Tommy's Honour Page #2

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Beginner's luck I call it.

Your pup's still got his milk

teeth.

We can always go round again

if you thought it was luck.

I'll see you

in Musselburgh, laddie.

The capital of golf.

Aye, pride in one's town.

It's a fine thing, Willie.

It's a fine thing.

Come on, son.

So says the man

who's won his last open.

Here.

Five pounds?

- Is that all you're giving me?

- Be still. That's your share.

Now get in there, and don't be

telling your mother your winnings.

Give.

Did you see that?

Hole-in-one.

Come on! Whoo-hoo!

Just try your arms by your

side there, young Mr. Morris.

Best just hold it, then.

And hold still.

Well done, Tommy.

Congratulations. Well done.

Thank you.

Give me a drink.

Come on.

Congratulations are in order.

George Atwood

of "the times" of London.

London, really?

Nice to meet you, George.

No one's ever won

the open by such a margin.

David Strath finished second

12 strokes behind.

Truth is, I let my friend win.

I'm a nobleman at heart.

Oh, aye, but a commoner

on the links, too.

And what will you

play for now, Tommy?

Money, glory...

Fun.

It's been eight years,

since colonel Fairlie

and the Earl of Eglinton

asked me to organize

the first open championships.

The Prestwick club

donated a fine

Moroccan leather belt

as a trophy.

And we declared first champion

would hold that belt for one

year

before passing it on

to his successor.

We also declared

that should any man

win that belt three years in a

row,

that man would keep

that belt in perpetuity.

A bit of trickery, that was.

After all,

who could do such a thing?

Not you, Tom Morris. Two wins

in a row was your limit.

Aye, aye.

Aye it was, it was.

I am very, very proud to say

that the ultimate winner

of this prize,

of that belt...

Is my very own son,

Thomas Morris, junior.

Well... the game is

catching on in England.

We have a fine course

in Liverpool now.

In Devonshire,

westward ho has adopted

the St. Andrew standard

of 18 holes.

And Blackheath...

My home club...

Is prepared to take the lead.

We want to be the center

of golf in England.

Perhaps in all the empire.

- Will there be anything else, sir?

- Thank you, no.

Do you know that your serving port

to the champion golfer of Scotland?

Oh, just Scotland?

Aye, well, it's the only place with

golfers of any account, eh, major?

I hear they play

the game in England now,

Liverpool, Devonshire.

That'll be all, miss.

I'm prepared...

To offer you a position.

Position?

Tell me this, Tommy...

What's your future here?

Work in your father's shop?

And one day, rest his soul,

it's your shop.

My work, major,

is emptying the pockets of crack

golfers and their backers.

That's all.

- In Scotland?

- Yeah.

And for every pound here...

It'll be 100 pounds

backing you in England.

As the professional golfer

at Blackheath...

You will be a wealthy man.

Oh, Davie, Davie, watch it!

- Davie, come on. No, no, no.

- Aw, just...

How's your father

gonna manage without you?

He'll have to make

more putts that's for sure.

Who will be partnering him

in his money matches?

No, don't you be angling

for an opportunity.

Eh, I'm just saying.

I think I should make a steady

playing partner for old Tom.

Davie, come on.

Our boy's just about to go away

and conquer England here.

- He is.

- Mm-hmm.

He's going to England.

I can smell the alcohol from

here.

May have had a pint...

Or two.

And where will you be

keeping your belt?

What do you mean?

Did you accept

major Molesworth offer?

Did you seriously think

there would be golf business

in St. Andrews

that I wouldn't know about?

You had scallops and steak

for your luncheon.

And you didn't even finish your

plate.

They've got grand plans

at Blackheath, dad.

My father was a handloom Weaver.

There was nine of us

in two rooms.

I barely had a whisker in my face when

I was apprentice to a golf ball maker.

I worked 16 hours a day and

sent pennies home every month.

- I know this.

- My father...

He earned less money in a

year...

Than you and I

made in one match last week.

I'll be sending money home, dad,

just like you did.

- I will.

- You work for your father, Tommy.

Working for another man, that's

an altogether different matter.

What do you know of Molesworth?

Hmm?

What do you know of England?

I know it'll pay me

twice your salary.

You think of nothing but

yourself.

Dad...

I don't want to spend my days

on my knees teeing up

gentlemen who despise me

who-who think they're better

than me, can you not see that?

What do you think

you'll be doing at Blackheath?

Making my own way!

I would have lost

more than I would have won

without you as my playing

partner these last few years.

I could lose this house.

Your place is here.

Tom!

Tom, the Weaver's son.

Takes three putts

and our Willie takes one.

Tom, Tom the Weaver's son.

Takes three putts

and our Willie takes one.

Aye, you're in Musselburgh now,

old Tom.

No place to tarry

over a four-foot putt.

Park brothers, one up.

I'll give youse boys

a chance to double your bets.

'Cause we're giving Saint

Andrews a thrashing today.

Tommy Morris.

Go back to fife.

Hey, I saw that.

Put it back, you dog.

I'll play it where lays.

Why don't you hit it off

that one's forehead?

Now, now, Kirky.

We'll forgive them their

trespasses.

Here, dad.

Stand back.

Let the man play.

Bugger off,

champion golfer of shite.

He's trying to play a shot,

you idiot!

Tommy!

Two whiskies, please.

They're laughing at us.

What did you expect,

cheers wherever you go?

Musselburgh is Willie park's town.

How much?

- A tuppence, please, sir.

- Thank you.

Thanks.

This is unprecedented.

The St. Andrews gentlemen will

lose their wages if you concede.

Are you conceding the match?

There will be no match

if we're not in it, sir.

That's not for you to say,

Tom Morris.

Go on.

Come on!

This is no golf.

James, time for a pint?

Aye, all right.

That's ready to go.

Is this a Thomas Morris, Jr.

Original?

Oh, no, that's one of Jamie's.

These hands have far more

important work to do.

What like breaking noses

in Musselburgh?

Only a couple.

Dad walked away, though.

"This is no golf."

- Who took home the money?

- Well, not us.

For all I know, the gentlemen

feathered their beds with it.

So, what, you suggesting

I got the first pint?

For starters, aye.

You've got Mr. Campbell's

foursome in half an hour.

He expects you to bring

his new putter.

I will.

Does the Englishman's

offer still stand?

That's not the point.

The point is, I should've

just gone without a word.

Instead, I listened to my dad

again.

Why do I keep doing that?

Now I'm bound to just stay here

doing the same work as him

on the same

bloody patch of ground.

I'm a shackled, man.

See, when I have a son, right,

I'm not gonna tie him down and

tell him what to do all the time.

No, I'll let him choose his own

path.

You see, if he wants to be a

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