McEwan: Swilcan Bridge patio is a blunder – but a repairable one

Scotland loves a good bridge scandal. 

From the abolition of tolls (and the recent threat of their reintroduction) to the omnishambles that is the Queensferry Crossing, these structures that are intended to unite have, ironically, prompted all kinds of division and rancour.

Another chapter in this most peculiar of sagas was written at the weekend when images of new stonework installed either side of the Swilcan Bridge went viral.

The iconic landmark that connects the tee and the fairway on the 18th hole of St Andrews’ Old Course has been embellished with the creation of what can most accurately be described as patios.

The bridge is, arguably, the most famous and most photographed spot in all of golf and, as a result, is a place that even those who have never visited St Andrews feel a deep, emotional connection to. St Andrews Links Trust, the custodians of the land, acknowledged that point when they issued a statement to defend what they say was unavoidable and necessary maintenance work.

“We recognise that, as such an iconic landmark in golf, the Swilcan Bridge retains a special place in the heart of many golfers and, as such, can be an emotive topic,” said a spokesperson. “We are confident we will find the best ongoing solution to preserve the iconic nature of the Swilcan Bridge and its surroundings, while ensuring that as many people as possible can to visit the site year round.”

The statement also acknowledged that the project remains a work in progress and that “ongoing efforts are being undertaken to ensure any final installation, including size, shape and material, is in keeping with its surroundings.”

The court of public opinion, however, has already delivered a damning verdict.

At the time of writing, a live poll on the bunkered Twitter page has only 2.7% of respondents describing the work as an improvement on what was there previously, whilst Sir Nick Faldo – a winner of The Open at St Andrews in 1990 – branded it “a well thought out strategically placed sundial”. That’s to say nothing of the countless (and, in some cases, very funny) memes.

There has also been tangible anger, with some social media users dismissing the work an “abomination”, a “disgrace” and a “joke”.

“Old Tom Morris would be rolling in his grave,” remarked one particularly hysterical pearl-clutcher, who, short of possessing Oda Mae Brown’s penchant for paranormal telecommunication, has absolutely no way of quantifying that statement.

If we park the righteous indignation for a second or two, here’s the truth.

No, the ‘patio’ doesn’t look good.

Yes, it can be fixed.

Yes, maybe it will be.

No, it’s not the end of the world.

The St Andrews Links Trust exists to preserve and protect the public courses of golf’s hometown and, for the most part, it does an excellent job. In any sensible, balanced debate, for example, it would be as lauded for the ongoing work it does in maintaining natural, dune-based flood defences as it has been lambasted for the work it’s done around the Swilcan Bridge. It would be far easier to dump ugly rock armour all the way up the side of the West Sands but the Trust has resisted. 

But nobody wants to talk about the good stuff, do they?

There’s also the fact that their homework gets marked mid-assignment by dint of the links’ public status. Bear in mind that, since you last saw it, Augusta National has been able to rip up its beloved 13th hole and construct a new tee that will radically change how it plays. Save for a handful of drone images, that work has largely been done in private. You’ll only really see it when it’s done. St Andrews Links Trust doesn’t get that luxury. It does its work in front of a rubber-necking, belly-aching audience. It can’t be easy.

None of which is to absolve them from criticism for what is an uncharacteristic and ill-judged misstep. If the patio survives the season, I’ll be stunned.

Fact is, it’s a mistake. A terrible but honest mistake that easily be rectified.

The onus now is on the Trust to pause, take stock of the prevailing sentiment, and adjust course accordingly. 

To mend bridges, so to speak.