Whether the world knows it or not, tonight
a large swath of humanity pays homage to Robert Burns, the poet laureate of
Scotland. His poem and song, Auld Lang
Syne, written in 1788, will be sung at midnight by hundreds of millions of people
around the globe, and I would guess that only a minuscule percentage of those revelers
will know who wrote it and what it means.
While I could find no reference to
Robert Burns playing golf during a quick trip through the Internet, I believe he
was a sportsman, as he was a member of the Royal Company of Archers in 1792. And Burns was
born in Ayrshire, home of several of the world’s greatest courses (Royal Troon,
Turnberry and Prestwick, the home of the first Open Championship).
While
the game of golf predates Auld Lang Syne by centuries (the first documented
mention of golf in Scotland appears in a 1457 Act of the Scottish Parliament,
an edict issued by King James II of Scotland prohibiting the
playing of the games of golf and football
as these were a distraction from
archery
practice for military purposes) it’s hard to imagine a true Scotsman who does
not (and for many centuries did not) have golf in his blood.
So give a passing thought to Rabbie (not Rabbi) Burns when you drunkenly warble
his melancholy tribute to days gone by at midnight tonight, and dream later of making
memories in the future from rounds of golf played with family and friends.
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| No One Challenges Me With Impunity! |
Here are the original words to perhaps
the world’s most famous poem:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?
CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
for auld lang syne,
we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup!
and surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
and surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We twa hae run about the braes,
and pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
sin' auld lang syne.
and pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
sin' auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
sin' auld lang syne.
Image courtest of the Royal Company of Archers.
Licensed in Creative Commons
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
sin' auld lang syne.
Image courtest of the Royal Company of Archers.
Licensed in Creative Commons
AMDG
