The culture of a club is something that you can only really understand once you are part of it.
I joined my first club purely because of the quality of the course. It was clearly head and shoulders above all the many neighbouring courses on the south side of Manchester where I live. I paid a green fee, played a round by myself, liked what I saw, and joined on the spot. I knew no-one at the club, but then again I didn't know anyone who played golf at all, having just taken up the game myself.
I was given a handicap of 18 (as was any beginner with four functioning limbs) and I embraced my new hobby with gusto. I started participating in roll-ups and met some lovely guys and and some stand-offish guys. One day after a few months I had one of those magic rounds that occur occasionally and scored something like 43 Stableford points. I felt over the moon with myself and anticipated picking up my first ever winnings at competitive sport to the plaudits of my new friends.
"You fu*** cheating c**t!!!" was what welcomed me as I entered the clubhouse bar. Apparently, I was that lowest of the low - a Bandit!
If this had been meant in jest, I could have laughed along. It was quite clear however, that there was real venom behind the insults. I should really have taken heed then.
Over subsequent years, I witnessed the same loutish, laddish behaviour many times from a large element. I tended to steer clear, and seek out the company of of those that I considered more sophisticated and civilised.
Needless to say, the Ladies' section is pretty well non-existent. My wife joined another local club with an extremely dull course but a very sociable clubhouse.
When I later became involved in marketing the club to much-needed new members, I tried to attract young professionals from the very affluent areas only ten minutes drive away. It quickly became clear however, that this was going to be a losing battle. The overriding football-centric macho blue-collar culture within the club was never going to be attractive to my target market, no matter what the quality of the golf course.
My change of clubs this year has clarified many things in my mind. Most pleasingly, my seventeen year old son has become interested in golf and plays with me at Cavendish regularly. He hated the old place and refused to come with me. It wasn't the course - it was the people.
It is very sad for me. I have some good friends at my former club who are very loyal to the place. I don't know how one goes about changing a club culture, but until something happens, I fear for their future.