It is this personal touch that makes them so special, and by the time we headed to the range, I was gagging to hit my first shot.
It is no wonder, because the craftsmanship that went into applying the various finishes and design elements by hand simply doesn’t exist any more. Depending on the make, model and quality, they can resell for ten times their original value. The world of vintage clubs, like the ones he has brought for me, is huge. It is also more than mere nostalgia for Christian.Įven to this day, he has resisted the temptation of modern equipment and plays to a single-figure handicap using vintage blades and persimmon woods, although he admits to playing a modern-day ball. He is not alone – a quick scroll through his Facebook page revealed this passion is shared by thousands of golfers across the globe. We met at my home club, Burghley Park Golf Club in Stamford, and after five minutes of chatting I was blown away by the depth of knowledge and passion Christian had for clubs from yesteryear. Nor did I have a burning desire to find out.īut having seen the advances in golf club technology over the last ten years, my curiosity to learn has grown, and so when Christian MacMillan from the Persimmon Golf Society reached out to me with an offer to play a round using a replica set of vintage clubs identical to what Nicklaus used during his glory days, I jumped at the opportunity. I was, of course, aware of the achievements of Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and others from the 1950s, 60s and 70s, but never truly appreciated or understood how different the game was back then. Growing up in the era of Tiger Woods (opens in new tab), a man who transformed the sport into a collection of distance-craving gym-goers, I’d never experienced any feelings of nostalgia towards how golf was back in the day.