In the words of the great Cole Porter, and as sung by Ella………
What is this thing called golf?
This funny thing called golf?
Just who can solve its mystery?
Why should it make a fool of me?
Why indeed should I be playing 2 weeks ago as though I should be contemplating entering the 2023 Masters with every putt running plumb into the middle of the hole, when, this week, I could n’t hit a barn door if I was standing on the latch? Today I was playing with MikeS and MikeW and, for the first 8 holes, MikeS was playing great carefree golf and mustered 18 points while MikeW and I trailed behind playing as though we had n’t ever seen a golf ball before, let alone tried to hit it in a straight line, especially when putting.
And then the fluence deserted Mike totally as he blobbed 2 holes on the trot and found that his classic approach putt from about 100 yards out totally died in the carpet of leaves he was trying to get through. The fluence then surfaced in MikeW who scored 3 points on every hole from the 13th onwards, ending up with 23 points on the back 9 – he must have chipped stone dead at least 3 times.
As we all know Nick has this concept of being inhabited in turn by Player A or Player B – Player A being akin to Tiger Woods, and Player B more like Freddy Thingummy from Nightmare on Elm Street. It seems to me more that we are playthings of some sort of golfing Will O’ the Wisp as immortalised in Milton’s Paradise Lost:
“…………….Kindled through agitation to a shank
Which oft, they say, some evil spirit (eg Player B) attends
Hovering and blazing with delusive flight
Misleads th’ amaz’d Ballbasher from his way
To hooks and fades, and oft through thins and tops,
There swallow’d up and lost, from succour far………….”
As is now normal these days, a completely un-forecast number of Ballbashers (9 as it happened) turned up to play. 9 is actually a good number as it is easily divisible into 3 without any argument. We then apportioned one buggy-riding golfer to each group to act as a sort of ambulance should anybody run out of puff or functioning knees. Allocating the remaining 6 players to form 3 x 3-player teams also seemed to go without a hitch – perhaps the golfing pre-amble has now been cracked?
It has to be said that the weather was wonderful despite the initial shower coming out of a blue sky and the wonderful rainbow enticing us into a hook or draw off the 1st tee to go in search of the crock of gold, which turned out to be as equally unattainable as a 3 foot putt. Temple was in beautiful condition – I can say this with confidence having slogged through the mud and rain at Harleyford on Monday.
As for the team scores today:
MikeS/MikeW/Richard 37 + 42 = 79
Nick/PeterR/RobM 37 + 35 = 72
Alan/Roger/Bill 27 + 30 = 57
The individual scores were: MikeW (37), Nick and Peter (32), MikeS/RobM/Richard (29), Roger (27), Alan (25) and Bill (15)
I had to depart early to plant some hedges while it was still daylight and I left the rest deep into discussions about fake news, Trump and the normal medical issues – it looked to me as though they might never leave.
