Alan Shipnuck and Barker Davis delivered memorable rants (here and here) on their Hoylake hotels, but if I were judging the (no chance in hell) Golf Writers Association of America's writing contest award for best British Accommodations story, Bob Verdi's July 28 Golf World rant (not posted) would take the Weekly division prize.
If they can build a Rolls-Royce, why can't they build a shower that works? I stepped into the shower stall the other day, and that's exactly what happened. A shower stall. Instead of a simple knob or handle, there's a control panel that looks like it belongs in an airplane cockpit. Flashing lights, arrows, diagrams, cables, dials. Everything but water. When I attempted to activate the contraption, the spigot just sort of hissed, as if to mock my pathetic body.
I yelled for help, and was informed that, in order to secure hot water, I first must flip a switch. It's 100 degrees and I've got to flip a switch to get warm? And where's the switch? It's in the adjoining room, the one with a toilet. Once water arrives, it does so reluctantly and in wild spurts, occasionally so scalding that you hang from the glass partition, hugging it for safety, as if posing for a chest X-ray.