The great Golf Debacle

Being not very good at golf, it is with some trepidation that one faces the prospect of a golf afternoon with old colleagues, some of whom can really play and probably with a low handicap number. When I am asked 'what is your handicap' I reply my handicap is that I can't play very well. I can hit the ball straight and true on the driving range for 150 metres, and once (only once) to the 200 mark. That was probably because the ground was cold and the ball kept bouncing and running on after landing at 150. Getting balls out of bunkers and chipping onto the green all works when you are just practicing. Get to the first tee and it all unravels and can end up in tears.


Pieter heads off to the first green, and treats us all to
a golf fashion-statement.



However, some of the said colleagues had never hit a ball before. Can you play golf? No, I've never played before so I can't play golf. Thats alright then. One less chance to be embarrassed. Or not. Some people can do things the first time. My father played the saxophone in the works band. There were too many saxophone players, so they asked him if he could play the violin. "I don't know. I've never tried. Maybe." A positive attitude. A few years ago, while I still worked at Otra, Maarten organised a golf afternoon. Maarten is a long thin person with very long clubs. He winds himself up like a clock spring and then there is a swishing, whirring sound, that soft contact that denotes the perfect strike, and the ball goes up at 45 degrees. And keeps on going. It does not fall, but just hangs in the air getting smaller and smaller. By the time it starts to fall, it is usually out of sight.


Nice follow through, good feet and hip position.
But where's the ball? Ed will be dissappointed when he looks down.



On that first Otra golf afternoon, I had just got the GVB and was full of myself, explaining to the noobies how to hold the club. Mark Adolfs was a keen student. I showed him how to put the ball over the 100 meters mark. Like this?" he said as the ball went straight and true, much further than mine on the driving range. "Was that O.K, or should it be more like this?". Another ball straight and true even further then the first. "Or perhaps thus". Another ball straight and true and about as far as I have ever hit one. "Dont worry Mark. You'll get the hang of it". In the actual round. Mark beat me by about 7 strokes. Mark was now playing only the second 9 holes in his life, but I had had a bit of practise and at least 10 rounds in the years between. Tennis players seem to be able to do anything. Mark and Ed are both good tennis players and like Mark, Ed seemed to have a natural feel for the game. But not for the rules. Putting with a five iron or setting your ball on a tee in the rough for the second shot 'because the grass is a bit long here'.


Somehow we ended up with a group of 3 and another of 5. Maarten's group, behind us at the start, managed to get past somehow and dump people onto ours. It was hard to get this herd moving across the prairies, even with the people behind us bellowing for us to get a move on. Sometimes the ball was putted from just off the green on one side to just off the green on the other side, and then back again to its original position. And then.... Advice was given about the difference between the action of the putter and the driver, and perhaps 10 or 15 is a reasonable score to give up on a hole. I myself started off quite well, with 4's and 5's, and then disaster. They had been mowing the greens and the grass dust had been dumped off the fairway on the edge of the trees. My ball fell into this stuff and sank. I could see it down the long, green tunnel. Play the ball as it lies is the rule. A mighty sweep with the pitching wedge and a green explosion. And nearly broke my hand when the club hit an invisible tree root just in front of the ball. I hacked my way out of this mess for an 8 on a par 3 and my day was ruined. On the next hole, a good approach but my pitch went straight ahead and over the green and far away instead of up in the air and down next to the hole. A bout of temper and a wild whack at the ball and we have another 8 on a par 3. The worst part of the day was on the last hole. My second shot landed 30 cms from the flag. It would be a certain par. The flag was still in the hole because everyone else was off the green or machetting their way out of the jungle. I could not wait to claim my prize and tapped the ball into the hole. Only it didn't go in. Hit the flag pole and rolled out again, it did.


Fashion Correspondent says 'Keep the glove, ditch the jacket'



Despite all the frustrations, a day of fun. Back to the bar and a few beers and a steak. Mark Adolfs beat me again. Again by 7 strokes. Are tennis players any good at snooker? Thanks all. We shall do it again.