Given it is the only notable event Muirfield Golf Club now stages, I increasingly look forward to its biannual row over whether to admit women members. Last played in May 2016, the contest returns this month and promises to put observers right inside the action of ye olden tymes as they enjoy breathtaking views uttered in front of a backdrop of breathtaking views. Think of it as a sort of Westworld for golf, shot on a cost of £80m to the local economy, which is what estimations reckon hosting the Open would be worth. I’m not saying the row is comically quaint but you wouldn’t rule out hearing that during its course, someone or other had furiously cast his periwig to the floor.
A personal highlights reel from last time around would include interventions from Peter Alliss, who appeared to regard the Muirfield facilities as so superlative that they were worth entering into a high-stakes bargain for. “If someone wants to join,” he mused, “well, you’d better get married to someone who’s a member.” I don’t know about you, but I think if I were to enter into a marriage of state, I’d require in return something like dibs on the Habsburg empire, as opposed to the chance of a silent G&T in the 19th with a man who switches channel when Cialis adverts come on.
Related: Don’t rush to praise Muirfield if women are finally admitted | Ewan Murray
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