So you want to hear about the 17th at "The Home of Golf", well sit back and prepare yourself because this is going to take a while.
"As you walk off the 16th green at St Andrews, you can see the daunting task ahead. A blind tee shot played well over the 'Lion' on the side of the hotel would leave a nice 160 yard shot to the narrow green, avoiding the inviting bunker to the front left of the green. Behind there is no relief from the tarmac road or gravel path, so best to to play short.
I was playing a blinding round of 18 over at this point, and could feel the winds shifting. This was it, this was my moment. Music started to drift in on the scottish breeze, the clouds parted and the sun started to shine. Yes, this was going to be good. 355 yards to go.
I aimed slightly to the right of the 'Lion', took a solid practice swing, addressed the ball and nailed it. Nailed it with a duck hook approximately 60 yards left of where I was aiming. 230 yards to go.
After waiting for people to tee off the 2nd hole, I found my ball slightly tee up on a lovely piece of rough. Knowing that I could lay up in front of the green from here I took a 3 iron. Not a great choice! A slightly uppish downswing placed the ball dead straight, but only 120 yards dead straight. 110 yards to go.
After taking a read from Neil, and given the confident talk of 'You only get to play this shot once', I addressed the ball with a pitching wedge. The scene before me playing over in my mind. 110 yards into a narrow green, flag placed directly behind the bunker. A solid PW would leave a tap in for my par. I can feel the club move backwards, pause, then down. Clean strike, I look up to catch the balls flight. But wait, it's not there. I look down at my feet to what can only be a golfers worst nightmare. The ball was still where it had lay previously. I had taken an air-shot. An air-shot on the most famous hole in golf. 110 yards to go.
After crying inside, I re-composed myself and managed to get a good clean strike on the ball (fat) and landed promptly in the middle of the bunker, where is was immediately joined by Neil, Nick and Matkinson. 10 yards to go.
The ball was lying fairly neatly, but the lip of bunker was telling me different stories, I opened up my 54 degree and majestically lifted the little blighter out. Yes maybe a bit big but I had got it out. 15 yards to go.
Now, I have never played off tarmac before so this was a new one for me. 7 iron I thought. 7 iron was wrong. I hit the steep roughy bank and came back down the incline. 10 yards to go
Much as I have never played of tarmac, I don’t often play off gravel either. 7 iron again I thought. Oh no, no, no. 7 iron was still the wrong club. Same result as last time. 10 yards to go.
Maybe it was just a back connection, 7 iron stays out of the bag, this time managing to reach the edge of the green, teetering on the precipice, but its there. 8 yards to go.
So I had made the green (fringe), time for a putt. 'Come on Peter, you can still get this putt' the crowd roared. Solid strike, I wasn't going to be short. 6 foot to go.
Neil gives me the putt and a hug.'
So how did I follow this 6 over hole? Yes, with a triple. Kerrching.
Pyle and Kenfig, bring it on!
