Behind the greens
Reflections on a special project at a special golf club.
All images used in this story have been taken and edited by William Watt and used here with permission. To see more of Will’s work, check out Contours Golf.
I subscribe to the theory that the only reason an alarm should start with a 4, is to catch a flight. It should only ever start with a 5 to make the first tee time at a distant golf course, and anything in the 6’s is work-related.
So, when William Watt of Contours Golf suggested 4:30am departure to ‘work’ alongside him for a shoot day down at The National, it flew in the face of at least two of those self-imposed rules.
But for this project, the rules needed to be re-written.
I met Will – Director and founder of Contours Golf, Laneway Links and Caddie Magazine – at a café in the middle of a dreary Melbourne winter. There, I was instantly inspired by his passion, enthusiasm and remarkable body of work. We hit it off, too, as our shared love of long-form golf storytelling sustained us through a pair of coffees and beyond the limits of a Fitzroy parking meter.
Buoyed by our conversation and optimistic that there could be the chance to work together further down the line, I was delighted in early November when Will asked if I would like to be involved in producing some content at The National Golf Club.
A project for The National Journal, he would be creating a video and photography collection, and I would write an accompanying feature story to celebrate the ground staff at The National. A crew who maintains four of the best courses in the country, they deserved something special, so it was a pleasure to join Will for the ride.
We arrived at the Cape Schanck property with the ground staff, in time for their daily briefing at 6am.
As Will set up microphones and got to work securing B-roll, I fumbled around with an old film camera; hoping to strike some gold in the allotted 35 photos that might help add some texture to Will’s finer touch.
After furiously scribbling some notes during the briefing, we crammed a drone, multiple cameras and ourselves into a Toro Workman for one of the most captivating hours of ‘work’ I’ve ever done.
As the sun poked its head over the courses, we roamed around getting footage and striking up friendly conversations with ground staff who were going about their morning tasks; moving pins, sweeping dew from greens and preparing the courses for the day’s most eager golfers.
With one of world golf’s most stunning natural settings just about all to ourselves, it was a unique and precious moment.
“We should have brought the sticks,” Will mused as we snuck up to the 7th on the Old.
I’m not sure any work would have been done if we had so much as a wedge…
Once the sun was up, we had a schedule to keep to, interviewing each of the Superintendents, their reflections to form the majority of the feature.
I love interviewing people; hearing people talk about their passions and what lights them up is what I enjoy most about writing.
So, with Leigh Yanner, Tony Gordon, Scott Calder and Simon Page, it was a joy to talk turf. Their knowledge bountiful, and their love for their work evident in the pristine condition of the courses under their care, each offered warm, generous and sincere reflections.
As we chatted with each of them – all seemingly as comfortable in front of a camera as on a mower – their kind and personable natures all shone through, too.
It was heartening to hear them speak with such affection for the teams they manage, and the real, human connection that they feel with their colleagues.
To have the chance to tell the stories of people like that is a unique privilege.
Interviews complete, we made a pit-stop in Fingal before heading back to Melbourne.
A perfect morning in the books, my face bore a smile that might just have been wider than some of the Old course fairways.
Thanks to those ground staff, though, you can be sure that any one of those fairways is far better nick…
This is In Pursuit of Playability and Presentation: A morning with the National Golf Club’s course team.