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Third Time Is The Charm

© Bill Howard

I am a member of a frighteningly small golf subculture. I play golf with low tech irons.

I feel strongly that beautiful golf shots are far more likely to be produced with beautiful golf clubs. Unfortunately, the golf equipment market in general feels that it's perfectly all right to sacrifice beauty on the altar of game improvement. Manufacturers are busy moving weight around and super-sizing heads to the point where the irons some of you play with are barely recognizable as golf clubs.

The irons in my golf bag were manufactured by the fine folks at Power-Bilt in 1975. I bought them with money I made shagging range balls. In the time that has elapsed since, I have had ample opportunity to replace them. I just haven't found irons that look as good to me when I set them down behind the ball. That all changed last Tuesday.

One of the big discount retailers in my area is having a fire sale. I was in the market for some left handed clubs for my son so I headed up the road. I found the place, walked in, and headed directly for the used clubs. There were literally hundreds of full and partial sets bound with thick rubber bands leaning against a long wall. My eyes were immediately drawn to a set with white grips and pale olive green shafts. On closer inspection, they were indeed the MacGregor Tommy Armour Silver Scots I had coveted since first seeing them as a teenager.

I had seen similar sets twice before. The first time I was thirteen and the set, minus the original shafts and grips, belonged to a Canadian pro who couldn't play a lick. I saw them again in a small golf shop in Greenville, SC some twelve years later. And here they were again. Manufactured in the late 1950's or early 1960's, they are truly magnificent looking. I have never seen a more beautiful set of irons.

The proprietor of the shop informed me that they were probably trade ins. I quickly negotiated a price that, at least from my perspective, was hideously low. I then picked out some clubs for my son and made haste down the highway. I think I now have some insight into how bank robbers feel during a successful getaway.

As I rode home I wondered; am I the only one with a lust for classic design? Are we, thegolfing public, so absorbed with the latest and greatest technological advance that we don't care how ungainly our clubs look sitting behind the ball? I wonder.