Rather than be limited by a traditional book launch, as I have done in the past for the books of The Gentry Links Trilogy, I have chosen to welcome you here to reach a wider readership so that the publication can better support the work of The R&A Foundation.

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It also allows me to introduce the book in a more personal and lasting way. 

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A Life’s Two Nines, my new book to be published in September 2026, brings to a conclusion a historical golfing journey that began with The Gentry Links Trilogy.

 

Although my new book is a portrait of my father, Niel Loudon, and his years serving The Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews it continues the same underlying inquiry: tracing the evolution of the ‘modern game’ through the people whose lives are captured in its defining images.

 

When reviewing The Gentry Links Trilogy, the golf historian and former USGA executive Rand Jerris identified what he regarded as its distinctive contribution. Golf historians had traditionally relied principally upon written records: minute books, correspondence, newspapers, periodicals and other documentary sources.

 

The Trilogy demonstrated that visual imagery could also serve as historical evidence. The paintings at the centre of the work were not treated simply as illustrations. By identifying the individuals portrayed, examining their relationships and situating them within their social and economic context, it became possible to recover meanings that are not immediately visible on the surface of the canvas. Rand described this as an advance in the methodology of golf scholarship. That observation emphasised my approach that the books were not simply three interesting histories, but were a sustained reading of the development of the game through its visual record.

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The three paintings at the centre of The Gentry Links Trilogy belong to different periods of nineteenth-century golf. Each captures a particular company of golfers at a significant moment in the game’s development.

 

The earliest painting is Sir Francis Grant’s The First Meeting of North Berwick Golf Club, 1832, originally known as The Fathers of North Berwick Golf Club. It records the formation of a Club within the social world of the Scottish gentry, at a time when the meaning of ‘gentleman’ itself was beginning to evolve. The figures at North Berwick represent more than the founders of a single Club. Their family, professional and social ties reveal the networks through which golf spread, including, specifically to Prestwick and the first Open Championship of 1860.

 

The second work is Charles Lees’ The Golfers: The Grand Match Played over the Links of St Andrews on the Day of the Annual Meeting of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club, 1847. At first sight it depicts a foursomes match on the Old Course. In fact, its significance lies as much in the assembled spectators and their relationships as in the match itself. It offers a broader portrait of society, at home and abroad, in which golf was then played. It also belongs to a moment of impending change. The introduction of the gutta-percha ball reduced the cost of play and increased durability. The game was moving towards greater economic accessibility and wider geographical reach.

 

The third painting moves the story forward by almost half a century. Alexander Hamilton Wardlow’s Captain Driving Off, more commonly known as Medal Day at St Andrews, 1894, is a vast collective portrait containing 191 figures. At its centre, Old Tom Morris tees the ball for the incoming Captain of The Royal and Ancient Golf Club, the Right Honourable Arthur James Balfour. Around them stand champion golfers, Captains and officeholders, including men who would later serve on the first Rules of Golf Committee in 1897. By 1894, the modern game was coming of age.

 

Taken together, the three paintings trace a progression: from the gentry networks of 1832, through the widening accessibility of the game after 1847, to the institutional coherence and international expansion visible in 1894. They are not simply representations of golf, but collective portraits of the people through whom it evolved.

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The nineteenth-century story did not end in 1894. It provided the foundations for the game’s development in the early twentieth century. That next stage is explored in another new book, Origins 1926, based on Anthony Oakshett’s painting that transposed a photgraph into a classic work of art, which he titled The Origins of the Ryder Cup, 1926. By this time, the gentlemen golfers of the nineteenth century had been joined by a generation of professionals in 'The Golden Age' whose skill and public profile were reshaping the game. International competition, transatlantic travel, media coverage and commercial interest were bringing golf to full maturity as a modern sport. The faces in the painting provided the entry point; identifying them and following their connections revealed the wider institutional and international forces at work. Origins 1926 therefore forms a bridge between the world of the Trilogy and the later twentieth century.

 

Beyond this point, however, the nature of the visual record changes. The defining group portraits are no longer primarily painted. They are increasingly photographic.

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A Life’s Two Nines continues the inquiry into the period between 1963 and 1981. Its central figure is my father, Niel Loudon, who served the secretariat of The Royal and Ancient Golf Club for that period. The title reflects both the structure of a round of golf and the two halves of his life. The first nine traces the experiences that prepared him for St Andrews. The second covers his eighteen years in office during a period of significant institutional change. The book is a son’s portrait of his father, but it is not a conventional family memoir. Niel’s career provides a way of examining a formative period in the history of The Royal and Ancient Golf Club and in the international administration of the game.

 

The photographs in the book perform a function similar to the painted portraits in iconic Scottish art. They identify key figures, reveal relationships and situate individuals within their institutional context. Photography is, therefore, a continuation, in a different medium, of The Gentry Links Trilogy. The form has changed, but the images still function as historical evidence.

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When my father joined the R&A in 1963, he did so immediately following the Club’s 1960 Strategic Review. Tradition remained central, but the administrative responsibilities of the game had expanded significantly. The Club occupied a distinctive position: a private members’ club with deep traditions, yet also a body with responsibilities extending far beyond its membership.

 

The Open Championship required a more modern approach. The Rules of Golf required close cooperation with the United States Golf Association with the game rapidly expanding globally. These were not abstract institutional links. They depended on personal trust and long-standing relationships.

 

Photographs record this transatlantic working world in much the same way that the earlier paintings recorded the social networks through which golf first spread. The outward form is different. Wardlow’s painting shows a ceremonial gathering on the Old Course in 1894. The photographs of the 1960s and 1970s show golf's administrators and officials in meetings and committee rooms. Yet both belong to the same visual tradition.

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One collection of photographs particularly caught my attention: photographs associated with meetings held during the 1979 Walker Cup at Muirfield. The fact that my father had kept them separately intrigued me. Their timing coincided with his appointment to the newly created position of External Secretary of the R&A, with responsibility for all aspects of the R&A's roles in golf's governance. The men in these photographs came from many parts of the golfing world.

 

I came to think of them as the ‘Titans of the Modern Game’—not because they were necessarily champion golfers, not because they sought attention, but because, through patient cooperation, they helped build the international governance structure we recognise today. The photographs had become the twentieth-century equivalent of the collective portraits that first prompted my research into nineteenth-century golf.

 

My father retired in 1981. That year, the USGA Executive Committee recorded a formal tribute to his contribution to golf and to the relationship between the two governing bodies. He did not seek prominence, yet his role placed him at the centre of a period in which an ancient institution adapted to the demands of a global game.  But retirement did not bring rest and my father, working closely with ‘PJ’ Boatwright Jr., created the first Decisions on the Rules of Golf.

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Sir Francis Grant’s golfers of 1832 show the networks linking with Prestwick and the first Open Championship of 1860. Charles Lees’ figures of 1847 stand at the threshold of a more accessible game with equipment change. Wardlow’s assembly of 1894 captures its coming of age and the chosen rule maker. Oakshett’s 1926 professionals represent golf's maturity as an international sport. The photographs in A Life’s Two Nines carry the story into the era of modern administration and global governance.

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Thank you for 'attending' my Virtual Launch!

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To those Members who have already supported this initiative, thank you. I hope you enjoy reading A Life’s Two Nines and discovering stories about our Club that have rarely been told.

 

​To those who have not yet purchased a copy, I hope this ‘Virtual Launch’ encourages you to do so, and further the project's support for The R&A Foundation.

 

Alastair J. N. Loudon


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August 2026