A Tribute to Robin Tait: The Heart Behind the Green
For many years, the pristine greens of Girvan Bowling Club have stood as a quiet testament to dedication, care, and craftsmanship. At the heart of that legacy is Robin Tait, a man whose tireless work on the front line of the club’s ground staff has shaped not just the grounds, but the very spirit of the club.
Robin has been a constant presence—early mornings, long days, and countless hours spent tending to the green with precision and pride. His work has never been about recognition; it has always been about doing what needed to be done and doing it well. From preparing the green for play to maintaining the grounds through all seasons, Robin’s efforts have been nothing short of extraordinary.
To honour this remarkable service, a small but heartfelt presentation was held. There were no crowds, no fanfare—just four individuals who knew the depth of Robin’s contribution and wanted to show their appreciation: Jackie, George, Brian, and Club President Kenny Nicol.
In a quiet moment filled with gratitude, Jackie spoke on behalf of the group, expressing their deep thanks for Robin’s years of dedication. They presented him with a truly special gift: a handmade cask, crafted with care by Jackie Ross, for Robin to blend his own whiskeys—a personal and meaningful tribute to a man who has given so much.
It was a simple gesture, but one filled with warmth and respect. In that moment, surrounded by friends and the green he helped shape, Robin’s legacy was honoured not with ceremony, but with sincerity.
Robin Tait’s story is one of quiet excellence, of loyalty, and of love for a place and its people. Girvan Bowling Club is better for his years of service, and those who know him will carry his example forward for years to come.
The Keeper of the Green
For Robin Tait
Beneath the skies of Girvan fair,
Where Sea winds dance through open air,
There lies a green, both proud and wide,
Kept true by one who stands with pride.
No trumpet called, no banners flew,
But every blade of grass he knew.
With steady hands and quiet grace,
He shaped the soul of that fine place.
Through morning mist and evening light,
He worked with care, from dawn to night.
No task too small, no storm too great,
The heart behind it all—was Tait.
Years rolled on, the seasons turned,
And still the green with beauty burned.
Not for applause or fleeting fame,
But love alone had called his name.
And so, one day, with spirits high,
Four friends stood ‘neath the open sky.
Jackie, George, and Brian too,
With Kenny Nicol, proud and true.
They spoke no grand or gilded speech,
But let their gratitude softly reach.
A gift they gave, both rare and fine—
A cask, hand-crafted, aged in time.
For Robin now, to blend and pour,
A dram of thanks, forevermore.
A symbol of the work he’s done,
The battles fought, the greens he’s won.
So, raise a glass, and let it be—
To Robin, keeper of the green and sea.
His legacy, both strong and kind,
Will echo on in hearts and mind.