Round 4 - Stick the flag right up yer ar$e

After the fireworks of round 3 it was back to meat and potatoes golf for the first half of round 4, we couldn’t get anything going. Conditions were ideal, dry, not a breath of wind, only the zero temperatures spoiled it. Keith’s brother, Jack, played too, he was limbering up for a game at The Old Course the following day. He trudged the first seventeen holes with us before bailing out, the 18^th at Stoney claiming another victim unprepared to clamber from the green back up to the locker room.

Jack casually birdied the 1st to take the honour only to dump two balls out on the 2nd, I'd soon dragged him down to my level.  His presence was important, not for his sparkling repartee although  that's always a bonus, but because the pair of us needed a referee following the argy bargy the previous week, Keith complaining (amongst other things) about my unwillingness to replace flagsticks before vacating greens. He’s so small time that he took the attached photo for posterity, claiming this was the first flagstick I’d replaced in 28 holes of golf. He’s so petty.

 

Which brings me to a letter I received following my report on round 3 last week, a letter which accused me of shameful bias regards my own performance while deriding my partner’s efforts. I won’t embarrass the author by revealing his identity so let’s just refer to him by surname, Douglas. No, on second thoughts, we’ll just call him by his Christian name, Keith. The letter was vitriolic, accusing me of undermining the valiant efforts my partner had made the previous week, at least I think that was the gist, I could barely decipher the childlike handwriting, poor grammar and diabolical spelling. Anyhow, I brought this letter up with Keith at one point during the round…

“ We really ought to rediscover the harmony in this partnership Keith” I suggested. “ After all, there’s no ‘I’ in team”.

“ Aye, but there is in prick” he responded. He’s got no class that one. 

Despite our differences we soldiered on, exchanging pars until bogeys on 6 and 9 blotted the copybook. It was the 11^th before our first birdie (Keith) but we handed that advantage straight back with a bogey on 12. I’d lost patience with him fluffing his lines by the time we reached the gully so decided to take control of the situation. I birdied 14, drained a lengthy par putt on 15 and slammed in a birdie on 17. No messing. Someone needed to take the bull by the horns and thankfully my birdie blitz shamed Keith into upping his game, he birdied 16 and despite his best efforts, avoided a three putt on the last to notch a closing par. We ended with a 65, not earth shattering but respectable, a decent day’s work in contrast to my football team (Aston Villa) who were playing Arsenal at precisely the same time. We ‘shared’ two goals with them but weren’t at all greedy with our share, let’s put it that way. We were overly generous in fact. 15 games, 6 points, we’re goin’ down. As for the golf, I’m taking my A game next weekend and no mistake, watch out for an eye bleeding score.

PS. I mustn't go without mention of  Jack's headgear. It’s a shame I didn’t take my camera. He wore a bright red skin-tight head sock, an apparent cross between a bandana and a prophylactic. Standing on the 14^th tee he looked like Charlie Chan, the head sock stretching his eyelids skywards, all he needed was the fake moustache. Calling the fashion police....