Metropolitan, not Cosmopolitan

Posted by Jamie on 4 December 2010 | 0 Comments | Tags: Metropolitan, Melbourne, sandbelt, Australia

Until recently my brain refused to process the fact that two separate golf clubs existed on the Melbourne sandbelt, Metropolitan and Commonwealth.  My grey matter greyed the lines and came up with Cosmopolitan which, the astute among Us will know, is both a cocktail and an adjective �?? but certainly not a Victorian golf club.  �??When are we playing Cosmpolitan?�?� I�??d ask Michael, much to his bemusement (or was that bewilderment and amusement?).  

�??Metro�?� is revered as one of �??Straya�??s best.  I�??m not fully up to play with the club�??s history, but heard from our good hosts (I�??ll get to them shortly) that it formed in the 20s as a breakaway from Royal Melbourne after the club �?? then in another area of the city �?? had outgrown its capacity.  The Metro crowd moved to Oakleigh and the boys who kept the name to Black Rock.  Despite Metro�??s undeniable calibre I�??d have to say the latter got the best deal out of it: but then again that�??s not saying a huge amount given MacKenzie�??s masterpiece (I�??m referring to the West Course) is in my estimation one of the finest on Earth.  Anyway.

Having had the privilege of playing all of the sandbelt heavyweights during our initial foray to Melbourne back in March �?? save for Metro and RM (East) �?? it was a happy coincidence that just a few weeks prior to our return to the Victorian capital, an email from one Andrew Foote appeared in our inboxes.  �??I�??m a member at Metro, and if you�??re looking for a game, would love to host you.�?�  I remember penning recently (in the Lake Karrinyup post from memory) that such emails conjure as much glee as they did back in January.  If not more.  

It was a familiar face that dropped us off at the club.  Captain John Taylor is one of the longer in the tooth poster boys of puregolf2010, a paradigm example of how friendship knows no age and of how golf breaks down barriers that exist in other realms of society.  The man is well into his 80s.  I�??ve introduced him before on the blog, many months ago, as the chap we met on the 1st tee at Royal Sydney.  (To cut a long story short for those who missed it the first time: Captain and his charming Czech partner Hana were sneaking in a game en route to Nu Zillin for a golf holiday.  He�??s an RM member and was at RS making the most of his reciprocal privileges.  We�??d been snuck on (sort of) by a family contact of Michael�??s, and were �??Royal Auckland members on reciprocal rights�?� too.  Except we weren�??t.  So it was a little awkward when we joined up with Captain and Hana and the usual questions started flowing (as it turns out they could sense the insincerity in our story).  Thankfully we came clean after a couple of holes and the rest is history.  We met them in Melbourne several weeks later for dinner at their favourite Wednesday night joint �?? Fazio�??s �?? two weeks in a row, and have kept in touch since).  

Hana has very kindly put us up for the last couple of nights at her pad near RM (which is handy to Metro, of course, too).  Czech hosts are the best (pancakes au freshly ground flour were a highlight).  Last evening The Captain joined us for a ceremonial demolition of a paprika�??d chicken and several bottles of South Australian red.  Just like those Wednesday evenings back in March at Fazio�??s we told stories and laughed like childhood friends.  There�??s something quite enthralling about hearing the stories of a man�??s (and indeed a woman�??s) lifetime.  Michael and Yours Truly have much living still to do (unless QF 337 crashes that is...).

Anyway The Captain dropped us off with the offer of a pick up and lunch at RM if our hosts had to dash après golf.  Right away we met the acquaintance of a Californian gentleman �?? looking suitably �??fornian in khaki shorts and slippers �?? and struck up a chin wag.  He and John went At It about whether RM or Metro ruled the roost as we looked on with amusement.  �??I�??m keeping out of this�?� I thought, rather unusually, to myself.  Y�??er man bent our ear as we navigated the corridors en route to the pro shop much as a Greenpeace volunteer does on the High Street.  With a newfound fondness though for Americans, after enjoying 63 days of their unparalleled hospitality this year, I was not irritated in the slightest and indulged his every question with the most thoughtful answers I could muster.  (Admittedly I might not have been so patient pre-2010).

My this is turning into something of a long winded tale.  Better get to the point Jamie.  Two expectant young fathers appeared to recognise us and gestured in our direction.  (You can just tell when a man�??s got young kids).  Andrew and his cobber Warwick.  �??Twas a little awkward that our new �??fornian pal kept talking in my left ear as I was being introduced, trying to hold two conversations at once.  Diplomacy�??s never been a strength of mine either...

Straight to the putting green we went.  Metro�??s greens are renowned for their purity and the practice green was no disappointment.  Except.  The practice green was 50% slicker than it�??s on course counterparts.  Echoes of the �??Beached As�?� Kiwi whale on YouTube and his �??dissuptive�?� murmurings rang aloud.  No matter.  While stroking it across the veritable carpet it quickly became apparent that our new friends were well travelled golfers indeed.  Andrew�??s also a member at one of our favourites, Royal Adelaide.  The Gowf Tawk was in full swing.

I fatted a 2 iron off the 1st tee.  All of a sudden my 3 handicap looked less plausible than a Goldstein 2 putt from 15 feet.  I caught Warwick catching Andrew shooting Michael a sideways WTF glance.  Normally I don�??t get embarrassed by my golf but this was exceptional.  An exceptionally poor shot.  

On the next hole the tone was set for the morning, in the sense that I found myself in a famous sandbelt bunker.  Metro has millions of �??em and I found �??em all.  Heavy rain over the past couple of days hadn�??t helped proceedings either: most of the pits were logged with water �?? waterlogged, in fact �?? making Up And Downs an unlikely prospect indeed for mere mortals such as myself.  And so it was that many bogeys were made.

Andrew and Warwick displayed admirable patience at my incompetence.  And even greater patience at Michael�??s lack of grace as he made birdie after birdie and skyted about the whole bloody charade.  Andrew being a partner in a successful advertising agency (that he co-founded) is no mug; nor is Warwick for that matter, an economics consultant.  Humbled by such cerebral company we did our best not to let the hacking get the better of our sensibilities.  These were two good punters to walk �??round a golf course with.  

And they have a pair of understanding wives too.  Their itinerary of golf tours for the next couple of years reads almost like that of Slambino�??s in the mid-Noughties.  The rascals are leaving no stone unturned.  Scotland, Ireland, Tassie...  Why not too.  

The course itself?  5 is just a marvellous par 4.  19 a sharp little par 3 (Clayton, no less).  And 9 a smashing index 2 hole.  Really there�??s hardly a weak hole and the bunkering provides ample defence.  Under normal circumstances I expect the greens would be lightning too, making not only putting but those little pitches Hair On The Chest stuff.  Those proclaiming Metro�??s creed as one of the sandbelt�??s gems certainly won�??t get any arguments from me.  A �??must visit�?� for serious golfers heading through Melbourne, no doubt.  

It would�??ve been a regret of ours had we missed Metro altogether.  Thankfully Andrew Foote carped diem and saw to that.  For his initiative and tremendous hospitality we are very grateful.  And for my incompetence I will...refrain from apologising to Warwick my partner.  Because apologies �?? like knee bending, bridge pinching and various other prohibited behaviours �?? attract �??jug fines�?� among Andrew & Warwick�??s Saturday group.  And rightly so.  These lads seem to have fun with their golf and well they should.  

Entrée Captain John Taylor and a smashing afternoon of Ashes cricket viewing.  

Thank you Andrew and Warwick, and The Metropolitan Golf Club for hosting us.  You gentlemen are a credit to the club and despite your Australianness, to the golf community writ large.  May you avoid broken wrists unlike your ill-fated friend Don and may you make it over to KiwiLand soon to enjoy our hospitality at Paraparaumu Beach GC, the Spiritual Home of Nu Zillin Gowf.

Chur chur

JP   

P.S. And a sincere thank you to Hana & Captain John for looking after us so famously.  You are sublime examples of homosapiens.  �??nuff said.