Flags and emblems of the Irish variety were, it seems, as much a curse in the embryonic days of American golf as they are to the current peace process in Northern Ireland. And all because our brethren in the New World became keen followers of golfing fashion.
Members of the St Andrews Club in Yonkers, founded in 1888 by the so-called Apple Tree Gang, felt obliged to take action when upstarts from Shinnecock Hills and Newport paraded themselves in scarlet melton coats, fancy plusfours or flannels, and gaiters resembling elongated spats. So it was that the oldest club in the US adopted their own uniform.
We are informed that they took the most meticulous care in choosing their colours. Firstly, there was the red coat with brass buttons, which was worn by the St Andrews dandies with a blue, checked waistcoat, a pearl gray hat with blue and white bands, gray plus-fours - or knickers as the Americans called them - Scotch plaid hose and gray gaiters. A blue checked cap was worn on the course.
As a further embellishment, the St Andrews coat had a blue collar with the silver cross of St Andrew thereon. The choice of necktie was optional but it had to be worn with the winged collar, which was the badge of a gentleman in those days.
The club also decided to run up their own official colours on the flagpole, so a special flag was ordered. And when it was unfurled in the breezes sweeping off the Hudson River, the members pushed out their chests with pride. But it was short-lived.
A leading member of the club, David Henderson, burst into laughter on seeing the flag. We are told that he then rushed into the clubhouse and instructed the members to take off their scarlet coats. "Get out your green coats and your shillelahs begorrah," he roared. "It's St Patrick's Day in the mornin'."
Even when Henderson told them to go out on the lawn and look at St Patrick's flag, they still didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Eventually, he explained that the flag they were displaying - a diagonal cross on a white field - was St Patrick's cross and that the cross of St Andrew was silver or white, on a blue field. So it was that St Patrick's flag was lowered immediately and the proper standard was later hoisted in its place. Now, the members could be satisfied that the ancient Scottish golfing customs were being properly observed.
It was a time when golfers were fined two shillings if they appeared without their red coat. And in some cases, the fine was a quart of Scotch.
The advent of the 20th century heralded a more relaxed dress code, with plaid Norfolk jackets and plus-fours becoming the norm for the gentleman golfer. After the First World War, the jacket was eventually discarded, to be replaced by woollen tops, either as sweaters or cardigans, so facilitating the straight left arm and high follow-through. And so it remains to this day, though plus-fours and plus-twos have become the exception rather than the norm.
For the benefit of those who may be somewhat confused by those particular terms, they refer to the overlap of material over the top of the knee-length stockings. In other words, plus fours have a four-inch overlap of material while the overlap for plus-twos is two inches.
Fashions changed even more dramatically for women, a development which owed much to a remarkable player by the name of Gloria Minoprio. Ireland's May Hezlet, who achieved extraordinary competitive success around the turn of the century, was also a great advocate for change. As she wrote: "The aim of all lady golfers of the present day must be to abolish the absurd but popular belief, which must have started somewhere, that `a golfing girl' is a weird and terrible creature clad in the most extraordinary garments, striding along with self-possessed walk and oblivious to everything but her beloved game."
Against that background, it is richly ironic that the woman who did most to bring about the change which Ms Hezlet desired, was herself decidedly weird. Indeed The Morning Post likened her to a stage Mephistopheles.
Having entered for the 1933 English Women's Championship at Westward Ho! Ms Minoprio astonished onlookers by arriving on the first tee with a white face, scarlet lips and wearing a dark navy cap, matching sweater and - horror of horrors - trousers. Later, the chairman of the LGU felt obliged to issue the statement: "I much regret that there should be this departure from the usual golfing costume at this championship."
Meanwhile, Ms Minoprio was competing with only one club, a straight-faced implement with which she did everything, including putt. When she lost in the first round, she went straight to her car and wasn't seen for the remainder of the week. But she certainly grabbed the attention of the great scribe Henry Longhurst, who wrote the memorable: "Sic transit Gloria Monday." And the following year, when she actually got through to the second round of the championship, Longhurst wrote: "Sic transit Gloria Tuesday."
Gloria Minoprio remained an enigmatic figure, making her last appearance in a major championship in 1939, when she is believed to have been aged 32. Though she is reported to have died during World War Two, it is claimed by author Lewine Mair in the book One Hundred Years of Women's Golf, that she married a Pole, Stefan Godlewska, and ran a hotel in Vancouver before moving to Nassau where she died from a rare blood disease in March 1958.
As it happened, the timing of her golfing revolution was perfect. With the onset of the War, women in trousers became commonplace. So, when the world was at peace once more, the idea of such attire on a golf course was universally acceptable. Indeed nowadays, shorts are de rigueur in women's events, especially on the professional circuits.
All of which is a long way removed from the early years of the 20th century when Ireland's golden girls, May Hezlet and Rhona Adair, played in the most constricting garments imaginable.
Even in the English Championship of 1924, we are informed that the knitted skirt of one competitor became so saturated with rain that the wearer could no longer move. With her match all square at the 18th, she asked if she might go to the clubhouse and put her skirt through a mangle or, alternatively, get into another garment.
Though there was no known precedent, the LGU agreed to a change of skirt, the player returned and won her match on the 19th. Little did officials realise the dramatic change that lay in wait, a decade later.