AS THIS is my first 'golf' column of the year, I thought I'd treat you to some brief highlights of how 2015 has been going for me.

I'll begin in the depths of winter, mainly because while everyone else was complaining about the cold and wet, I was in top form.

You'll be pleased to hear that it didn't last and I've rediscovered how to play the game in a terrible fashion, just in time for the summer, but that's another story.

For Christmas, my lovely wife kindly got me a new driver. For the first time in my life, I tested a club before getting it bought for me, though it was a slightly chastening process.

Having decided that Benross suited our budget, I was fitted for a new driver and was quickly told that despite being a fit 32-year-old, I'd be best off with a14-degree model aimed at slow swingers.

I swallowed my pride - and was soon grateful that my 10.5-degree driver had been consigned to the shed.

I didn't even get the chance to take my new 'dog' down to the range before I was thrown into some early-year competition against my brother-in-law, Steve.

This year, for the second time, we have decided to run a year-long competition to see who can come out on top.

There's no money or anything at stake. Just pride. A massive dose of male pride.

I kept the driver in the bag for my first hole of 2015, but when taking an iron off the tee resulted in a double-bogey six, I decided to throw caution to the wind.

My sparkly new driver, which had never hit a ball before, came out on the second tee - and promptly bludgeoned one straight down the middle, a considerable distance further than my previous club would have done.

From that point onwards, I never looked back, reaching the turn in 44 and keeping my cool on the back nine to card an incredible 90, admittedly with the aid of a couple of temporary greens.

Steve also played pretty well but could only muster 93, so I got the year off to a winning start. Maybe I should have given up at that point.