Excerpt from the hole entitled, The Graveyard and the Sahara by Wayne T. Morden
I then prowled the remaining stairs to the second floor and viewed a whole string of pictures by the dining room and the nineteenth hole pub. Tom Watson certainly had his fair share of pictures. I snapped a picture on my Blackberry of one that this five-time Open Champion shared with the Merry Mex, Lee Trevino. I dipped my head into the pub overlooking the 18th hole and imagined how great the Guinness would taste following my titanic clash with Chief against Scugog and Bags in our four-ball match. The four of us played together at the Old Course at St Andrews and we now played together at Ballybunion’s Old Course. Symmetry. Tradition needed to be upheld for what we call the Round Table members. The march through Pinehurst, Bandon Dunes, Kiawah Island, St. Andrews, Pebble Beach, Whistling Straits and now Ballybunion has brought us closer together and admiration of such golf treasures expands as we tick off another cherished ruby in our golfing lives.
The Members room came next. After a quick craning of the neck to see if there were any Ballybunnionites who would prevent me from entering, I only hesitated briefly before opening the door and stepping inside. I would cause no damage so I figured a man who admired the traditions of the club and the game would have no problem with management personnel. The inner sanctum had a cozy bar to my left with prominent draft beer names labelled on pouring handles. Comfortable leather chairs and weighty looking trophies were sitting to my right. Substantial windows provided the view to the front and not to the back with the course’s sightlines. Too bad since I could imagine that sipping an Irish whiskey here would be more distinguished by watching others hit into the eighteenth green rather than witnessing a bus full of American golfing pilgrims rolling into their prestigious course.