What you'll find inside No.6
In No.6 we venture North to the Links of Brora as Jim Hartsell answers the question why do we love golf? We've all had that moment when we believe we can play this game. That lightbulb moment when everything aligns, when it all seems to flow so effortlessly. That was not the case for a crane operator, in the north of England, in the 1970's as he aimed to become the champion golfer of the year in The Ballad of Count von Hoffmanstel. Ollie Allison asked himself, is 12 the perfect number? as he explored a wonderous golf course on an island off the west coast of Scotland. Tempers flare on a round with a golf clubs most notorious aggravated member as Reece Witters delivers another highly amusing short story in The Whistly Nostril. All of this and more in No.6
The Ballad Of Count Von Haffmanstel
Words by Murray Bothwell
Alamy Stock Photography
The challenge was Maurice had never played golf at all, but to him that wasn't an issue. He went to the local library, borrowed a Peter Allis instruction book, and bought some Al Geiberger instruction tapes. He saved up enough money to buy a half-set of clubs from a mail-order company. On arrival he popped them into a red imitation-leather bag and headed to the local beach to practise.
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North to The Links of Brora
Words by Jim Hartsell
Photography by Ryan Gilbert
There is a precious and rare type of silence to be found in the early morning on a links in Scotland. The sound of the waves quietly breaking on the beach, the wind-not too strong at this early hour-blowing through the native grasses, the sound of clubs clicking together in a carried golf bag, and wandering sheep baying their constant refrain all work to create a natural symphony.
Is 12 The Perfect Number?
Words by Ollie Allison
Photography by Ollie Allison & Oliver Lawson
The morning light skips over the jurassic clifftops of a rugged coastline seemingly lost in time. The ferry glides us over the glassy ripples of the firth of Clyde. Sailing to the Isle feels like a pilgrimage to a place of ancient wonder, a place where the burdens of every day life can be left behind.
The Art of Par - Mrs Forman's
Words by Jamie Darling
Photography by Stuart Currie
In the book British Golf links by Horace Hutchinson, he wrote that "Forman's is a good five. A good straight drive will 'lie' just short of a formidable array of bunkers which must be crossed. If the second is topped, several strokes, to say nothing of energy and temper, maybe lost before the balls extracted, but a good second brings one to within a wrist shot of the green."
A Game Rediscovered
Words by Murray Bothwell
Art by Robbie Spriddle
Remember the fun of arriving at your ball, gauging the distance to the flag by a most uncommon thing these days... your eyes... and then trying to work out how you were going to to get the ball there, when you also had no idea of how far you could hit any club straight. Conjuring up images of golfing superstars in similar situations, you'd attempt all manner of shots from the trickiest of lies and laugh hysterically when they actually came off.
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A Hitchhiker's Guide To Golf
Words by Murray Bothwell
Photography by Emil Weber
Once the tent is up, and the nights draws in, I spend some time under cover regenerating to the rhythm of the waves on the beach, the wind rippling over the canvas and going over the day's adventures in my mind. It's never the deepest sleep when you are so close to the noise of nature, but I always feel refreshed when I open the zip and take a look at the new day ahead.
The Whistly Nostril
Words by Reece Witters
Photography by Stuart Currie
The crackle of outlawed cleats on concrete announce the arrival of a lone man. He approaches the putting green and reaches into a sun-faded Powerbilt bag, tossing a couple of balls onto the dewy surface. That unmistakable audible entrance triggers an uncomfortable warning to the wary locals who bravely avoid catching his eye.