There is another possible contingency, though as yet a remote one, in which commercialism may infringe injuriously upon the game, and that is in exploiting it as a spectacle and charging “gate money” to the public. Some people say that golf is not a game that can be used as a spectacle like football and cricket; but that is not entirely true. The interest that is created in cricket and football matches is largely of an artificial and manufactured character. A good drive at golf is quite as fine a thing to look at as a snick to the boundary on the cricket field. Where the difference comes in from the public point of view at present is in the fact that in the case of an important cricket match the public are brought to understand that an enhanced value is attached to each stroke, and therefore there is the more interest in watching it played. Would there not be at least as much public interest in watching a great player attempt to hole a curly two-yard putt if a championship or a side wager of a couple of hundred pounds were depending on it? The temperament of the spectator counts for something in this question of what is a good game for a spectacle, and it has to be remembered that the temperaments of the British sporting crowds have been trained towards cricket and football. Fifteen years ago there was not more than a tenth of the number of spectators at the big football matches as there are in these days, though there were practically as many of them played. And that golf has an attraction, which might very easily become an overpowering one for the spectator, was proved when the international foursome between the leading professionals for £400 was played in 1905, when, on three courses in different parts of the country, there was an average attendance of spectators of about ten thousand each day. That was simply because the match had been talked about and a special interest had become attached to it.