Whatever Happened To... Jacqui Salmond who streaked for golfer Tiger Woods?

Jacqui Salmond now

Wednesday 10th October 2007

The world watched as Jacqui Salmond, 27, from Lochgelly, Fife, revealed all The Open golf in 2000. But what's Jacqui up to now?

Take a good look at me. Do I look familiar? People often recognise me but they don't know where from. You see in July 2000 I was arrested for streaking at the golf open at St Andrews, moments before Tiger Woods hit the winning shot at the 18th hole. I danced around the flagpole with nothing on but my reading glasses. As the cameras flashed, I enjoyed every minute of it but not everyone felt the same. It caused uproar but it was only supposed to be a bit of a joke.

In July 2000 my partner, Ryan Grieg, 27, was watching The Open on telly.
'How can you watch this?' I yawned.
The whisper of the commentator and polite applause were enough to send me into a coma.
Then it hit me. I knew what would get the crowd excited. A streaker. And who better than me?

As a pole dancer at the Burke and Hare pub in Kircaldy, Fife I wasn't shy about flashing a bit of flesh. The appeal of an even bigger audience was just too much to resist.
'That crowd needs a bit of livening up,' I said to Ryan, telling him my plan.
'You what?' he spluttered. 'Go on then.'

So 2 weeks later on 24th July 2000 I dressed in a floaty summer dress with no underwear, dropped our son, Brendan, 3 and 1-year-old daughter, Rhys, off with my mum Jackie Salmond, 46, and drove 20 miles to the famous golf course.
'Nervous?' Ryan asked when we arrived, offering me a can of lager.
But I didn't need any Dutch courage. I was raring to go.

Finally at 3pm Tiger was at the 18th hole. It was time. I pushed to the front of the crowd, crouched down and slipped the strap of my dress off my shoulders.
Fresh air blasted my naked body. It was now or never.

I burst through the cordon and legged it towards the 18th hole, arms in the air and as naked as the day I was born. Adrenalin raced through me as I waited for the reaction. For a moment there was silence, followed by a few gasps and titters.
'Wahey,' one bloke shouted.
Then everyone started cheering as I legged it round the pole.

Egged on by the crowds I even did a little victory dance. But then I spotted two police officers running towards me.
'Enough of that,' one of them said covering me up with a fluorescent police coat.
I was still giggling but then I saw the officer's stern face.
'That was so stupid,' he said as he handcuffed me.
'It was only meant to be a joke…' I whimpered.

At Cupar police station I was charged with breach of the peace and given a white forensics suit to wear. I spent a night in the cells feeling like a criminal. What I'd done began to sink in. Talk about a moment of madness.

Missing Brendan and Rhys like crazy, I wondered what they would make of their mummy showing her bits to the world? The next day I admitted breaching the peace at Cupar Sheriffs Court and was fined £100. The procurator fiscal was scathing.
'Disruption can prove a great distraction to the players,' he said.

'Thank God that's over,' I said to Ryan as we drove home.
'Think again,' he replied handing me a pile of newspapers.
Torn off a strip…naked birdie at the 18th raged the headlines.
Tiger Woods had told reporters that I'd interrupted his special moment. And each headline was accompanied by a big picture of me. Naked.

People all over Britain were gawping at my boobs as they tucked into their cornflakes. A few men looking at me dance in the club was one thing. Now pictures of me in all my glory were all over the county, from breakfast tables to building sites.

But the worst call of all was from Mum. She sounded so disappointed.
'Why did you do it?' she sighed.
'It was just a joke,' I said lamely.
But it didn't feel so funny any more.
Wherever I went people were asking the question, 'aren't you the girl who..?'

Then in July 2001 Ryan and I decided to split. We were still great mates but the spark wasn't there. Shortly after I fell pregnant during a short relationship. When I gave birth to my son John at Forth Park hospital on 4th February 2003 I was prepared to raise him alone.

The only male attention I got was when I was dancing and I wished that I'd meet a bloke who wanted me for more than my figure. And when John was 18 months I got my wish. On a rare night off I was dancing – fully clothed - at Liquid Rooms nightclub in Edinburgh when I saw Colin Snow, 38. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

Before I went home I made sure he had my number. Colin called the next day and set a date a week later. As we stood at the bar of a pub, I played with my straw nervously and listened to Colin telling me about his work as a confectionary salesman.
'And what do you do?' he asked.
I took a deep breath. 'I'm an.. err pole dancer,' I said.
Colin's face fell. 'Oh, ' he said.

After a reaction like that I could hardly go on to tell him that my bum had been on the front of The Sun!
'I'm thinking of quitting the dancing,' I said, desperate to stop him dashing out the door.
But as I said the words I realised something. I meant them. I hadn't been enjoying it since I was in the papers. The next day I handed in my notice at the bar.

Colin was thrilled.
'I don't know if I could date a stripper,' he admitted.
I loved my new lifestyle, curling up in the evenings with Colin rather than wiggling my bum.
I even plucked up the courage to tell Colin about my brush with fame.
'Blimey,' he chuckled. Funnily enough he couldn't even remember the story.
'You must be the only bloke in Scotland,' I said.

I loved my new life but with the kids at school and Colin at work I was bored. In January 2005 I decided to have a clearout.
'I have these to donate,' I said, pushing a bulging bag of clothes over the counter at the British Heart Foundation shop in Lochgelly. The Heart Foundation had always been close to my, well, heart. When I was 6 I was diagnosed with a heart murmur. It meant that I suffered with palpitations but knew that I was one of the lucky ones as I managed to control the condition with a sensible diet.

I spotted a sign.
'Could you help in the shop?' it read.
Perfect.
'I'd love to volunteer,' I said.
They were over the moon. So I went from an erotic dancer/streaker to a loved up lady who works in a charity shop. Talk about a transformation! And two years on I still love my life.
Chatting to the old ladies who come in and giving up my free time for charity gives me a million times more satisfaction than getting my kit off.

From now on I'm happy keeping my curves for myself. And Colin of course.

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