The squeamish amongst us were sorely tested during the organ recital after our game had finished and we were safe from dying from heat exhaustion. The recital was dedicated to the memory of the sundry pieces of bric-a-brac that various members had had inserted into their JTs by seemingly unfeeling and unimpressed members of the NHS. Opinions varied as to how much pain ensued but ensue it did, which left the rest of us hoping to avoid a similar fate. I guess it might be possible to get such procedures done in Amsterdam’s Red Light district where a few euros well spent might make the whole event an entirely different experience but even that might be a risk too far.
We had all just survived the baking hot concrete fairways of Temple, Stuart by quite wisely deciding that 14 holes was enough torture for one day. We were buoyed up at the start by reports of a golfer elsewhere who had scored a 411 yard hole-in-one – all I can say is that this particular hole must have been going down a valley where all paths led to the hole unlike in Temple, where all holes shed balls left and right off the tilted fairways. There is just the 6th hole where it might be possible and PeterR did record a 250 yard drive straight down the middle on that one so hope springs eternal.
Peter was enjoying a particularly good round where he seemed to be able to conjure pars from the most unlikely places e.g. the bushes behind the Par 3 8th hole, and a couple of them were worth 4 points. He had also retrieved an antique putter from the back of the garage and it was so happy to be playing again that it thanked him with a whole variety of successful putts from unlikely positions. This can be an Achilles Heel for Peter and he thoroughly enjoyed not missing 3 foot putts. He also contrived not to lose a ball despite the random bounces we all endured.
I lost 3 balls which is not normal for me and one of them was a brand new BB ball – it was in such pristine condition that I am sure it will be returned when the finder identifies the logo. These losses generally came about when the heel or the toe of my club came into contact with the concrete lie before I had hit the ball which caused the clubface to rotate about 90 degrees from the intended line of travel which in turn brought the local nettles and brambles into play and, call me a coward if you want to, but, wearing shorts, I decided that the 1 shot penalty was better than the pain of trying to find the ball.
My other team-mate MikeW was suffering radar problems inducing complete uncertainty as to where his ball was going to go. A heavy fade left into the boondocks was followed by an attempt to allow for this by hitting the ball over to the right of the fairway at which point the ball decided to just go straight right. He had inadvertently bought a box of yellow balls thinking they were white, but decided yellow was an advantage when it came to looking for the ball in the rough. This can only have been a marginal benefit because he had run out of yellow balls by the time we reached the 15th hole.
We did think that Temple are missing a trick by not opening the Halfway Hut to sell Bacardi and Coke with a load of ice – it would definitely make the back 9 more tolerable. None-the-less we did make it into the clubhouse and shared the aforementioned chat as well as a long discussion on how Alan might deal with a problem whereby one of his doors has warped in the heat and won’t lock properly – PeterR seemed confident that an approach he had once tried on an Airbus 320 should work and offered help.
The team results were a bit of a walkover and Stuart’s early shower didn’t really effect the outcome:
MikeW, PeterR & Richard: 42 + 38 = 80
Alan, RobA & Stuart: 31 + 25 = 56
The individual results for the league were equally emphatic with a clear victory for PeterR:
Peter (37), Richard (30), Alan (28), MikeW (27), Stuart (19) and RobA (16).
There is one game left to play in the Summer League and, as it stands, MikeW, PeterR and myself have the chance to win but, to do so, they must win the final game on September 9th.
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