by Peter Thomson, CBE.
Open Champion 1954-5-6, 1958, 1965

“Links” are not everyone’s notion of an ideal golf course. Most have nothing in the way of exotic ‘furnishings’ that might decorate a box of chocolates. But then, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  To some who might be termed ‘golf’s faithful’, links is the real golf, and all other forms are imitations.

To explain this is not simple: the easiest way out is to put forth the point that links golf is the highest of golf’s many exhilarating experiences. Lying, perhaps lurking, in a links, is the most demanding golf challenge of all. Pushing out into a stiff wind on an arena with no protection, needs a strong resolve and stout heart. It takes a deal of energy too.

Newcomers to links golf often find that many ‘normalities’ are missing. For one thing, there are no high corridors of trees to frame a fairway. It is common enough to be driving over a ridge with nothing but a white post on the skyline to give a clue to what is beyond. Hazards, in the form of bunkers, are hidden from sight, which makes them more daunting than normal.

Another aspect of links golf that remains unappreciated, is the meanness of turf grass. The ball never ‘sits up’. For the most part, lies are ‘tight’ and therefore unhelpful when there are problems ahead. Links turf is far different to ‘park’ grasses. It is usually hard and bare, which gives the ball bounce - something that has to be imagined and allowed for.

These items plus many more, make links golf different and precious to the game. It is therefore worth celebrating links golf in text and picture image, and this is done fairly and fully in Paul Daley’s book. The subject of course, is as unfathomable as the deepest ocean, but even a bit of ‘snorkelling’ is important, because we can peer through the medium and enjoy the ‘coral’.

Also by emphasis, Links Golf: The Inside Story focuses world attention on what is absolutely vital to the preservation of the game, in the face of commercial and professional pressures, which would have us end up with artificial turf and endless senseless smoothness.

The links were formed by nature and best left undisturbed. Indeed one only has to cast an eye over the fascinating photographs to appreciate that no mere mortal can design anything as intricate and faultless as a true links.

One of my favourite Links is Brora on the Moray Firth, where the golfers share a precious piece of territory with a hundred or so woolly sheep. What could epitomise nature better than such a communion? I pray it will continue and last as long as the world.