SUPPOSING now that the golfer has been fairly started on his way, for I do not propose entering upon the technicalities of the pastime until a little later on, he is probably intent upon playing a good medal or match game.

But it is a very real fact that the true art underlying the merits of medal play, which I now propose to deal with, is probably the most difficult of any to be learnt. Indeed, I may say that it is somewhat of a rarity for one particular player to excel both in match and medal play.

Taking the playing of an ordinary game as a test of ability, the golfer is simply set to defeat just his solitary opponent. He knows exactly what he has to do, what he has to cope with, and at every stage of the game he is aware exactly of how his rival stands.

In medal play the case is vastly different. You are playing against the whole field, and though you

114 taylor on golf may be perfectly aware of what your own score is likely to amount to, your opponents are unknown quantities.

This being the case, I have not a shadow of doubt that medal play is the highest test by which the excellence, or otherwise, of any player can be tried, no matter whether he be amateur or professional.

Every individual stroke in medal play has to be thought out on its own merits, and the pros and cons of the situation and its possibilities must be weighed in your mind.

Under these circumstances I have but one piece of advice to offer:

Play a steady game.

This will pay you best in such a competition. It will serve no useful purpose for you to fall into the grievous fault of attempting to do too much. You must not go out for everything, trusting to fortune to pull you through successfully.

Certainly, if you do this, there is just a bare possibility that you may succeed in accomplishing something of an extraordinary character, but then, on the other hand, the probability is that you will fail utterly and miserably in your efforts.

During the progress of a match, where it is simply holes that must needs be taken into consideration, it is possible for a golfer to risk a little occasionally, but he must guard against doing this in medal play. So, although I repeat myself, my advice is still, play a steady game, and leave nothing whatever to good fortune, or luck, or whatever you may care to call it.

Much has been said and written about the length of time devoted to the progress and termination of an ordinary medal competition, but my opinion is that it would be utterly impossible to play them upon the same basis as the Championships. For one thing, and this is one of the most important, it would be quite out of the power of the members to devote sufficient time to the pastime to enable them to play three or four rounds. Time alone, I think, would be found an objection impossible to remove, for the clubman who would be in a position to devote one morning or afternoon to the contest might not, probably would not, be able to spare two whole days for the same purpose.

During the decision of the Championships the case is very different. Every man present is fully aware of the fact that he is there for one purpose alone, and there is no opportunity for the exhibition of any display of haste. Another thing is that only the very best class of players is represented at the principal events of the year, and while one round might not be sufficient to settle the pretensions of one and all, the quartette of rounds played is amply sufficient to divide, I might almost say break up the field properly.

At the Championships, too, as is only fitting, a man is afforded a chance of retrieving his position, even should he be unfortunate enough to make a mediocre start. This, again, is but fair, for such a test comes but once during the course of a twelvemonth.

Let me give, as an instance, the Open Championship of 1895. On that date my first round was a poor one, for I returned a total of 86 strokes. But all was not over; I still had three chances remaining by which I might recover myself, and my second round of 78, third of 80, and the fourth and final of 78 counterbalanced my ill-luck experienced during the first round. Here again it is a real, a very real, question of steadiness and a capacity for controlling your nerves that is rendered a necessity for the playing of the proper game.

As regards the leading players of this kind of game, I should say that Mr. H. H. Hilton, of the amateurs, is undoubtedly the finest score player it is possible to mention. He is steadiness itself, and never takes an undue risk. This is the explanation of how Mr. Hilton maintains his position in the front rank of all those now performing with the club.

Speaking of the professionals, I hope I may not be accused of any desire to praise myself; but in looking at the rounds I have played during my participations in the Open Championships, I think I may be pardoned when I term myself one of the representative score players of our profession. I am not asking for or seeking any undue credit, but I must give an example, and in what I have said and in calling attention to figures and facts, I am simply providing an argument to lead up to an explanation of the method which I employ when I am engaged in playing a medal round.