Carnarvon received a letter of correspondence from Member - Russell Cox, recently and believe it’s worth the read.
We appreciate all who advocate for Carnarvon, as we simply do not want to be converted into cemetery space.
Russell’s personal story allows us to look beyond golf as a sport and understand the true human and community value of Carnarvon Golf Club.
Have a read below
The Man Who Looks Away to Play
On a late afternoon at Carnarvon Golf Club, I played alongside a golfer who reminded me that golf is about far more than scorecards, handicaps, and trophies.
He has glaucoma.
Most golfers stand over the ball and focus intently on it before swinging. We look directly at the ball. He cannot. To see it properly, he has to turn his head almost at a right angle. While the rest of us address the ball straight on, he is effectively looking away from it.
Yet he still plays.
He still walks the fairways, enjoys the company of his mates, shares a laugh after a wayward shot, and experiences the satisfaction of a well-struck drive.
Watching him was inspiring. Not because he was seeking sympathy. Quite the opposite. He simply wanted to enjoy a game he loves.
It made me think about what a golf course really is.
To some people, Carnarvon Golf Club may appear to be just a large piece of open land. To its members, it is something far more important. It is a community. It is a place where retirees stay active, where friendships are formed, where people recover from illness, where mental health is supported, and where people with physical limitations can continue enjoying life.
The golfer I played with is a perfect example.
Without facilities like Carnarvon, opportunities for people living with vision impairment become increasingly limited. Golf provides exercise, social interaction, fresh air, purpose, routine, and a sense of achievement. It gives people a reason to get out of the house and engage with others. These benefits cannot be measured simply by the value of the land on which the course sits.
When politicians view a golf course only through the lens of development opportunities, they miss the human stories that unfold there every day.
The debate about proposals by Premier Chris Minns' government to convert portions of golf course land to other uses often centres on economics, housing, or planning. But there is another side to the equation: the people.
People like the gentleman with glaucoma.
If Carnarvon Golf Club were to disappear, it would not just be the loss of fairways and greens. It would be the loss of a place where someone facing significant visual challenges can still participate in sport, enjoy companionship, and retain a connection to the community.
During the same period, I also played with two junior brothers, one of whom is battling leukemia.
He was never going to win a competition. In truth, he was fortunate simply to have the strength and stamina to complete the round. Yet that didn't seem to matter. More than anything, he just wanted to play golf. He wanted to be out on the course, enjoying the fresh air, spending time with his brother and fellow golfers, rather than being cooped up at home.
Watching him walk those fairways was another reminder of what golf is really about. For some people, success in golf is measured by trophies, grades, handicaps and prizes. But the game's real value lies elsewhere. Golf teaches resilience, gratitude, patience, humility and perspective. It teaches us to appreciate opportunities that others can only wish for.
Standing on the course with a young boy facing challenges far greater than a difficult bunker shot or a missed putt, it was impossible not to reflect on what truly matters. Some people spend their golfing lives chasing victories. He was simply grateful for the chance to play. In many ways, that made him one of the day's biggest winners.
The value of Carnarvon is not measured in hectares.
It is measured in stories.
Stories of veterans, retirees, families, and people overcoming physical challenges. Stories of friendships that have lasted decades. Stories of people who continue to find joy, dignity and belonging despite the obstacles life places in front of them.
And perhaps the most powerful story of all is that of a golfer who has to look away from the ball to see it, yet keeps turning up every week because golf gives him something worth seeing.
That is what Carnarvon Golf Club really represents.
Not a parcel of land.
A community worth preserving.
- R. Cox