What I beheld was a sort of sports platypus. Shinty is played by two teams of large men who run up and down a football field using hockey sticks to hit a baseball into a soccer net. A match lasts 90 minutes, involves 24 players and looks like lacrosse on steroids.

I saw the golf connection immediately. Most players gripped their sticks, known as camans, cross-handed, swatting both forehands and backhands. The curved-face camans seemed to be extremely versatile weapons, capable of hitting the ball off the ground (there were some very impressive tee shots) as well as in mid-flight (a couple of guys had the timing of A-Rod). On several occasions, players also were able to “catch” the ball, stopping it dead on the face of the stick.

Kicking the ball is permitted, as is high-sticking, and most of these manly men do not wear helmets or pads, except at the knees. (It’s no wonder shinty was a big hit back in 1300 with the Braveheart crowd.) That said, the official rules of shinty run a hefty 48 pages, including a seven-point anti-doping policy. In fact, the game I saw involved few penalties and disputes. A tacit code of ethics seems to prevail among the shintymen. It’s as if they know their game is an endangered species that needs to be preserved and protected if it is to survive to the next generation.

The whole brutal ballet was fascinating to watch, and legendary Ronald Ross lived up to his clippings, scoring five goals to lead Kingussie to a 6–0 victory. My only regret was that in opting for shinty, I had missed the chance to play the Kingussie course. But no worries, I’ll be back.

The next time I head for the Highlands I’ll make Kingussie my first stop while taking the clockwise route—north, then east, then south. Or I guess I should call it the left-handed route.