have never been greyer.

As the fog lifts on wintry mornings

at some of the city's premier clubs,

it's mainly older men stalking the

fairways, talking of grandchildren,

trips away with the caravan and of

mates who've marked their last card.

The older gents are happy to have

the picturesque courses mainly to

themselves. There's no big-hitting

young bucks hurrying them along,

and they don't need to book a tee-off

time much in advance.

The problem is that while the clubs

they wield are bigger than ever in an

age of titanium-headed monsters,

the clubs they hold membership at

are shrinking.

Golf in this city and Australia-wide

is suffering from the disappearance

of what was once its bread-and-

butter player the family man.

During the week he's too busy

putting in long hours at the office to

contemplate a full round. Then on

the weekends he's everywhere dropping

children at sport or doing his

share of the housework.

Even if he had time, he's unlikely

to want to commit to a traditional

golf membership. He wants options,

not to be tied down to one course or

one sport.

Canberra clubs are estimated to be

losing 5-10 per cent of their membership

base each year. In other cities

it's worse.

Some observers fear that if golf

can't start attracting a younger and

more diverse membership, it risks

becoming the new bowls a sport of

the elderly.

In the short term that wouldn't be

a bad thing for some clubs, particularly

those in older, leafier suburbs.

As the baby boomer generation ages,

many financially sound, time-rich

retirees will return to the course.

Federal Golf Club member Keith

Fanner, 58, had largely abandoned

his clubs for much of his working life,

but now has time for regular rounds.

''When my kids got old enough to

play organised sport, you're having

to drive them around to athletics and

soccer ... So I just played when I got

an opportunity. If I was lucky, I might

get a game on a Sunday morning,'' he

said.

The appeal for many older golfers

is camaraderie rather than competition.

Proving that golf can be a

game for a lifetime, many play on

until their death.

Former South Melbourne Australian

footballer and long-time Federal

member Don Scott, 78, said, ''At

my age you go through a lot of

partners. I've played with a great list

of blokes who are not here any

more.''

And there lies the concern for

clubs and the sport as a whole.

During their working lives,

members of generations X and Y will

generally have viewed golf as too

expensive, time-consuming or old-

fashioned. After the boomers and

their predecessors have played their

last rounds, they can't be relied on to

suddenly take an interest in the sport

once they hit 65.

The irony isn't lost on anyone in

golf that at a time when the sport in

Australia is losing its traditional

membership base, our elite exports

are doing as well as ever.

Twelve Australian men and five

women including Canberra's Brendan

Jones and Nikki Campbell are

in the respective world top-100 lists.

This is one reason why the golf

industry as a whole remains bullish.

It saw the way Greg Norman sparked

a participation boom and believes

the same can happen again.

However, it knows it can't just wait

for another star of the majors, it must

change the way it sells its product to

new generations.

Social researcher Mark McCrindle

said golf had lost its standing of the

1980s, when it was a status sport and

an essential pastime for the

ambitious businessman.

''In the entrepreneurial age, the

geeks and technologists just aren't

into it,'' Mr McCrindle said.

''It's not the professionally based

world of dentists and doctors and

golf memberships any more.

''Golf is just not working out in our

changing society and unless it

changes what it offers people, it's

heading towards oblivion.''

The disappearance of the young-

to-middle-aged golfer has already

forced huge change to the relationship

between club and member.

In the past a would-be member

had to approach a club cap-in-hand

and almost beg for membership.

They had to endure long waiting

lists, have existing members vouch

for their character, pay enormous

nomination fees and even then, if

accepted, they were only ''provisional''

for the first couple of years.

By the time golfers of past decades

finally gained full membership at

their club, they'd staked so much in

it they felt committed for life. Now

the scales have tipped and supply of

memberships at even some of the

best clubs vastly exceeds demand.

Clubs are now the ones bending

over backwards. In the 1990s an adult

wanting to join Federal on Red Hill

would have had to pay a $2500

nomination fee before even considering

annual course fees. Today,

anyone on a half-price nomination

day can be accepted for $475.

Club professional Stephen Tieck

said, ''The market was happy to pay

big fees back then.

''People aspired to the clubs that

charged a lot of money because they

were the best courses.''

Royal Canberra is the only club in

this city insulated from the effects of

social change and still able to charge

the big sums of the past. It still has a

waiting list for membership.

Club general manager Ian Trevena

said Royal, like a few clubs in Sydney,

Melbourne and Adelaide, had not

been forced into compromising its

traditional approach.

''We have fairly strict dress

standards... and we tend to adhere

to golfing traditions more than some

other clubs do. I think there will

always be people who respect that.''

Elsewhere, traditions are being

turfed out for survival's sake. Dress

standards have been relaxed at some

clubs. Others are turning quaint old

clubhouses into family entertainment

centres with better restaurants,

gyms and child-care facilities.

Time demands have made the

traditional 18-hole round a luxury

few can afford. Nine-hole competitions

will soon be commonplace.

Golf Australia game development

manager Nick Green (of Oarsome

Foursome rowing fame) said clubs

needed to convince people they

could ''go down for a whack, pay 15

bucks and not worry about intricate

details of rules and dress codes, just

have fun''.

Some clubs are looking at paring

the game back even further to three-

hole events to attract players after

work.

Others may embrace speed golf,

where players run between shots.

Although Federal general manager

Scott Elias quipped, ''That mightn't

be a good idea with our membership

... we'd have a lot of heart attacks to

worry about.''

For all the shared concern about

how changing population and social

behaviour is affecting their sport,

there's still optimism among Canberra

clubs.

ACT Monaro District Golf Association

president Jim Hourigan said

outlying clubs were benefiting from

expanding suburbs on the city's

fringes and links with football clubs.

Junior numbers at some clubs

were much better than five years ago,

thanks to massive price reductions.

''They're not all going to keep on

playing, but they'll have been taught

golf and when they turn 40 or 50 and

have kids out of the way they can take

it up again,'' he said.