The very thought of it might make you fidget, but Ivor Robson, the man who saw all of the greater and lesser names off the first tee at the Open Championship for 41 years in his role as official starter, never left his post to go to the toilet. What is more, by way of making sure that he did not need to go, he ate neither breakfast nor lunch on Thursdays and Fridays.
As he would explain to Bunkered magazine following his retirement in 2015, “I never took alcohol, and you got used to not having breakfast or lunch because you’re concentrating all the while. By the time you give the players their cards, the pin placements and the local rules, and tell them who is up first and second, the next group is beginning to arrive.†The business of staying focussed mattered to him above all else, and any kind of interruption from, say, a member of the media was never encouraged and understandably so.
At the end of a long day’s work, Robson, a Scotsman who died last week at age 83, did not hang about. Instead, he would make a swift return to his hotel for room service and a good night’s sleep. Socialising was not his thing.
Yet Peter Dawson, the former chief executive of the R&A, refused to take “No†for an answer when, on the occasion of Robson’s 40th Open and his last at St Andrews, he insisted that the starter attend the champions dinner. “I was the first man invited that wasn’t a past champion,†Robson said. They gave him a replica Claret Jug bearing the winners’ names along with the message, “For outstanding performance at the Open.â€
“Ivor’s voice was instantly recognisable and synonymous with the championship for players and millions of golf fans worldwide.â€
Martin Slumbers
Though he would be on duty again at Royal Troon the following year, the ’15 Open was the one where he, Tom Watson and Peter Dawson all said their goodbyes. Robson was not one for showing emotion, but the night of the dinner was one when he came close. “It has been a wonderful career and a great honour,†he said. “The way I have been treated by players, officials, sponsors … thank you all very much.â€
No one would want a temperamental starter, and the timing and the tone of Robson’s voice was the equivalent of a perfect golf swing: It never changed, and it helped create an aura of calm. As Martin Slumbers, the R&A’s chief executive, said last week on the day of Robson’s death, “Ivor’s voice was instantly recognisable and synonymous with the championship for players and millions of golf fans worldwide.â€
His was also a voice made to mimic.
“We all gave it a try,†said Jamie Spence, a two-time winner on the European Tour. In Spence’s opinion, the standout candidate on this front was caddie “Toffy†Tim King who, apart from looping for Spence, worked with Sweden’s Per-Ulrik Johansson.
Seve Ballesteros called Robson “mi amigo,†and Tiger Woods similarly afforded him the utmost respect. Yet much though Robson enjoyed watching Woods hitting off, he always felt for those in his group who were next. The reason, here, was that the media, the cameramen and the public were always more interested in getting in position for the world No.1’s second shot than waiting for them.
“Ivor was a lovely, lovely fellow,†said David Huish, the half-way leader in the 1975 Open at Carnoustie. Robson was in his first year as the Open’s official starter, and it was the one and only time he would announce someone on the tee with whom he had played golf.
Was Robson a good golfer?
“He could certainly play a bit,†Huish said. “Also, he was a very different Ivor to the one you saw at the Open. At the Open, he was a very professional man doing a very professional job, but in a friendly game, he would chat away all the time.â€
Huish was nervous as he teed up on the Saturday afternoon at Carnoustie with a two-shot lead over Bobby Cole, Peter Oosterhuis, Andries Oosthuizen and eventual winner Tom Watson. “To be honest,†he said, “I was way out of my depth. In fact, you could say I was drowning.â€
What made the experience still worse was that someone had handed Huish a pile of telegrams as he walked on to the tee. Robson could see that he was harassed, and because Huish was friend as much as player, Robson said a quiet, “Take a deep breath. You’ve got plenty of time.â€
Huish also has fond memories of the day when he was inadvertently responsible for Robson interrupting his legendary concentration with an improbable shriek – of laughter.
At an early-season tournament, two-time Ryder Cup competitor John Garner had asked to store a suitcase in Huish’s car because he was due to go on his honeymoon on the Sunday night. When the time came to hand the case back, Huish and his caddie had been thoughtful enough to add a few handfuls of confetti, tucking some of it into the rim of a woolly hat.
Weeks later, on a cold tournament day at Wentworth, Garner fished the unused hat from his golf bag and, when he pulled down the rim as Robson was announcing his name, so Wentworth’s first tee became awash with confetti.
On the first morning, when Pádraig Harrington and Colin Montgomerie took the tee against Woods and Jim Furyk, Robson announced the four-balls as foursomes before Woods, perhaps in a state of shock, promptly knocked his drive into the water.
Arguably the only time that Robson made a mistake – it was passed off as a minor mishap – was during the 2006 Ryder Cup at The K Club in Ireland. On the first morning, when Pádraig Harrington and Colin Montgomerie took the tee against Woods and Jim Furyk, Robson announced the four-balls as foursomes before Woods, perhaps in a state of shock, promptly knocked his drive into the water.
It was at the 2011 Open de España at Golf Club El Prat near Barcelona that Robson, who had Type 2 diabetes, was seen by the doctors at lunchtime on the Thursday and spent the night in hospital before being released the next morning.
On the Saturday, I was on the same Edinburgh-bound plane with Robson and, in accordance with instructions from the tour, I did my best to make sure that he took things easy.
We arrived at the airport in good time and duly presented our passports and tickets at one desk and then another. At which point it was at my suggestion that we sat down and waited for the flight to be called. The gentlemanly Ivor assumed I knew what I was talking about.
I didn’t. Only when I noticed my companion checking and re-checking his Rolex – he was a perfect ambassador for the company – did I hail a passing steward and ask if he knew anything about the Edinburgh flight. “Yes,†he said, “it’s about to leave. You’ll need to follow me, and you’ll need to run.â€
So much for Ivor Robson taking it easy.
E-MAIL LEWINE
PHOTOS: MATTHEW LEWIS, GETTY IMAGES
