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My Recent Wedge Fitting Experience at Tour Truck Golf
There’s an undeniable mystique to Tour Truck Golf. Nestled discreetly on the edge of Catterick, the two grey metal-skinned behemoths, parked alongside the range, promising secrets whispered by pros and clubs forged in the crucible of competition. For me, it held not just the allure, but the desperate hope of cracking the code of my wayward short game. Two years ago, Luke, the owner, had transformed my irons from a mismatched pick n mix to laser-guided rockets with a fully bespoke set of Taylormade P7MB combo irons and now, it was the wedges’ turn. I embarked on a ninety-minute odyssey within the truck’s confines. Ninety minutes of Luke’s guided interrogation along with the Trackman’s unblinking eye dissecting every swing like a forensic accountant. My mishmash of previous wedges – a motley crew of brands and lofts, testament to my hoarding instincts over club-fitting wisdom – met their demise under Luke’s discerning gaze
A Slice of the Action: Teeing Off at Yarm Driving Range
There’s something about the rolling hills of North Yorkshire that puts you at ease. Maybe it’s the wide-open spaces or the fresh air that carries a hint of earth and green. But Yarm Driving Range? It’s something else entirely. Nestled in this unassuming corner of the world, it’s quietly carved out a reputation as a refuge for golfers of all stripes. And now, thanks to a serious injection of tech and taste, it’s transformed into something even more—a haven where your game gets better, your taste buds get spoiled, and your afternoons just get a little more interesting. Yarm recently upped the ante with the installation of TrackMan in their bays. Now, don’t roll your eyes—this isn’t some superficial facelift to keep the tech-heads happy. No, TrackMan has changed the game. The data is pinpoint precise—club path, ball speed, strokes gained—it’s all there, and it’s being used to fuel one of
Tee Time in the Land of Burns: A 48-Hour Blitz of Birdies and Banter at Dundonald Links
Forget a Highland fling, we were on a Highland fling and dash, a whirlwind 48-hour escapade to conquer Dundonald Links and soak in the soul of Scottish golf. Six mates, six handicaps (ranging from Clarke’s silky-smooth 3 to Weeman’s perpetually-optimistic 18), one epic course, and a dash of whisky for good measure – this wasn’t just a golf trip, it was a baptism by birdies. Dawn crackled like mist over the Firth of Clyde as we peeled out of Yarm at 6am, coffee flowing and anticipation humming in the car like an engine. Weeman, ever the maestro, navigated with military precision, while banter ricocheted around the cabin like errant tee shots. Dillon, our resident historian, regaled us with tales of Prestwick’s grand days and Troon’s fearsome winds, stoking the fires of friendly competition. By the time we glimpsed the majestic silhouette of Dundonald Links against the sunrise, our minds were
From the Highlands to the Harbour: Chasing Golf’s Soul in Scotland
The workweek had finally loosened its death grip, and as we set out on our journey north, there was that unmistakable buzz of a Scottish golf weekend on the horizon. The A1 stretched out before us like an open invitation, with sheets of rain pounding down in torrents, reminding us that nature—much like a links course—can’t be tamed. Still, there’s something about the rain up here; it’s not an obstacle, it’s an initiation. By the time we reached Eyemouth, the downpour had transformed into a surreal calm, the sky giving way to a moonlit ocean—a dark, shimmering mirror of the adventure ahead. Eyemouth. A humble harbor town carved by fishermen, battered by the North Sea, and seasoned by centuries of survival. This isn’t a postcard village; it’s a place that wears its scars proudly. The kind of town where life and death dance on the edge of each wave. We
Prepping for the Scottish Links: A Swing Tune-Up Before Embarking on the Ultimate Kintyre Adventure
Folks, a journey to the sacred grounds of Scottish golf demands more than just packing a sturdy windbreaker and a healthy dose of self-deprecation for those inevitable duffed shots. It requires a swing finely tuned to battle the elements and a mental game as steady as a seasoned caddie’s hand on a 40mph gust. Especially when you’re about to embark on the ultimate Kintyre golfing adventure and a swing that’s as unstable as mine. A lot more body sway before (left) resulting in a higher less penetrating launch Thanks to the fine folks at The Links Diary and The Fliers Club, we’re about to experience the holy trinity of Kintyre golf: Machrihanish Golf Club, Machrihanish Dunes, and Dunaverty. Each course promises a unique test of skill, a distinct character, and enough windswept beauty to fill a dozen postcards. To prepare myself for this golfing odyssey, I sought the wisdom of James Maw, a golf swing guru whose reputation precedes him like a
Bunkers & Bragging Rights: The Bastard’s Battle on the Links
Under the Seaton Sun: A Links Course Revelation So we weren’t exactly bleary-eyed pilgrims arriving at the crack of dawn. More like sun-chasing sinners rolling up to Seaton Carew as the day got going, enough time for a hearty breakfast. The Links stretched out before us, a tapestry of windswept fairways and unforgiving bunkers. But forget some kind of golfing purgatory – Seaton Carew’s a legend, a course revered by players for its challenge. No fancy pro shops or country club fairways here, lads. This was about battling the elements, calloused hands gripping the clubs, and the hard-earned satisfaction of a well-struck shot against a backdrop that wouldn’t know a manicured flower bed if it tripped over one. Truth be told, the sight of familiar faces was a welcome relief amidst the wind and sand. There was Martyn, the old pro at Rockliffe, his face etched with the wisdom of countless rounds on unforgiving courses. Beside him stood Andy, his dad, a man whose easy smile
The Pilgrimage to St Andrews: A Caddy’s Tale of Birdies, Snatched Sausage Rolls, and Unforgettable Links
A couple of years ago, under the capricious Scottish sky, a pilgrimage unfolded. Not to the holy land, but to the hallowed ground of another kind: the Old Course at St. Andrews. The invitation, a gift from one of our generous customers, Brian, set the stage for a day etched long in our memory, a blur of sun, rain, wind, and laughter that transcended the elements. My golf partner-in-crime, my cousin Ben, and I embarked on this journey with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The Old Course, the “Home of Golf,” was a mythical beast, whispered about in hushed tones by golfing aficionados. Could we possibly live up to its legend? The pilgrimage began not on the hallowed turf of St. Andrews, but with the quiet hum of the A1 motorway stretching endlessly north as we ploughed through the latest season of the Chasing Scratch podcast. Ben and I,
Anticipating Dunaverty: A Jewel in Scotland’s Golfing Crown
Well, folks, after a whirlwind trip up to Scotland, a day spent battling the elements and the fairways at Machrihanish and Machrihanish Dunes, it’s time for the grand finale: Dunaverty Golf Club. Nestled on the rugged Kintyre peninsula, this isn’t just another round of golf, it’s a journey back in time, a test of skill against nature, and a fitting end to our Scottish golfing escapade. You see, Dunaverty isn’t your run-of-the-mill course. It’s a hidden gem, a place where history whispers through the windswept dunes and the crashing waves of the Atlantic. The fairways wind their way along the coastline, offering breath-taking views and a challenge that’ll put even the most seasoned golfer to the test. Dunaverty is a course rich in history and charm. It’s hard to believe that such a serene location was once the site of a notorious massacre in 1647, where supporters of Oliver Cromwell besieged and slaughtered 300 members of Clan MacDonald at Dunaverty Castle, now known as Blood