Before reading Lawrence Donegan’s Four-Iron In The Soul, I knew very little about golf apart from the Rat Pack, Tiger Woods, Jimmy Tarbuck and, er. bogies. Indeed, for me, golf was just something that was on TV in the early hours in the days before proper 24-hour telly.
And I suspect that I haven’t learned much more about golf after reading Four-Iron In The Soul but the book is an absolute beaut.
Lawrence Donegan used to play the bass in a couple of tasty Scottish post-punk bands – The Bluebells and The Commotions. But in the ’90s he decided to put away his childish things and become a journalist, working for The Guardian.
Although I was well aware of Donegan’s musical endeavours I can’t say I paid much attention to his career in journalism. But a few weeks ago, somewhere on the internet, I bumped into Four-Iron In the Soul and took a punt. And I’m glad I did.
In the mid-nineties, Donegan contacted the obscure – to me at any rate – Scottish golfer Ross Drummond and asked to be his caddy for a season. Drummond agreed and Donegan ended up following the golfer around Europe and beyond. Along the way, he encountered all manner of misfits and oddballs. There were highs and lows, comedy and disappointment.
Lawrence Donegan really is a cracking writer who can fire off sharp one liners as well as many a crime writer. Indeed, Four-Iron In the Soul is as gripping as it touching. Though I’m a bit surprised that no one asked him if his old man was a dustman Four-Iron In The Soul is highly recommended.