[Bob_Huntley]

I wonder how many of us have had an experience, where in looking back upon our lives we find that we were near to greatness and had no idea what we were missing?

All this talk of Rye and golf has me gnashing my teeth at what I missed as an eighteen year old.


I was drafted into National Service in England in March of 1948. After Basic Training and then further education at RAF Salisbury for a few months in Electronic Warfare,  was posted to RAF Rye for service in the Chain Home Radar System. I spent an idyllic eighteen months, reading for university entrance, playing football and cricket and quite unaware of the golfing paradise down the road.

In later life, I realized that this was the equivalent of sleeping in the same room as Marilynn Monroe and turning over in my cot and saying "Good night dear" without another thought in the world.

I have yet to play Rye.

Bob

[Tommy Williamsen]

Bob, I drove from a morning round at Royal St. George's to an afternoon round at Rye without even knowing about Royal Cinque Ports. If only....

[Kevin Pallier]

Bob

Take solace from the many great courses you have played rather than rue the few great one's you have missed to date.....

An excuse to go back to England perhaps ?

[Tony_Muldoon]

In my 30's I used to windsurf on the gravel pits at Rye when the wind was to strong to go on the sea.

As a child I enjoyed an idyllic month each year at Portstwart. Boating,snorkeling,fishing, kicking balls...wonderful but no golf worth mentioning.

In my 40's cuaght a bad case of golf and for my 50th birthday planned a week in Ulster finishing with what had become an obsession -to play Portrush. Sadly on the 7th planned round of the week at Castlerock my back gave out. Could only visit Portstewart that PM to look at the view and think what if?. Next day limped round Portrush hitting it. A max of 150 yards.

Thankfully I got back last summer and played both. 

I will return again

[Mark Chaplin]

Bob,  I laughed out loud at the comparision with Marilynn Monroe - Rye is more of a comfortable old auntie!

Gordon Jones tells a good story of arriving at a motel close to Pine Valley and the guy on reception asking if he was playing golf. There were no flies on this lad as Gordon had his clubs with him. Gordon mentioned the name of the hallowed turf but the guy hadn't a clue where he meant, so called a friend who was a good golfer. This chap also had never heard of PV but suggested a great local muni where Gordon should go and play instead.

[Tim Bert]

Bob - would this be anything at all like being introduced to Johan Cruyff, your playing partner at Pebble Beach, and being completely oblivious to His place in the world of international soccer?

I think it was on the 13th tee where I finally asked hm the obligatory question "what do you do for a living?" He responded, "I used to play and then coach soccer in Europe."

I remember thinking at the time "oh, how nice."

I remember thinking shortly after the round once I had Google at my disposal "I must never let Bob Huntley or Tom Huckaby hear of my lack of proper education in football."

In retrospect, he probably appreciated that I didn't grovel and just let him enjoy his round. 

[Mike Demetriou]

Mr. Huntley, 18 months is an eternity when looking in the rearview mirror.

While not quite the same, one summer during college, I was an overpaid intern in the HR department for Ingersoll-Rand, in Pinehurst, NC. Though I'd played as a child, golf was the furthest thing from my mind when I was in college.  I only played four rounds that summer, and only once at #2, which I don't even remember.

Looking back, I have NO IDEA what I did that could have possibly entertained me while I was living in a condo on Pinehurst #5, since it clearly wasn't playing golf.  I was single, well compensated, and had a job that allowed me to leave every night at 4pm.

I will never forgive myself.

[KBanks]

Bob,

My first trip to Scotland over twenty years ago immediately came to mind when I read your post. For reasons now obscure, my companions and I flew to Heathrow and drove up to Scotland. We broke up the trip with an overnight stop in York, and played nearby Fulford GC.

Fulford, by Charles MacKenzie, is a pleasant, solid, unremarkable parkland course. At the time, I had no notion of the riches nearby: Alwoodley, Moortown, Ganton, etc.

The near-miss does strengthen the resolve to get to them someday.

Ken

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