More than a game: Young at heart

After a weekend of heavy golfing, Fergus reflects on the standard scratch system and a set of six dining room chairs.

I?m relatively clued up on modern music, I can surf the internet as well as the next man and SpongeBob SquarePants makes me laugh. Things like this firm up my belief that I remain a youngster. Practically still a teenager in fact. Occasionally, however, events in my life provide irrefutable evidence that I?m not actually as young as I think. Last week I bought a set of six George III vernacular dining room chairs at an auction at Bonhams in Knightsbridge. This is just not something a 17-year-old would do.

When it comes to golf I used to think I had a clear way of defining my youth: I carry my clubs. But recently I?ve noticed juniors abandoning the old fashioned method of manual haulage in favour of a worrying new means of club transportation. Many of them are using electric trolleys.

Fergus Bisset
Contributing Editor

Fergus is Golf Monthly's resident expert on the history of the game and has written extensively on that subject. He has also worked with Golf Monthly to produce a podcast series. Called 18 Majors: The Golf History Show it offers new and in-depth perspectives on some of the most important moments in golf's long history. You can find all the details about it here.

He is a golf obsessive and 1-handicapper. Growing up in the North East of Scotland, golf runs through his veins and his passion for the sport was bolstered during his time at St Andrews university studying history. He went on to earn a post graduate diploma from the London School of Journalism. Fergus has worked for Golf Monthly since 2004 and has written two books on the game; "Great Golf Debates" together with Jezz Ellwood of Golf Monthly and the history section of "The Ultimate Golf Book" together with Neil Tappin , also of Golf Monthly.

Fergus once shanked a ball from just over Granny Clark's Wynd on the 18th of the Old Course that struck the St Andrews Golf Club and rebounded into the Valley of Sin, from where he saved par. Who says there's no golfing god?