This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/20/sports/golf/20iht-arena20.html

The article has changed 4 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
In a Digital Age, the British Open Clings to Tradition Manual Scoreboards Stoke Rivalries From the Inside Out
(about 1 hour later)
Gullane, Scotland Change comes slowly to the British Open see the all-male membership at Muirfield but it does come. GULLANE, Scotland
The proof this year is in larger-than-life color on the seventh, 13th, 16th and 17th holes, where big LED scoreboards have been installed for the first time for the 142nd edition of this tournament. The all-male membership rules remain in place at Muirfield, but the British Open is embracing a different form of change.
The new screens are much more than scoreboards. They display video highlights of the round under way; head shots and biographical information of the players and up-to-the-moment data on fairways and greens hit in regulation. The proof is on the 7th, 13th, 16th and 17th holes, where large LED scoreboards have been installed for the 142nd edition of the Open.
If you stand close, you can hear them hum with electrical power. Such on-course screens are regular sights on the PGA Tour, but they are a first for any major golf tournament. They display video highlights, photographs and biographical information of the players, and up-to-the-moment data on fairways and greens hit in regulation.
High above the 18th hole on Friday, the sound effects were rather different inside the two big yellow scoreboards that have long guarded the finish at the Open. There were shuffling feet, firmly delivered orders, the sound of plastic letters and name cards being slipped quickly into slots and the occasional cry of victory: “We beat Cranleigh.” Standing close on Friday, one could hear the thrum of the electrical power required to generate all those bells and whistles.
Even in 2013, the most visible and important scoreboards at the Open remain manually operated. And the manual labor has long been provided by students and alumni from two rival boarding schools from the affluent county of Surrey in southeast England: Cranleigh School and Charterhouse School. But high above the 18th fairway, the sound effects were different inside the two huge yellow scoreboards that have long been the twin sentinels at the Open’s closing hole.
The labor force on high at Muirfield is well aware of the paradox in modern teenagers doing such work in an ever-more digital era. There were shuffling feet, firmly delivered orders, the scrape of plastic letters and name cards being slipped quickly into slots, and the occasional cry of victory: “We beat Cranleigh.”
LED revolution or not, the most visible and important scoreboards at the Open remain manually operated. And the manual labor has long been provided by students and alumni from Cranleigh School and Charterhouse School, two rival boarding schools from the affluent county of Surrey in southeast England.
The labor force on high at Muirfield is well aware of the paradox in modern teenagers’ doing such low-tech work in an evermore digital era.
“There’s a bit of irony,” said William Legge, a 16-year-old from Charterhouse. “Obviously with everyone my age, my generation, we’re brought up with iPads and iPods, those sorts of things. So I’m not surprised there are digital scoreboards around the place. But I think doing something that is a manual scoreboard is great. Not only do we get involved in the Open, but it’s traditional.”“There’s a bit of irony,” said William Legge, a 16-year-old from Charterhouse. “Obviously with everyone my age, my generation, we’re brought up with iPads and iPods, those sorts of things. So I’m not surprised there are digital scoreboards around the place. But I think doing something that is a manual scoreboard is great. Not only do we get involved in the Open, but it’s traditional.”
Charterhouse began running one of the two 18th-hole scoreboards at the Open in 1979. According to the school’s head of admissions, Hugh Gammell, the school got the assignment because one of its teachers at the time had done the same job while he was playing golf at Oxford University. Charterhouse began running one of the two main scoreboards at the Open in 1979. According to Hugh Gammell, a teacher who was part of the original group, the school got the plum assignment because one of its instructors at the time had done similar scoreboard work while playing golf at Oxford University.
“When he came to teach at Charterhouse, he booked us in for a scoreboard job,” said Gammell, a 63-year-old with a booming laugh who oversees the Charterhouse operation from a rustic desk and chair on the second floor inside the scoreboard. “When he came to teach at Charterhouse, he booked us in for a scoreboard job,” said Gammell, a 63-year-old with a booming laugh who oversees the Charterhouse operation from a modest desk and chair on the second of two floors inside the scoreboard.
Cranleigh later took command of the other 18th hole scoreboard after being recommended by the same teacher. Through his window, Gammell has a view of the 18th hole and the Firth of Forth, the arm of the North Sea that lies off shore at Muirfield. Cranleigh, located a short drive from Charterhouse, was eventually assigned the other 18th hole scoreboard after being recommended by the same teacher.
“One of the best views in the country, isn’t it?” he said. “Fantastic.” More than 20 years later, posting a leader board update first remains a matter of pride.
Through his window, Gammell can also see the facing scoreboard which sits perched on the opposite grandstand. The students from the two schools track each other’s progress by peeling back the corners of the numbers and letters that have been placed in the scoreboard and peering through the small openings. “It’s quite a big rivalry between us,” said Daniel Federer, a 16-year-old from Charterhouse. “The completion is quite keen, and they were, by the way, really slow yesterday.”
Posting a score update first is a matter of pride. Perhaps, but Cranleigh was faster last year when it really mattered after Ernie Els won at Royal Lytham. Cranleigh was first to post: “Well Played Ernie. See you at Muirfield 2013.”
“It’s a bit of a competition; it’s good to have,” Legge said. “I think we may have lost, unfortunately,” said Harry Light, an 18-year-old from Charterhouse.
Both groups also provide quality control for the other, communicating through the airspace above the 18th fairway and green with walkie-talkies. Each school brought a crew of 18 people, including four staff members. They arrived in Scotland after a 10-hour journey, and this year they are sharing the same campground in nearby North Berwick.
“We keep an eye on them and are quite happy to point out when they make a mistake,” Gammell said, holding up his walkie-talkie. Windows are hard to come by inside the scoreboards, so the rival students track one another’s progress by peeling back the corners of the numbers and letters that have been placed inside the slots and then peering through the small openings.
Cranleigh’s operation is overseen by Sarah Greenwood, a math teacher who is the head of golf at Cranleigh. Both groups also gleefully provide quality control for the other, communicating through the airspace above the 18th fairway and green with walkie-talkies.
“My personal view is this is very antiquated and should be electronic,” she said. “I understand why it’s not: because of the tradition and them wanting to retain that tradition and also the logistics of it, being able to move scoreboards that have to be so big to different locations. If the Open was held in the same place every year, no problem. Wimbledon has gone electronic.” “We keep an eye on them and are quite happy to point out when they make a mistake,” Gammell said, holding up his walkie-talkie. Cranleigh’s team is overseen by Sarah Greenwood, a math teacher who is her school’s head of golf.
So it has. That other British summer sporting staple now has an electronic scoreboard on Centre Court. “My personal view is this is very antiquated and should be electronic,” she said of the manual scoreboard. “I understand why it’s not: because of the tradition and them wanting to retain that tradition and also the logistics of it, being able to move scoreboards that have to be so big to different locations. If the Open was held in the same place every year, no problem.”
But the British Open has company among the majors in the Masters, where no electronic scoreboards can be found on any part of the course at Augusta National. Wimbledon, that other British summer sporting staple, now has an electronic scoreboard on Centre Court. But among the golf majors, only the Masters is at a permanent site, and it has no plan to introduce electronic scoreboards.
“Golf likes that tradition,” Greenwood said. “And that’s why I think it will probably continue. It might be next year, part of the main scoreboard is electronic, but I think probably the leaderboard will continue being manual.” The surprise to the uninitiated is that the manual scoreboards at Muirfield with their stacks of player names and numbers are only manual to a degree. Gammell runs the operation with the help of a hand-held computer that provides updates from the central scoring system. He announces any lead changes to his student crew, who spring from their deck chairs like a bunch of sailors who have just been ordered to raise the jib.
The surprise is that the manually operated scoreboards at Muirfield are only manual to a degree. The tools of Gammell’s summer trade are a handheld computer, which provides up-to-date scores from around the course, and a clipboard to which he attaches score sheets that he fills out by hand. “I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Greenwood said, shaking her head. “But it’s lovely doing it.”
To sum up, the changes in the scoring are delivered digitally and then posted by hand. The same system applies elsewhere on the course, at the smaller manual scoreboards scattered around the other holes. Those are operated by students and others, some of whom are far removed from their teens.
“I don’t know why we’re doing this, but it’s lovely doing it,” Greenwood said. On a low platform next to the ninth green on Friday, Stephen Bull, a 32-year-old from Leeds, had a hand-held computer in his left hand and plastic name cards in his right as he hustled to post updates. He said it was his 15th Open working the scoreboards.
The same system applies elsewhere on the course at the smaller manually operated scoreboards that are scattered around the other holes. But the arrival of the LED screens has reduced the number of such jobs this year, and increased the sense that manual scoreboards are the typewriters of their time.
On a low platform next to the 9th green on Friday, Stephen Bull, a 32-year-old from Leeds, had a cigarette between his lips, a handheld computer in his left hand and plastic cards in his right as he hustled to update the scores. Bull said this was his 15th Open as a scoreboard operator. “These are good because you know exactly which group is coming through next and, more importantly, which player is hitting next, which is really useful from a spectator point of view,” said Kenneth Kilpatrick, a 51-year-old spectator from Glasgow who was standing in front of the LED screen near the 17th green on Friday.
“I think they’ll keep it; it’s traditional isn’t it?” he said. “But I like the idea to have the handheld.” “This is a very difficult sport to keep up with compared to most other sports. Here, it’s not all in front of you, and you don’t know what’s happening in the other parts of the course. This screen is information.”
“It’s a lot easier to replicate this on to that,” he said pointing to the back of the scoreboard. “Or I’d be out of a job.” Constant information and stimulation. And to watch the fans in the grandstand behind the 17th hole on Friday was to watch a group behaving more like a television audience with their eyes on the screen.
But the arrival of the LED screens has reduced the number of such jobs this year and increased the sense that manual scoreboards might be the typewriters of their time. Meanwhile, the Firth of Forth was blue and luminous in the distance; the clouds changed shape overhead, and the next group of players approached from a distance, looming larger but never as large as their head shots on the screen.
“I guess you could say something like that,” said Kenneth Kilpatrick, a 51-year-old from Glasgow who was standing in front of the LED screen near the 17th green on Friday. “We were out on 13 with the electronic scoreboard earlier today,” Gammell said. “And I found it incredibly irritating because it kept switching from one thing to another. There was so much information on it. And then, believe it or not, the screen froze and stuck. So a whole group came through, and we didn’t know who they were. Now with a manually operated scoreboard that doesn’t happen. What you get is the information you need to know. No more.”
“These are good because you know exactly which group is coming through next and, more importantly, which player is hitting next, which is really useful from a spectator point of view,” he said. “This is a very difficult sport to keep up with compared to most other sports. Here, it’s not all in front of you, and you don’t know what’s happening in the other parts of the course. This screen is information.” But IDS, the American company that runs the scoring system and the screens at the Open, will surely debug any of this year’s problems. Manual scoreboards are likely to keep disappearing but perhaps, just perhaps, not to the point of extinction.
Constant information in fact. And to watch the fans in the grandstand behind the 17th hole on Friday was to watch a group behaving more like a television audience, its eyes on the screen. “I think there will always be a manual piece of it,” said Ryan McDonald, senior business development manager at IDS. “If you look at what they do at 18, I don’t see that going away. When the championships are over and they put up ‘Well Played Ernie’, those are little things you’d never be able to match with LEDs. That’s tradition.”
Meanwhile, the Firth of Forth was blue and luminous in the distance; the clouds changed shape overhead, and the next group of players approached from a distance, looming larger but never as large as their head shots on screen.