31 Points!!

That's my best stableford score...ever!

I've just got back from our society's monthly roaming game, played at Standish Court near Wigan and I did very well, for me anyway.

It's a nice course, pretty forgiving (hence the score, probably) with lots of testing par 3's (2 of which I parred) and the back 9 especially is in a nice setting.

I'll be going back.


On Sunday my faithful Passepartou will be joining me at Oulton Hall near Leeds for 2 days of awesome golf, food and drink. Report later.

Form is temporary, class is permanent, I am rubbish.

Last week I was meant to be playing at Royal Lytham and St Annes, one of the most prestigious courses on this sceptred isle.

However, therein lies a tale.

Thursday evening I played a nice gentle 9 hole warm-up with two beginner friends of mine. I was awful. Truly, truly awful. I didn’t hit a single fairway, my irons were all over, wedges thinned time and time again. In fact, the only part of the game I was happy with was my putting.
I’m not sure why I was so bad, I’ve been playing OK recently. It might have been the 15 minute shower we had at the start of the round putting me off (I hate rain, you stop thinking about your shots and start thinking about keeping everything dry), or the softness of the course, or I don’t know. All I know is I was terrible.
So, I withdrew from playing at Lytham. My game was so poor I wouldn’t take it on the local pitch and putt, much less an Open Championship course.

However, I am playing a lot in the coming days. Friday I am playing in my work’s society at Standish Court. Sunday and Monday I am playing at Oulton Hall near Leeds with Andy. We will have to see how we go…….

Course review – Aldwark Manor

Aldwark Manor – 5th – 6th of August.

The course:

We arrived a Aldwark Manor on Sunday around lunchtime, ready to play the first of our 2 rounds. A quick trip to the pro shop, drinks purchased etc and we were off.

The course is quite interesting, without being spectacular. Staring with a par 3, it then moves on a long stretch of par 4s before crossing the river for the back section, 5 to 13. Most of the holes have something about them, trees in fairways, driving over the brow of a hill etc, but none of them really struck me as outstanding. The 18th, supposedly the signature hole, was ok, but nothing amazing. 2 tier green, approach over water, weeping willow blocking out part of the green. Pretty, but nothing to write home about.

On the plus side, the greens were immaculate, running fast and true all the way round. The rough was fair but punishing. Going in made for a lot of heavy sighs and fluffed shots. The fairways were in good condition, and I think there were only 2 areas of GUR on the course. The brochure mentioned that the river comes into play on 6 holes, but you would have to be pretty wild with the drive for the river to be a hazard. In fact, i was pretty wild a few times and it still wasn't in play. Saying that, fairways lined with rhododendron bushes always make for an interesting card.

Moments of the rounds:

Andy hit the pin on the 5th during the second round, and then followed by chipping in on the 6th for Birdie. Jammy get.

I hit a 311 yard drive on the 10th on day 2.
311.
Yards that is. 311 of them. I know, it’s a rare skill.


The Hotel:

The hotel room as very nice, twin, with a view over the approach to the hotel and fountain (mercifully turned off at night). TV, tea and coffee, nice bathroom with powerful shower etc etc.

There are (at least) 2 bars. After our first round we had a drink outside the Terrace Bar which seemed to be spike-tolerant. Then, before dinner we had a quick livener in the main downstairs bar. Drinks weren’t very cheap, £8 for a pint of lager and a G&T. The restaurant was pleasant and airy and modern. Our meals were good, without being spectacular, or indeed particularly large, but the chocolate marquis we both finished off with was incredible, and that may be the best cappuccino I have ever had.

Breakfast the next morning was a buffet of sausages, bacon eggs etc (although Andy very nearly asked for a confit of sausages on a bed of bacon served with a tomato jus), and was very good. Checkout was as painless as check in, over in about 30 seconds.

There was however a slightly disturbing ‘blocked-drains’ smell, which we though must be caused by some standing water near the swimming pool, beside the 16th tee. This was only detectable outside on the terrace, but it was unpleasant.
Also, the bar staff had to spend 10 minutes looking for a corkscrew. In a bar.

I won’t be going back, but that’s mostly because of all the other venues I still have to try. I thought that Rudding park 10 miles down the road had a much nicer course and a similar standard of hotel.

311 YARD DRIVE!!!

I measured it. 311 yards! I'm practically Tiger Woods. But without the beautiful Swedish wife and multi-million pound fortune. But apart from that......

Hole 10, Aldwark manor.

OK, OK, it was downwind and over the brow of a hill but...

I AM STILL A DRIVING MACHINE!!!1!!!

Andy still beat me.

On clearing out the bag...

In preparation for a golf trip to Aldwark manor I spent part of the afternoon clearing out the car boot and the golf bag. During this I learned.....

- Jesus Christ! I buy a lot of pencils. 8 found in the main bag today.

- You wouldn't have to watch me play to see how bad I am, simply count the number of balls I take out with me for a round. 24.

- I seem to have 4 towels, but about 20 dirty balls. Why is that?

- I am personally responsible for the entire production for at least 1 tee manufacturing plant somewhere in China. At least 100 castle tees, which I don't even bloody use anymore! Plus about 50 wooden tees, which I use 'cause they make me feel like a pro.

- Turns out I didn't lose my G-Shock watch in Scotland.

- I seem to have some sort of 'litter-tourettes'. Whenever I finish with something (bottle of lucozade, packet of fags, rescue club etc) I just chuck it in the boot. 4 clubs which I haven't even taken out with me for months in there.

- The guys at Soapy Joe's T*t W*nk and Car Wash will be earning their money tomorrow.

- The Ram QUB3 headcover is still the single ugliest thing I have ever seen.

Golf safety.

When playing golf with colleagues it is best not to stand forward of them any time they are playing a shot. I don’t mean 'not right in front', but not even slightly in front. That way you don’t give them the opportunity to laugh at your expression as their sliced ball passes about 6 inches in front of your shins, or their hook sails about 6 inches over your head.

I swear Dave and Eve were trying to kill me last night. I think the plan was to bump me off and have it away with my shiny new stand-bag.

Yes, I am carrying again. Or rather, carrying for the first time. In the past I have always used pull-trolleys either with a stand bag on, or a trolley bag. In Feb I bought a Motocaddy S1 electric trolley, which is great and makes the actual moving around the course very easy.

However, last week, we were scheduled to play at Duxbury, and they had a trolley ban on. Now, I no longer had a stand bag, or indeed any bag with straps, having donated my very first bag to Matt and Donna when they took it up. Soooo, to cut a long story short (too late, I know), I ended up buying a new stand bag and carrying it round.

This is a major departure for me. Avoidance of physical labour is second nature to me now. But, I found I quite enjoyed it. I felt like I’d had a bit more exercise and vowed to do it more often. So, I have made myself a promise, I will carry my bag for every 9 hole session we go for. I will carry for some 18 hole sessions, especially if it’s fairly flat. If it’s hilly (You know who you are, Scottish courses) I will at least be pulling a trolley.

We’ll see how it goes.

Garstang, 01/08/07.

I am a driving MACHINE!!1!!!



Sadly, I am a putting spaz.

Hit a few really nice drives tonight, and even a couple of decent iron shots, but I seem to be scared of puts... Hmmmm, something else to work on.

Heron's Reach.

Just got back from playing Heron's Reach in Blackpool. 18 hole, sort of links type course. Pretty good, bit too much water for my liking, which I found, regularly.

Driving was good though, the new Ram Qub3 is working well. Square drivers are the new black.

And, Scary is also a golf addict..... And he mentioned my blog, so in the age old (about 3 years) tradition, I mention his.

(Disclaimer: He is mad, and obsessed with poo, and Sarah Beeny)

Torrancisms.

Sam Torrance is one of the best-known golfers of recent years. He is also one of the most sarcastic bastards ever to swing a club:

"Hmmm. I think you ought to have 2 inches taken off your clubs."
"Really?"
"Yes. They'll fit in the bin much easier."

"Watching you play, I think you ought to not play golf for a couple of
weeks. Then give it up all together."

(amateur hits a terrible slice)
"Damn!"
"You've got some shit on the end of your club", (opponent lifts up
driver to look at the bottom), "other end".



Youngsters

I was watching the US Women's Open the other week and something struck me:

* That 12 year old Alexis Thompson is better now than I will ever be

(sigh) and still we play on....

One White Hand, the early years…..

“Alan’s lent me his golf clubs. Do you fancy a go on the driving range at lunctime?”

Seemingly innocuous words, but they were the real beginning. Ashle (pronounced ‘Ashley’ by his wife, ‘Ashull’ by anyone taking the piss out of him), drove us there. We paid out £2.50 and filled baskets with balls and walked out.
There followed about 10 minutes of ‘Urgh!’ and ‘nearly’ and then, during a quiet spell, a perfect ‘click’ followed by a ‘Jesus!’ and I’d hit my first good shot. I was instantly hooked and many say I’m still trying to replicate that moment. Bastards.

Incidentally, a few weeks later I went to the range on my own, put my money in but forgot to put a basket under the chute. Cue one gormless looking bloke with white balls scattering all over the floor, scrabbling round trying to scoop them all into a basket.

Then, one week later, I went back with Ashle. I was telling him this story as I started to count my cash out and feed it into the machine. As I was popping the last 50p in I finished with “That’s the sort of thing you only do once”. His knowing, barely contained grin suddenly vanished and was replaced with full-on braying laughter. I thought “well, it was funny, but not that funny” and then rolled my eyes into my head as the first of 100 golf balls sprayed out of the machine and between my legs.
He was still laughing so hard, even when I’d scooped them all into a basket that I had to help him up from the floor, by his knackers.

Anyway, our first few games of golf were at little nine-holers around Chorley. Highfield, Yarrow Valley, places where we wouldn’t stand out too much if we were hacking very badly, and we were.
We then progressed to our first real 18 holes of golf, Duxbury Municipal Golf Course, Chorley. Wonderful day, great weather, good company, awful golf (this will be a recurring theme).

Then, a bombshell.

I buy a lot of ‘stuff’ from a huge IT company. This company have a number of sponsorship deals, corporate days etc, all over Europe. I worked with a Client Services Manager called Neil. Our conversation one morning…..

Neil: “I’ve heard you’ve started playing golf Mark. I’ll try to get you on the CSC corporate day next month if you fancy.”

Me: “Yeah alright, where’s that then?”

Neil: “Wentworth”

Yes, my second full 18 holes of golf was played out (sort of) on the West course at Wentworth.
On a blazing day we set off, started by a proper starter, in front of the imposing white gothic clubhouse, and I only had to clear about 150 yards to reach the fairway. Gulp.
Thankfully, it was fairly straight and long, for once. No pressure or anything.

Anyway, I had a great time, played awfully, managed to hit our playing partner’s buggy not once, but twice, and generally hacked my way around one of the country's most prestigious courses.
Afterwards in the bar, knowing full well I would never be invited back I confessed it was only the second time I had been round a full 18 holes. The expressions around the table were priceless.

The absolute best memory isn't actually of the course. 3 months later we were watching the World Matchplay Championship. Paul MacGinley is teeing off on the 10th, uphill, par 3. He strikes the ball, up, up, up. Down, about 8 yards short of the green.

Me: “Yeah, I did that too”.

4-iron in the soul….

In the 90’s Lawrence Donegan became a caddy. Well, he actually became a bag-carrier. There’s a difference.

Lawrence is a bit of a jack of all trades. Ex number 1 singing pop star, journo, layabout and golf hacker, he decided he ought to become a top sportsman. He quickly figured it wasn’t going to be actually ‘playing’ golf, but it might be walking about with a bag over his shoulder.

The book is a genuinely funny look at the world of caddies, golfers, officials and the bizarre world of professional golfing events.

Random quote:

“I was later told that if a bomb had gone off by the coke machine it would have killed six ministers, three generals, the heir to the throne and every top-class hooker in North Africa”.

Imagine a place beyond sight and sound, beyond reason….. you are entering, the ‘Walk in’ zone.

Walking in, or walking off, the same thing really. It’s when you are so completely hacked off with your game you walk in. I’ve only done it once, but I came very close on Saturday.

Invited to play by a guy I used to work with, turned up, and set off out with our group of 3. The weather was incredible, just so hot you could hardly breath, much less play. After about 12 holes I pretty much stopped caring and would have killed, or at least maimed, for a cold shower. I didn’t walk off, but I pretty much walked the last 3 holes.

“Hey, we can’t find your ball on this short par 3. Want to go back and hit another? There’s nobody on the tee.”

“No, can’t be arsed, put me down for a blob, and the reason there’s nobody on the tee is that is it about 1 million bloody degrees out here!”

Full-on sense of humour failure.

The only time I have walked off was about a month ago at Southport. Society game. Last group, 3 hours for the first 9 holes. Unbe-friggin-lievable. 3 hours! Playing stableford! Watching guys take 7 shots to reach a par 4 green and then all stand about watching each other putt out for no score while people back up on the tee behind them.

I may be shit but even I know that point of stableford is to keep things moving.

OK, so now I’m fuming again. Never mind, playing with them again next Friday, we’ll see how it goes then. It’s on one of my favourite courses too so I might be a bit calmer. We’ll see.

My favourite ever walk-in? Richard Russell, first tee, Sunningdale. Hit one drive, it was rubbish, he walked in.

From Richard’s superb book “My baby got the yips”, available from Amazon, here.

It really is an excellent book in every regard, laugh out loud moments for any golfer, plus the secret of golf. Well, the 2 secrets of golf. OK, actually the three secrets of golf……

How it all began....

I first played golf just over 2 years ago, at the age of 32. I’d watched golf for ages on TV, but none of my friends or colleagues played. Or at least, that was what I thought.

It’s funny, as soon as you mention that you have started playing, they creep out of the woodwork… “Hello, Emma tells me you’ve started playing golf. Well, if you ever fancy a game (at my £1000 a year club) just give me a shout”.

Repeat this about 20 times.

As a result, without ever having been a member anywhere I’ve been able to play some very good courses, very very badly.

You see, I’m rubbish. I mean really, really rubbish. I’ve never broken 100, only broken 50 for 9 once. I regularly take huge divots while moving the ball about 50 yards forwards and my ‘fore’ response is almost instinctive, out of my mouth as I hit the ball sometimes.

But, sometimes, just sometimes, it comes together for a hole or two. Decent drive, decent wedge, 20-foot putt with a 3 foot borrow and “Yes!”, I’m the best golfer in the world, for about 10 seconds.

17 terrible holes, ready to pack it all in forever, birdie the 18^th, and all is right with the world again and you start having delusions of mediocrity. Thoughts of trophies start to drift in and out of your mind, men holding very big cheques shaking your hand while people applaud……..

“What did you do?”

“Hundred and eighteen”.

Reality’s a bitch.