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| Murray Fraser visited Art and his family in Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan |
Art went on to explain, however, that his golf efforts did "inspire me to concoct the enclosed version of the experience (with perhaps some slight variations.) This is a sort of 'first draft' that I am thinking over with the intention of trying to get one of the local editors to include it in his paper, with the hope that it will inspire others of our generation to try this noble sport."
We'll never know if his story was ever published, but I present it below to ensure it reaches an audience of sorts beyond Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan.
Golf and Me
The game of golf has long had a fascination
for me but, until recently, participation has remained but a dream. Part of the
obstacle was financial, part the distance from the nearest golf course.
Recently all this changed. I was at a
church fair and suddenly before me I saw the answer to my dream. There was a
large box of used golf-balls priced at ten cents each -- just within my budget
reach. With plans whirling in my head, I hurriedly purchased fifteen of the
tempting little fellows and looked around for something to hit them with. On
the next table I saw two of what I was looking for but on closer examination I
realized that I had almost made a terrible mistake. They were evidently errors
that had been turned out by a factory on a Friday or Monday -- the hitting
place on them was on the wrong side! One would have to stand on the left side
of the ball, which was ridiculous.
While I was standing there trying to
conceal my disappointment, a friend who was a golfer happened by. I explained
my problem to him and he said he thought he could help. He promptly disappeared
for a bit and came back with a long handled stick with a blob of wood on the
end of it. He said it was one that he didn't need anymore and would lend it to
me for my experiment. He also gave me some of the little plastic toad-stool
things to hold the ball while I hit it. Since the hitting place on the stick
was on the right side I accepted, with gratitude.
At home again, I began to put the rest of
my plan into operation. Since I was so far from a regular playing field I had
decided that what I needed was to build a private "links" as I
believe they are sometimes called. There far from prying eyes and interference
I would practise and hone my skills so that, when I did play in public for the
first time, no one would know that I had not been playing all my life!
Close to my house, since I live in the
country, there is a seldom-used cow pasture, that I decided was ideal for my
purpose. With the help of a few empty vegetable tins and some of the numerous
gopher holes that were present I had soon constructed my course. Of course
there was no proper "fairway" but I had ingeniously arranged it so
that the many well-worn cow paths would serve very well -- a bit narrow but the
better to improve my skills. There were no water-hazards (you can see that I
have done considerable reading about the game) and of course no bunkers but the
latter would be served very well by the numerous gopher and badger holes that I
had not used to bury my cans. Since the place was a cow-pasture, my fairways
were well supplied with "hazards" of a different type.
Now, at last, I could begin my golfing
career. I set up one of the little toad-stool things, placed the ball upon it
and, "keeping-my-head-down" of course, I hit the first ball! Now,
although everything I had read or heard about golf had emphasized "keeping
your head down," nowhere had anyone said for how long. When we were
children we had played a game called "hide-and-go-seek" in which you
kept your head down and counted to one hundred while everyone else ran and hid.
I supposed this was somewhat the same so I kept it down for a count of five --
playing by myself, counting to one hundred seemed to be a bit of a time-waster.
By now of course the ball had disappeared and, try as I might, I could not find
it, mostly because I had no idea which direction it had gone. I tried twice
more, once with a count of three and once with a count of one, but to no avail.
So there I was: three balls of my fifteen gone and nothing accomplished.
After considerable thought I tried again
but whether it was the thriftiness of my Scottish ancestors or just my own
human weakness that prevailed, I have to confess, with some shame, that I began
to cheat! Oh I still kept my head down but I peeked out of the corner of my
eye. My conscience bothered me, it is true, but I must say that things went a
little better after that.
"Play the ball where it lies" has
a much different meaning in a pasture than on a regular golf-course, I should
imagine. However rules are rules and I am given to understand that failure to
do this involves dropping a new ball and incurring a "penalty." Most
times I was able, with some difficulty in some cases, to abide by this rule but
eventually the worst happened and I was faced with a seemingly impossible shot.
Here I discovered that my ball had come to rest on the edge of a crow's nest,
at least fifteen feet off the ground, in a black poplar tree. You can imagine
the difficulty here: first to get to the nest; then to wedge oneself into
shooting position, ever mindful that a slip could bring you painfully athwart a
branch, with possible injury to the little birds (to say nothing of the more
tender parts of one's own humanity) and lastly, to manage the shot without harming
the three small birds or the one unhatched egg. In the meantime one is under
attack by the parents, who totally misunderstood the mission.
With some pride I can say that the shot was
accomplished, although that one little crow with the bent beak will probably be
a staunch disciple of the principle "keep your head down" for the
rest of his life. Unfortunately the ball, while landing beautifully on the
fairway, promptly encountered a hazard that was very much this side of
"dry." Not only was it unplayable, it was bordering on the
unapproachable! With the help of a couple of small twigs I was able to coax the
offender into a nearby hole and bury it.
Now came the matter of dropping a new ball
and assessing myself a penalty. After considerable deep thought I decided that
I would make myself eat my cereal for two mornings without cream! After all I
should think the purpose of a penalty is to remind you to be more careful next
time and, since I absolutely loathe cereal with skim milk, I am sure this will
have the desired effect.
All in all, I am not discouraged by these
few set-backs; in fact quite the opposite. My score, at first, hovered in the
high forties; even into the fifties. However it has been steadily coming down
and yesterday I even (as we golfers say) "shot a twenty-three." This
being the case, I have absolutely resolved, if my score remains below
twenty-five for the rest of this week, that, beginning next week, I am going to
tackle the second hole!
Art Elliott
Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan
September 2, 1996
ARTHUR ALLENBY ELLIOTT
July 26th, 1918 July 13th, 2007 Arthur Elliott passed away suddenly at the Royal University Hospital. Arthur was born in Bounty, SK and raised at Wartime, SK. Art served with the R.C.A.F. in W.W. II., then returned to farm at Wartime and Meadow Lake. He subsequently moved on to maintaining aircraft, working in Prince Alberta and Victoria before retiring at Meadow Lake and Saskatoon. He is fondly remembered by his children, Terry (Sylvia) of Meadow Lake, SK; Bob (Micheline, deceased) of Ottawa; Peggy (Bill) Graham of Black Creek, BC, Barb (John) Gorst of Prince George, BC, Mary (Don) Conard of Sidney, BC, and stepdaughter, Cheryl (Willie) Chopty of Chemainus, BC; 17 grandchildren and 24 great grandchildren. Arthur was predeceased by his first wife, Evelyn Jean and his second wife, Gene Mae; brother, Willard; sister, Norma and grand-daughter, Bonnie Gorst; stepson, Gordon Hemsley. Arthur enjoyed a full and active life, participating and supporting community activities, in particular Boy Scouts. He was an avid reader, enjoying wood carving, writing and exploring. His family and friends will especially remember his sense of humour, his inquisitive analysis of events and activities and his creative stories and verse. A Memorial service will be held on Wednesday, July 18th at 2:00 p.m. at Caleb Manor at Emmanuel Village (1622 Acadia Drive). A following service will be held on Thursday, July 19th at 2:00 p.m. at the Grace United Church in Meadow Lake (502-6th Avenue West). Inurnment will take place at Meadow Lake, SK. In place of flowers, memorial donations may be made to the charity of choice. Arrangements in care of Kurtis J. Rae MOURNING GLORY FUNERAL SERVICES at (978-5200).
