History
Founded in 1888 by John Reid of Dunfermline,United States Golf Association
Along with fellow Empire State club Shinnecock Hills Golf Club, Illinois's Chicago Golf Club, Rhode Island's Newport Country Club and Massachusetts's The Country Club, Saint Andrew's Golf Club was, in 1895, one of the five founding members of the United States Golf Association, one of the sport's two major governing bodies.In popular culture
Over the final two decades of the 20th century, the course was featured in a handful of articles inReferences
External links
* Greenburgh, New York Golf clubs and courses in New York (state) Sports venues in New York (state) 1888 establishments in New York (state) {{NewYork-sports-venue-stub, "Silent Tom" Saunders=Re: Fred Novak, PGA Pro, Saint Andrew’s Golf Club Died: March 13, 1973 Letter from “Silent Tom” Saunders to Don Clark Dear Don…. They buried the “Old Pro” today – up there on a very “hilly lie” right on a knoll – that overlooks in the distance - the rolling fairways of the old Saint Andrew’s Golf Club links….that he loved so dearly. I keep thinking that it was only fitting that you should be the one to notify me of the passing of our old pal. Afterwards his son called me….but it was you….who gave me a chance to sit and meditate on the guy….as I knew him….in another place….at another time. I took a fast run up to the Funeral Parlor on Tuesday afternoon – for I wanted to see Mary alone….and sit with the corpse in silent reverie. His son was there – the first time I had met him - and they all made me feel quite like an “old friend of the family”…… As you can well understand I did not know the man lying there on that lavender pillowed casket….the corpse – in appearance was a stranger to me. So I had to go back in my “window of Memory”….and conjure up the impressions of a long time ago. And coming into focus was a time when I first came upon Fred Novak. He of the quick gait….the nervous quick stepping stride….and panther like movements of the good athlete and that almost silly greeting….”Keep Smiling”….(Yeah keep smiling even if you have a toothache) That was the time I first arrived at the Old Club. Alec Edgar had just come off the “Greens” to be Manager - Mr. Cambell was the “Bookeeper”….and I was to be the “Desk Clerk”….on that small switchboard with the two desk and tables….backing oblong the fireplace where sets the plaque of old “John Whats his Name”….the Father of Golf…. And the dour Scot….Walter was Bartender….and he looked upon me then with suspicion….for he thought I was one of the “Manager’s spies” After wards when we became good friends we joked about it. Chef Otto was in the Kitchen with that old Houseman who died in Grasslands….and was later replaced by your “right arm” ….now, our boy Nick. I forgot who was on the dishwasher….but I recall “Mike” the wild eyed weirdo was Waiter……Jack Obrien was in the Locker Room….and Don…. “The Lugger from Armours” was the “jack of all trades”….on week-ends…. The Pro Shop was the last of the old “school” type….with the pot bellied stove….and the odors of shellac….and rosin…..and damp leather and moulding “wood shaft” clubs rotting in the corners. Not to mention the perfume coming in the window from the “pissery” up at the old Caddie Shack….where the conniving Mickey DiFate held forth….browbeating his caddies into buying his rotten hot-dogs….and his stale day old “Twinkies” Such the “scene is laid” in my mind’s eye. And I think further There was fun and we laughed as we worked. There was always a joke and a yarn with Old Jim Stanley as he came off the fairways….and jokes and fun watching the “fights” on T.V….as he and Walter sipped the quality bourbon….and I listened to the booming voice in the locker room….of Don Clark singing at the top of his lovely voice….a good Irish Ballad….as he did the final clean up….chore…. on a late late….closing night. I sit now in the Funeral Parlor….on the day of the funeral….and there is Cy Cleary saying the “funeral prayer”. It seems Fred had requested no Mass….and I guess he had his reasons….if one knows the “story behind the story”. Anyway he had requested that Cy say the Rosary at the Wake….and he did….and now here he was in front of the casket….reciting the last short Litany…. Kept thinking of the Family….and the staunch Catholics that they were. And I thought of all the good deeds that Fred had done….who was more “catholic” than many of the phonies roaming the world with their “lip service”….and their hypocritical living. Alas if ever a decent guy deserved a High Mass for the Dead….it was Fred Novak. But it was not to be….and you know something….it seemed more fitting to see Cy Cleary….the “old time Caddie” and faithful Friend to the man in the casket….stumbling over some of the strange words in the Burial Ritual…. Kept thinking of the “absence of the Club Members”. Not a one was there. No trace of the Old Pros either….Where were the likes of the famous Turuesa Brothers he played with….where were the Sarazens….and the Farrells….and some of the Old Timers….he knew….in the days when Fred Novak….was one of the “sincere Golf pioneers”….who was responsible in the bringing about the P.G.A. as it is today. Alas. Years ago…the “Board” would have all donned their red coats and their Balmorals….and had a drink at the bar of the Old Club….and then hied off to the “wake”….and later return to drink and mourn a fellow golfer now gone….But all gone. And then I realized that Fred “buried” most of them….and none left. Even today I daresay that most of your members when passing that portrait that hangs on the wall….have to say “Who’s that guy”? As the small cortege….turned into Broadway and past the Old Armory I could not help but think….”if this happened twenty years ago….they would have stopped the Traffic” to let the long parade of people mourning the “Old Pro….” So it went….and Fred, Jr…..insisted that I ride in the second coach…..so I took the last ride….with “The Old Pro.” Passing some of the landmarks….I kept thinking of people and places – I thought of you and Old Jim Stanley and how happy you made him in his last days with your trips to Bear Mountain….and Oh, a flood of things. And there was a prayer at the grave….we placed the flowers on the casket….and then we left. I rode home across the river and over the bridge….and to sit and write to you….probably the only guy who “understands….”poor Sentimental Tommy” Now I think….did it ever occur to you that one day you would be the only one left who would be considered the “Old Timer of the Club”. Walter….Otto….Jim Stanley….and others gone to eternity….or misplaced here the there. You’re the only one left….and who can you talk to….who would “understand”. Maybe I should come up to see you….and we’ll sit and “talk” Oh, I forgot to mention the final gesture….I took a new Kroflight and I had Fred, Jr….press it in those strong hands of the dead Fred Novak….I thought he would feel a little less lonely….with the golf ball in his fist…. So God be with us all….on the approach shot to St. Patrick’s Day Take care of yourself….Old Friend….there’s only a few of us left. Say a “Hail Mary for me”….and I’ll do the same for you….Till we meet again. Yours in fond memory, “Silent Tom” Saunders.