You play in some pretty cold conditions during the winter
league but this weekend it was beyond
Baltic. We were bedecked in hats, snoods,
scarves, balaclavas and that’s before we left the clubhouse. Try swinging a
golf club when you’re wearing enough layers to set up a chain of clothes stores.
Still, it was dry and the sun was shining, we were grateful for small mercies.
Keith and I were playing our seventh round of the winter
league alongside two senior members, Donald Gordon and Derek Freeland. I went
to school with Donald’s daughter (Tanya) back in the 80s and asked what she was
doing these days. When he explained she was a lawyer in Edinburgh I left the
conversation there, there’s nothing worse than feeling inadequate. I switched
the chat over to Derek only to discover he was the owner of a sizeable local business
so packed in talking to him too. Ego heavily bruised, I buried my hands into my
pockets and walked ahead.
Your ten best scores are aggregated at the end of the league
fixtures to decide upon qualification for the final. We’re in the mix, our scores
are averaging better than par, but we needed to maintain momentum with a good
round this weekend and this we duly delivered (well I did, my partner very much
playing second fiddle). We were conscious that a score of 66 or better
was imperative so when Keith muffed the first hole with a scruffy bogey it was
important I stepped up to the plate with a solid par 4, this I did. We grubbed
along for the next three holes without any fireworks until I took charge with a
spectacular tap-in birdie on the 5th while Keith continued to
contemplate his naval, and I narrowly missed a birdie on the following hole
too. I don’t want to describe the entire round, there’s nothing more boring than
a golfer detailing his performance, but suffice to say I took responsibility
for our team’s score while Keith weighed in only sporadically. He nudged in a
birdie putt on 10 but that apart wasn’t at the races. I’m sad to say the
atmosphere was once again pretty poor between us, indeed we almost came to
blows on the 16th following an incident typifying his selfish attitude.
The 16th is a par five which I made mincemeat out
of with a booming drive and medium iron to eight feet while Keith scrambled his
way to the green in three shots. Miraculously however, Keith holed his birdie
putt leaving me with a free hit at an eagle. Most partners would encourage and
cajole their teammate, help them line the putt up and offer words of support.
Not Keith. Instead, he mumbled something unrepeatable, trod on my line and
returned his putter to his golf bag with enough noise to drown out a helicopter,
just as I began my backswing. This distraction was sufficient to put me off
my stroke and miss the eagle attempt, Keith providing a soundtrack of bellowed
laughter as my putt missed to the right. What a waster. I was strongly tempted
to offer him out there and then but thought better of it, Donald and Derek didn’t
need to see blood on the dancefloor, but if he does it again I’ll break his
bleedin’ nose.
The round ended with a par, naturally mine, which
achieved our targeted total of 66. There are three rounds to go and, provided
we don’t knock each other’s blocks off, we hope to qualify. The good news for
Messrs Gordon & Freeland is that their 18 holes with Keith ended right
there, the bad news for them is that we’re scheduled to accompany them again
next weekend.
In closing I’ll leave you with a pleasant photograph of
Donald and Derek playing from the 7th tee. People sometimes ask me
why I moved back to Aberdeenshire from Birmingham, well it’s because of views
such as this (the backdrop not their backsides). I’ve also included a photo of
the 5th hole which I expertly birdied and next week I hope to have a
photograph of Keith stood in the dock of Aberdeen Sheriff Court. The local
constabulary have charged him for wasting police time with his spurious
accusation that I published libellous content on this site. In your face
Douglas, you’re going down son.
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