There are times when I sit down at my desk and start thumping the keys of my keyboard when I wonder what earth I am going to witter on about this week. Then there are other days when there is a veritable cornucopia of topics to highlight, and it then becomes tricky to decide which to include. Being a "having your cake while eating it" kind of guy (ok, like most men, if we're honest), I am going to attempt to get everything in Firstly, we must address the elephant in the room, the reputation that all of us, as golfers struggle with, the world over. The one that has been the butt of some vicious, if accurate jokes - I am of course referring to the idea that golfers and sartorial elegance are not often welcome bedfellows. Now, I will put my hand up and say that I am not exactly what you would call a slave to the fashion industry. Having seen some of the outfits that my father has had the downright gall to wear has proven to me that an eye for style is just not part of my genetic make-up. In fact, I am rarely allowed to actually shop for my own clothes anymore, my good lady wife taking proper control of that department. Even I, however, would not have left the house dressed in the ensemble that Dave Schrades was sporting yesterday. I can only assume that Mrs Schrader was in the shower or otherwise engaged as he made his escape having clearly grabbed the first three items of clothing that he came across (presumably in the dark). It occurs to me that perhaps we need a style consultant on the Committee to dispense warnings and fines to offending members. The clubs coffers would be brimming within a week. Secondly, I was approached by a Mr J Annett (aspiring PGA Tour Pro, part time scuba diver/ball retriever) yesterday, keen as mustard to describe in great detail the woes of a Mr F Ng. Mr Ng had had to pay the forfeit of a shot (very generous shots I might add) of whiskey to his playing partners following his flailing, failed swing at the golf ball where he connected with nothing but an innocent flax bush that had simply been minding it's own business until Freddie came along and put his ball underneath it. There was then apparently some discussion about what constitutes an air shot (or as you locals call it, a "gin shot")? The argument going that, in this case, Mr Ng had not committed an air shot as he had made contact with the flax bush (and the ground apparently), therefore it could not be an air shot. The counter argument would be that he missed the ball entirely therefore according to the social lore of the game, it's drinks on Freddie. I fall in favour of the second argument, simply as I have to assume that Freddie, when taking his stance, would have been addressing the ball, not the flax bush. I also hope that he apologised to the unfortunate flora for his behaviour. Lastly, it was a tough day on the course yesterday, a cold southerly blustering it's brutal way through a course that is rock hard, making it nigh on impossible to stop balls on the greens that were grateful for the small smattering of moisture that the showers brought. Still with greens that hard, at least you don't have to worry about repairing pitch marks as you'd need a stick of dynamite to create one in the first place. Anyway, I digress, what I wanted to talk about was the vagaries of the game, and how defeat can be snatched from glory in the most cruel of ways. I had the pleasure of playing with Geoff Spurdle, Merv Caulfield and Daniel Sparks yesterday, and conditions aside, it was a lot of fun, even if I had forgotten that the aim of the game is to actually get the sodding ball into the hole. Daniel, on the other hand, had no such issues, and was playing a blinder, including two outrageous pars on two of the toughest holes in the course following his two worst drives. On arriving back at the clubhouse as one of the later groups, the scores reflected the conditions, with a net 71 top of the scoreboard, and anyone with a net score around the mid 70's having played exceptionally (I noted that Barrie made the most of his height advantage to keep out of the worst of the wind). Daniel was, therefore, rightly proud to have scored a net 65, 6 whole shots clear of the rest of the field, a fantastic round of golf leading to hearty congratulations and even a cheer from the members in the clubhouse. No doubt the winner on the day. Or so we all thought, as no more than 5 minutes later, a new score was posted at the top of the leaderboard as Allan Booth came home in net 62. An outrageous score in the conditions, and congratulations to Allan for what must have been one of the rounds of his life, in tough conditions. Commiserations to Daniel for a creditable and unexpected second place. Both Allan and Daniel can look forward to having their handicaps quite rightly slashed in the near future, the rest of us want a chance too. Stay safe, play well and I look forward to seeing you all out there Steve |