The Anti-Muny

David Owen, to whom I've previously linked, writes The Muny Life column for Golf Digest (I've always thought it should be Muni), and blogs on similar themes at My Usual Game.  However, yesterday's post is about Royal County Down, the antithesis of a muni, or even of a muny.

It's a meandering post, even by David's standards, so by all means click through and read it in its entirety.  It somehow segues from a story of exploration near the 11th tee to the Captain's Driving In Ceremony at the R&A, including warm anecdotes of interesting golf people, so do give it a read.

However, it's your lucky day, in that it just so happens that I have my very own amusing anecdote (Ed. We'll be the judge of that) from the very same 11th tee box at RCD. We played that day with two very pleasant gentlemen whose names are lost to the ages.

The view from the 11th tee at Royal County Down.  The tee shot is entirely blind, played over a dramatic dune filled with heather to a fairway that angles left-to-right.

It was an absolutely perfect day that I remember quite vividly because I simply couldn't hit the ball.  I made par on the tenth, a Par 3, by criminally over-clubbing and mishitting the ball, the one shot all day that worked out for me.  So I had the honor on No. 11, and as I'm preparing to play, I hear one of the gents clearing his throat.  I look at him and he says, "Scott, very sorry to interrupt, but I believe that Theresa is actually away."

And he was right....the ladies played from a tee box raised above that from which we were playing, but the ladies markers were, in fact, outside our markers, as per the photo below.

I took this photo after I had played, but you can see that the markers Theresa is standing behind are clearly outside of ours.

Ladies tee boxes are an issue in Scotland and Ireland, even when the clubs wish to be women friendly (it's not clear that Royal County Down has such a wish, though they're clearly not above swiping a ladies credit card).  The clubs are quite poor and often cannot afford to build proper tee boxes for the lasses.  Often their remedy is to have the ladies tee off from the front of the existing boxes, and add a stroke to par.  That's why pars of 75 or 76 are not unheard of, and it goes a long way to explaining how my Little Irish Girl kicks my sorry butt.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

And, just because we're making fun of the snootiness of RCD, it's a perfect opportunity to pull out my favorite sign in all of the Emerald Isle, from the basement of the Slieve Donard Hotel:

Obviously they made a conscious decision to not put them in alphabetical order.