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FORE! - Back to reality with a splash
ALL good things must come to an end – and sadly I have to report my rich vein of golfing form seems to have reached its natural conclusion.
After two weeks basking in the glory of my (largely) outstanding round of 89, hopes were high as I ventured out of my house to play again.
But my confidence took a knock almost as soon as I got into my neighbour Derek’s car, as a rumble of thunder was followed by some spots of rain.
The weather deteriorated steadily as we travelled to Camberley Heath, where Derek had wangled us a round. By time we arrived, it was pelting it down.
The wise move would have been to try to reschedule, especially when Derek discovered that he had forgotten his waterproofs and umbrella, drawn into a false sense of security by the dry summer.
However, golfers very rarely take the wise option in such circumstances, and we were no different.
It turned out to be a horrible mistake. The rain persisted and seven at the par-three second, which included three bunker shots, set the scene as I recorded just one par on the front nine, with a nine and two eights further damaging my card.
Things improved slightly on the back nine, bogeys and double-bogeys replacing higher scores, while hitting greens at 15 and 16, even though I three-putted the former, had me thinking all was well.
However, it took a good putt to rescue a double-bogey at 17 after some hacking around and I had a nightmare on 18, where you hit your tee shot over a heather-covered mound. My first drive didn’t even reach the mound, topped into a jungle of bracken, while my second tee shot failed to clear the mound and I ultimately took another nine to card a horrible round of 111.
Form, as they say, is temporary. A lack of class – sadly, that’s permanent.
Things went just as badly for Derek, who also failed to cope with the wet weather. Having toiled away delivering the post in beautiful conditions for the preceding three days, he could not believe his luck as the heavens opened.
He completely lost his cool on the 17th, hurling his driver after a duffed tee-shot and throwing in the very wet towel – just as the sun came out.
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