON PARK GOLF COURSE	https://www.suttonparkgolfclub.uk/		HULL, E YORKSHIRE UK
Type of course	Parkland	18 holes
Course distance	White 6255 yds	Yellow 5960 yds	Red 5496 yds
Holes	2 x par 5	12 x par 4	4 x par 3

Claim to fame: One of the region’s finest municipal golf courses
With my local club hosting numerous midweek competitions and society gatherings during the summer, the chance of getting a round in under 4 hours is unlikely, unless of course, I change my regular start time, but golfers as I am starting to find out get stuck in their routines and a change of time would never do! My weekly partner and I therefore decided to try the local municipal in the east of the city, where he had previously been a member and had, he informed me, had his name up in lights as the winner of one of their many prestigious annual trophies. Due to local council cutbacks the courses counterpart in the west had been in fear of closure and to ensure its survival it was taken over by the members. Sutton Park Golf Course however was not so fortunate and now remains the only civic course in the city. The entrance to the park is less than appealing as an open car park set to one side of a busy local road is the only indication that something, apart from a mixture of private and council housing sits beyond. To access the course a narrow metal fenced path bisects the back of a 60s concrete building and a large metal storage container. Further on, what looks like a park keepers hut, reveals itself to be the pro shop and at £10 a round for non-members no one can argue with the costs. Waiting to tee off at the first, I recollected some thirty years ago playing golf here for the very first time and putting myself off from ever playing again. In those days municipal golf courses were busy and the only way in, to what was considered by myself and my friends as an upper-class sport. You would therefore turn up and wait till groups of confident players ahead of you moved on. It was then your turn and borrowing clubs from my father’s back catalogue I nervously took my turn only to see the ball disappear into the trees some thirty yards to the right of me. A collective sigh was audible as the remaining groups resolved themselves to what could possibly be a long day ahead. I should have known back then that I would never make it as a true golfer as I lacked any semblance of intelligence or knowledge of how to play the game. I didn’t particularly listen to, or take advice, from others and probably still don’t to this day. Perhaps that sums up why I’m never going to get any better! To extract myself from the copse, and with a friend’s advice of, “watch that branch” ringing in my ears I dutifully ignored him and selected a well lofted Mashie Niblick. (7 iron to you and me, but the clubs were old!) for my second shot. The result a dog leg club and a dog s**t shot. As to the state of Sutton Park today, the course greens are coarse, the bunkers are blighted and the fairways are faulty. Coloured markers on the tee boxes consist of a few original wood blocks, and a lot of school sports plastic cones in varying degrees of health. Sadly, it does not live up to its claim to fame but don’t get me wrong, it is still a playable parkland course with plenty of interest. The 3^rd par 4 SI 15 at 327 yards curves left from the tee box with a green tucked neatly away between bunkers and trees. The par 3 4^th, SI 15 at 144 yards has a raised green lying beyond a mature tree lined fairway therefore there is no room for error. The Par 5 7^th SI 11 at 507 yards also circumvents a line of trees that prevent any shot from cutting the corner. The 15^th through to the 18^th is also a fine way to finish a course as they all have random undulating fairways built on slopes which cause your ball to run off in many directions but none of which lead to the greens. With the sun shining down on our pates and a group of three having just tee’d off we waited patiently for our turn. Thankfully my drive was much improved from thirty years previous however with an enforced pause at every hole it wasn’t going to finish any time soon. By the time we reached the fourth a trailing pair had caught up and asked if they could join us, at which point my partner commented that he knew both the guys from a time gone by and that was that. Three players then spent the next 15 holes reminiscing and one player remained almost deaf mute throughout. The conversations taken up between every shot, started with a new name, a resumé of their family, friends, occupation and whether they were still alive or not but always qualified with a statement regarding their golfing prowess. Our two new teammates for the day introduced themselves as Frank and Dave. Frank a sprightly 89 who in his heyday had a handicap of 6 now sported a 20 handicap and Dave at 70 was a 15 handicapper. Frank had been a member for 50 years and Dave for a mere 35 and with my weekly partner having been a member over 30 years ago, they had a lot of catching up to do! By the 17^th having exchanged the names of half the male population of east Hull I thought they had tired of the banter but no the pièce de résistance was yet to come. “Do you remember no fingers Herbert, how’s he getting on these days?” No fingers Herbert, for God’s sake, how the hell did he play golf? Well allegedly he wasn’t very good, does that surprise you? Not for the first time in a situation like this I was introduced as the beginner however at the 6^th SI 3 P4 at 329 yards I was on the green in regulation and quizzed as to my real handicap and the club I had used for my second shot. Coming off in 5 however reasserted my handicap for all to see. By the 7^th and 8^th I was being given advice by the knocking on nonagenarian. My drive had veered off towards the trees on the right and I was told not to try and compete against the big hitters and as my second took an involuntary hook passed my colleagues’ I was informed that I shouldn’t let my right hand take over. All good advice but sadly to no avail as I’ve heard it all before and I still keep doing it! By the par 3 9^th SI 13 at 162 yards my composure had returned somewhat. Although my iron to the green veered to the right, my lofted wedge rolled within inches of the flag, resulting in the comment, “Don’t bother getting your putter out”, kind words indeed from young Dave. I suppose giving advice must be a golfer’s dream job as we can all give it, but few of us can take it! For example, the day prior, as I watched a four ball warm up and tee off at one of my local courses, I happily sat in the sun awaiting my turn. A young man took three walloping fast warm up swings with his driver, confidently stepped up to the tee and fired the ball 5 yards at an angle of 90 degrees to the expected trajectory. Not to show any upset he then dug out a 3 wood and drove the ball with force at the base of a silver birch and returned it to the tee box. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife, silence from all quarters. Thankfully, his next shot took him some distance down the fairway and off he trotted. As they moved away one of his colleagues turned to me and said, “the way he was warming up I thought he was going to smash that onto the green”. The all-seeing eye of the wormburner, caddie to no one and coach to nobody, quizzically raised an eyebrow and confidently said “he needs to slow down his back swing”. Affirmative nods came from those who had listened to the old sage, sat on the golfing bench of knowledge. As ever I digress and so back to the game in hand. My playing partner for the day regaled us with one of the best advice stories I have ever heard. Again, it involves a young man warming up, who stated that every swing he undertakes sees him confidently sweep the head off any dandelion who dare flower in the vicinity however when he puts the ball on the tee it never seems to work as well. The response from a wily old golfer at the time was perceptive and informative. “Simple” he said, “just tee it up on the bloody dandelions then.” With me not having played Sutton Park for many a year, septuagenarian Dave took the opportunity to talk me through every hole, interspersed with a history of the flora and fauna of the course and the compulsory “Do you know . . . . !” It appears that Sutton Park is the home of the green and speckled Woodpeckers as well as a herd of deer. Deer that are seen to bound across the 15^th and 16^th fairways in the early hours but then disappear for the rest of the day. It does beg the question however, where do city dwelling deer go during the day, it is one of life’s great mysteries? By the time we reached the 332 yard Par 4 18^th SI 6, I was flagging from the auditory bombardment and after four successful tee shots I looked back to see my three playing compatriots peering into the undergrowth. Apparently, Frank and Dave had come across a snake the week previous and were just checking to see if it was still there! I did note throughout the game that Frank and Dave never lost a tee peg or had difficulty looking for them. As the attached picture indicates a piece of string tying three of them together ensures a quality anchor point and selection of tee for ever easy. It isn’t however something that I will be using any time soon. By the time we came off I was thirsting for a cool beer and a bit of quiet time however the club house was open to all for lunch and after a young couple had asked their pre-school child for the thirteenth time if he wanted “ chicken nug, nugs “ or not, for his meal, I’d had it.