It definitely felt like Autumn was upon us yesterday at Huntswood as we played in a strong cold westerly with occasional purple-level heavy showers adding to our joys. The car thermometer read 13°C as I arrived and I am not convinced that it was n’t over-estimating. Perhaps that was the reason why we were diminished in number from what I thought started as 11 and ended up with 8. However 8 made for easy team configuration and off we went to see if we could catch up and overtake Alan in the quest to win Marilyn.
As far as the front 9 holes were concerned, our group which comprised MikeW playing with Bill, and JohnS playing with myself, made 0% progress in pursuit of Alan. It is fair to say that we were all over the place but only rarely on the green in the regulation number of shots, and, if we were, the putting was horrendous. Why is it often so difficult to hit a stationary white ball into an area the size of an old-fashioned dustbin lid surrounding the hole?
If it is all in the mind, it is clearly in a very chaotic area where the neurons are firing in multiple directions bar the one you want the ball to go in. Bill attempts to control the chaos by taking 3 very slow practice passes of the ball with his putter before hitting at a totally different pace. Despite many years of watching this process, not a single Ballbasher has managed to understand the theory. The randomness of the results suggest that it is not advisory to follow the same path. Every single one of us putts in a different way – some jab the ball, some have a big back swing which slows down rapidly as the ball hoves into view, some have their hands upside down, some seem to have the angle of the putter head at 30 degrees to the desired direction of travel, and only very rarely does a Ballbasher hit a purple patch of the type enjoyed by MikeW on the back 9 of which more anon.
Most golf clubs look very similar to each other, for example a 7-iron is much like any other 7-iron unless it happens to be a left-handed club. Drivers can vary a bit in size. But every putter seems to be different from every other putter. Some are simple flat blades and some look like they were designed by a sci-fi enthusiast with bits of metal sticking out everywhere and grips varying in thickness from resembling a pencil to something used in ice hockey. These variations are all part of a plot by the club manufacturers to convince you that, since you cannot control the neurons, you might find a piece of magic technology that will compensate. The obvious answer is that there is no solution other than patience.
John and I managed to score one 3-pointer on the front 9 while MikeW and Bill scored two of them – thereby handsomely beating us but coming nowhere near the 2 teams in front of us. I realised at this point that I had no chance of scoring the upwards of 48 points needed to overtake Alan.
On the back 9, Mike W went on an amazing spree of sinking putts from miles away and rattled up six 3-pointers – this was regardless of the heavy showers which arrived precisely in line with the forecast. This was very positive eclectic-style golf and should see him shooting up the leaderboard.
There was a very loud bunch of electricians playing golf and occupying the entire clubhouse so sadly we had to discover the team results in the car park:
MikeS and Stuart 15 + 6 = 21
PeterR and RobM 16 + 10 = 26 (won the front 9)
MikeW and Bill 6 + 21 = 27 (won back 9 and overall)
JohnS and Richard 3 + 12 = 15
We left without even a warming cup of tea and hope from something more clement when we are in Devon in 2 weeks time.
Richard,
Just a short note on the game yesterday in case it can give a glimmer of hope to fellow Bashers in moments of despair.
After taking only 2 shots on the first hole, one out of bounds and the second into the pond and on a later hole, failing to reach the ladies tee after 3 shots on the 16th and multiple 3-puts, miraculously out of nowhere came 2 decent shots to the edge of the 18th green followed by 2 puts got me a birdie! To paraphrase Eric Morecombe, I seem to use all the right muscles but not necessarily in the right order.
Robert
(Ed. That’s the golfing gods at work – they want you back next week for more torture)