I was fortunate to meet WillieB the previous year when he met us on Islay for a round at The Machrie, followed by a hop over to South Uist to play Askernish. He was delighted as in all his years; he had never been to that outer Island in the Hebrides. What an incredible wealth of knowledge he has about the game, and its history. How could he help it, having learned the game as a young lad from none-other than Henry Cotton.

With a beaming, kind smile and soft very slight Brogue, he looks as if he could have been a member of the Rat Pack. A Scottish counterpart to Peter Lawford. He exuded the charm of Peter O’Toole and confidence and charisma of Sean Connery--one of his fellow Countryman. He was ordained with the gift of gab and could simultaneously entertain an entire cocktail party on his own.

He is a member of many great clubs on both sides of the Atlantic including Prestwick and Royal Troon, and Pine Valley and Merion in the States, among others. He was kind enough to set us up at Prestwick the day before and we were discussing the highlights.

“Be sure not to forget your coat & tie,” he told us about a month before the trip, “you’ll be having lunch in the main dining room.”

He greeted us the day before (a Sunday) in front of the clubhouse.

“Great to see you, Old Tam, you’re looking well.”

“Wille B, can’t believe it’s been a year, and so glad to see you again,” I said. “I’m so grateful to you for setting this up for us, I feel like I’m walking on hallowed ground!”

“You guys picked a glorious day,” WillieB jumped in. Let’s get you set-up with lockers and I’ll introduce you to your caddies.”

He made sure to introduce me to David Fleming, the Head Professional, who we would chat with after our round—he was exceptionally welcoming and wanted to make sure we had a fun time.

I settled in the locker room, then about 5 minutes later, Scooter and Sam joined me. They had met WillieB out at the entrance.

“I walked into the lobby just off the 1st tee,” Scooter explained. “He put his hand out, and with a firm shake and a big smile he introduced himself.”

“William Brian Morrison.”

“Scooter Flaherty, good to meet you WilleB,” Scooter smiled back.

“I like your shoe bag. Just played there last week,” said WillieB, spotting the Pine Valley logo.

“Had my first heart attack after I played Pine Valley the first time!” Scooter said. They both had a good chuckle.

“It’s the truth,” Scooter said, sporting his patented John Belushi-like, one-raised eyebrow look.

WillieB was next to the first tee when I walked out. He introduced me to Danny, my caddie, and then the others, Mark and Logan. They were a part of the fraternity of 14 caddies that don’t work directly for the club, rather independent contractors. They explained that they get the first dibs on all loops, and almost every day of the six they work every week they are guaranteed a morning and afternoon loop.

In a nod to the family atmosphere that they promote at Prestwick, Danny told me the story about when Covid hit, the club closed for a while. The members banded together and raised and donated $60,000 that the 14 Caddies shared to help pay their bills till the course reopened.

I pulled out my hickory putter and showed it to WillieB, pointing out the name etched on the brass club head.

“J Jeffrey, Dalmore.”

He explained that Dalmore (and its Distillery) was North, off the Cromarty Firth, not that far from Inverness and Royal Dornoch. I told him that Nico, Sam’s friend who would not be able to make it today, had some good luck with it the day prior at Western Gailes.

Unfortunately, WillieB had a nephew’s birthday party to attend that morning, but he saw us off at the first tee and said farewell.

“See you at Troon tomorrow, lads.”

Prestwick is an Old Tom Morris design from 1851. It remains to this day old-fashioned and quaint, and its members are proud of that. It had a very storied past, having hosted the first 12 Opens, from 1860–1872, and 24 in all. Prestwick is usually mentioned in the same breath as Royal Troon (its neighbor) Royal Dornoch and Ballybunion as the big four classics of links golf.

It would be my third installment of the Old Tom Morris Trail. As I stared at the railroad tracks to our right, my thoughts came together on the 1st tee, all the great golfers in the history of the game had played here. The wicker baskets that dot the practice green. The famous, classic holes that I would be playing, Cardinal (3), Himalayas (5th), and The Alps (17) with the Sahara bunker.

Prestwick lived up to its billing. It would not hold up to today’s pros with their extreme length, but it is a links course that everybody should play at least once in their lifetime or anytime you visit the Ayrshire Coast.

When you play it, make sure that you have caddies. I do not know what was more fun, the course or the back-and-forth bantering, jokes and busting of each other’s chops that filled our round.

When we reached the par-5 3rd, The Cardinal, which played into the wind that day, Sam turned to his caddie, Logan, and asked. “Can I reach this one? (in two)”

“Oh no,” Logan said, “from the back tee it’s a driver, a 3-Wood and a taxicab, Lad.”

We adjourned to the beautiful old-school locker room to clean-up for lunch in the formal dining room. The classic wood lockers reminded me of some of the old-school clubs in the States, e.g. Pine Valley, Shinnecock and National, you just want to sit back and relax and soak in the moment.

I was headed into the shower and Sam said with a panicked look on his face. “I forgot my dress shoes at the hotel.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” I said, “I bet the guys here can help you out. Go out to the lobby and chat with the attendant.” Sure enough, they said it was ok for Sam to wear his golf shoes in the dining room, as they did not have spikes.

Sam and I were chatting as we got dressed and put on our ties, after a well-needed shower.

“Where is Scooter? It has been like a half an hour,” I added. “Maybe we should go and make sure he’s, ok?”

“He’s probably fine,” Sam said, “I heard a few moans of ecstasy emanating from his shower.” We were laughing hysterically when Scooter rounded the corner, with a devilish smile on his face.

“Hey Scoots, we were about ready to send in a search party,” I joked.

“Oh my God that was one of the best showers I’ve ever had, all I needed was a flat screen TV and I could have spent the night in there.”

We sauntered into the Smoke Room. A nice old-school library with a bar, books, card tables, great antique golf clubs and paintings, and a splendid view out to 9 and 18 greens. Low, rounded back leather chairs, both brown and light (golf course) green. The maître d came and told us to grab a drink, and he would be in a little while to escort us into the dining room.

“You’ll be having lunch with the board members of the club, as well as their counterparts at Royal Troon,” he said. “I’ll come back and get you in about 10 minutes.”

It was a collective, “are you kidding me?”

“OK, Sam, your English private school skills just might come in handy today,” we joked. It Turns out that the two clubs were having their quarterly meeting, and a planning session for the Open at Royal Troon in 2024. I remember walking by the dining room when we first came in and WillieB was showing us to the lockers. I also remember the 40’ long dining table with chairs on both sides. I figured that as guests, we would be dining in another room, or even the smoke room. What a great surprise!

As promised, he escorted us into the dining room and told us to fill in next to the folks that were already seated. It looked as though there were twenty guys at the table, ten on each side. The custom there was alternating members, Prestwick, then Troon, rinse and repeat. Yet another terrific way to promote friendship and networking amongst the two clubs.

I went to the other side, and Scooter and Sam sat across from me. They followed the typical restaurant practice of staggering the guests’ arrivals, so as not to overwhelm the kitchen. The servers went over the menu with main the course choices of either fish or beef and brought us a glass of white to start.

I do not know which was better, the food (lobster thermidor) and ambiance, or the conversation. Frankly, they were equally superb. Once we got the ordering out of the way, we introduced ourselves to the respective board members next to us.

I reached out my hand to the gentleman to my left. “Hello, I’m a guest, and my name is Red.”

It was an immediate eye-popping-out response. “Colin, I’m a member at Troon, but my nickname is Red as well, pleasure to meet you.”

He was completely bald! I quickly pulled up a picture of me and my wife from when we were true first loves and soul mates at 18 years old.

“Whereas now I’m mostly ginger with a bit of silver splashed in, I used to have bright fluorescent orangish/red hair myself,” I said.

We bonded immediately, talking mostly about kids, grandkids, and life. He is still working in a high-powered commercial real estate position, and Me having been in the construction and real estate development software space for the past 30+ years--recently retired.

Looking across the table, Scooter was deep in conversation as well. It was hard to hear as the acoustics were not like a Vegas casino, I found out later that he was talking to a Prestwick member to his right, Stormin’ Norman. Just as the next bottle of wine came, a French Bordeaux via WilleB, a new group joined the table. I recognized them from when they were kind enough to let us play through on hole number seven.

Rene, a Prestwick member and his wife, Rachel had just played with a couple guests, Hugh and Mark—on a trip to Scotland from down under. Hugh sat down next to me, with Rene’s wife on the other side of him. Across, next to Sam were Rene and Mark. I quickly introduced myself to Hugh and we dove in. We talked about our respective rounds, and where he/they had been so far. Turns out that they had been up North already, playing both Royal Dornoch, as well as Cruden Bay amongst others. Turns out they were on their own mini-Old Tom Morris trail as well.

“I bet I can guess where you are from,” I said to him.

“Sounds good, give it your best shot,” he grinned.

I took my time, and thought most rookies would guess Sydney, then I pulled the trigger. “Melbourne?”

He grinned, paused, then said, “Wow, well done, I grew-up within an hour and now live there. My turn now.” After about a minute, he said, “I am thinking Midwest.”

“You are on the right track,” I smiled.

“Indiana or Ohio?

“Not bad! I am from the great golf town of Columbus, Ohio, where Jack Nicklaus grew up.

It was a fun little game, and I think I will play it more often.

We both spun and brought the other side of the table into the conversation. I introduced myself to Rene, and mentioned our friend WillieB, which put a smile on his face. Then, I turned to Mark, to his left. After a few minutes going back and forth about the trip, I thought I would go to my favorite conversation builder.

“Have you played the wonderful Dr. MacKenzie course, Royal Melbourne?”

That brought a grin to his face. “Absolutely, one of my favorite courses in the World! I call it home.”

“Scooter and I were fortunate to grow-up in Columbus, OH, and went to the same high school as Jack. We played OSU’s Scarlett course many times. As you know, MacKenzie designed it but passed away prior to it being constructed.

What ensued was a back ‘n forth for what seemed like an hour. We talked about courses, architects, and travel. I asked him if he knew of Tom Doak, and he was familiar with Cape Kidnappers in New Zealand. David McLay Kidd came up, as did Coore & Crenshaw, as well as Gil Hanse.

It turns out that he was going to head to Pine Valley in a week. Sam and Scooter jumped in on that topic. “You’re in for a real treat,” the three of us said in unison.

Both Red and Stormin’ Norman suggested that we try the Clootie Dumpling for dessert. But first, we had to take a stab at the cheese table. I had the requisite brie, that I teamed up with a Manchego and a nice sharp Irish cheddar. But the best was an English Stilton. It was pucker-your-lips strong, and a wonderful way to end off the lunch.

Things were slowly winding down. Red turned to me and said, “we are on the tee in 30 minutes. We do this a couple times a year, and we are typically knackered by the time we start. I know I have had my fair share of wine!”

We said our goodbyes. Rene and the Aussies were playing Troon tomorrow as well, and we hoped to run into each other, which we would as they were finishing up their round as we were approaching the 1st tee.

Scooter and I had already done some damage in the pro shop—he had added to his ever-growing golf wardrobe. I opted for a knit 5-wood cover, and a hat—we loved the Prestwick logo.

It finally sunk in for all of us. Not only a wonderful round on the hallowed grounds where The Open championship began, but an incredible lunch and conversation with the board members in the Men’s dining room—planning for the next year’s (2024) Open at Royal Troon.

I wish I could say that we planned it all that way, but sometimes surprises, in this case a serendipitous one, are the best.

It is an often-over-used term, but it truly was an experience of a lifetime. We were giddy as we got into our Uber to head back to our hotel in Ayr.

Falling in line with the serendipitous weekend that was, Scooter and I ran into Chris McBride (The Last Caddie, per the story and film in The Links Journal) the next evening at a pub in Ayr, after our round at Royal Troon.

He regaled us in stories of the Morrison family, WillieB’s dad, and how he had known them for years. He was decked-out in Masters logo green, neck to toe, with a yellow bucket hat.

If you have not already done so, on your next trip to Scotland, take dead aim at the Ayrshire Coast—a mere one-hour drive or train ride from Glasgow--and do what we call the Ayrshire Hat Trick. A round at Prestwick, Royal Troon, and Western Gailes (or, if you like, opt for Dundonald or Turnberry instead). But trust me, Western Gailes is a delightful, old school, out and back gem of a links course.

• Keep it in the Fairway - Old Tam

https://www.prestwickgc.co.uk/

→→Keep a look out for my blog on Royal Troon and chasing the Holy Grail of Scottish Golf.

Tips on Prestwick and the Ayrshire Coast

Prestwick Golf Club

https://www.prestwickgc.co.uk/visitors/

From our experience, Prestwick is very friendly to Visitors and welcome golfers to their wonderful club. Green’s Fee Rates vary depending on the season are anywhere from £160 in the Winter to £350 in the Summer.

Lodging: You can book a room at “Number 17” with a view of the course, a cozy, Inn atmosphere.

The Experience: When we were there, they offered a package deal with Green’s Fee and lunch with Head Pro David Flemming

Red Lion Inn - Don’t miss a pint and lunch or dinner at The Red Lion Inn, where the Prestwick Club was founded http://redlionprestwick.co.uk/

Package Deal:

Dundonald Links, Prestwick Golf Club and Western Gailes have created an ‘Ultimate Links’ package that takes in three of the very best links golf courses in Ayrshire, combined with a stay at Dundonald Links. Three incredibly special courses, all with their own unique story to tell.

Reservations are done through Dundonald Links. For more information click here.

Whereas we did not play Dundonald when we were on the Ayrshire coast, we heard that it was a real gem. They were hosting the Women’s Scottish Open when we were there. We played next door at Western Gailes (or simply Western as WillieB called it) and it was fantastic! A pure, classic out ‘n back Links routing, with beautiful dunes, and my favorite (4) closing holes in Scotland. Along with Royal Troon, it has the best greens in Scotland.