AS YOU may have read last week, my annual battle with my brother-in-law got off to the perfect start from my point of view.

A new driver enabled me to take a 1-0 lead at the end of our first round of the year - and rather amazingly, even better was to follow.

My fine form from the first round of the year continued into the second and I reached the turn in 47, taking my run of holes without a treble birdie or worse to an amazing 27.

It was Steve, my brother-in-law, who played the shot of the front nine though. Having duffed a chip, he sent his wedge spinning into the air - and it amazingly landed perfectly in his bag some 10 yards away.

Unfortunately for him, this piece of skill didn't save him any shots and he was four behind after nine holes.

I did my best to let him back in, hacking around horribly for most of the back nine on my way to a total of 101, but he was unable to take advantage and I won by two shots.

However, if club throwing was a sport, Steve may well be a world champion. After another poor shot, he followed up his achievement on the front nine by picking out a bin with his unfortunate wedge. It made a great noise.

To give Steve some rather begrudging credit, he doesn't let defeat put him off and we were soon out for our third meeting of the year.

I made a poor start, trailing by five shots after just five holes and losing by three when we reached the turn.

The deficit was back out to five after 11 holes, but consecutive pars, combined with something of a meltdown, reduced Steve's advantage to a single shot with five to play.

I pressed home my advantage, winning the next four holes by one stroke to give myself a three-shot lead going down the last.

That sounds comfortable, but it's far from that in our world of duffs, pulls and slices, and things were looking up for Steve when I put my tee shot into the trees.

Fortunately, I was able to play a miraculous recovery shot, finding the green and walking off with a par for a round of 95 and a 3-0 lead in the series.