Rob and I went back to the scene of our crimes against golf, the Forcett Lakes course. Last time the "lakes" were low and swampy - yesterday everything was looking more established, and the lakes were genuinely lakesome.
Each time I play golf I try, just once, to tee off with a wood. And as I retrieve the ball from up a tree, or the carpark, or pull out a new ball, I reflect that, no - I still can't do that. I teed off at the first (long straight par 4, small lake right in front of the tee) with the 1 wood, and blasted the ball at worm height straight into the lake. Considered throwing the clubs in after it but pulled myself together eventually. On the other hand Rob successfully teed off with a wood for the first, second and third times in his life.
The club now has a Snack Wagon - the management jump in a little unit and motor out to wherever hungry or thirsty players might be. They brought us chocolate bars out on the 5th fairway. Bloke said he's planning to rename it the Tucker Truck.
We both played some nice shots on the way round - just often enough to leave us keen to do it again this summer. But generally, and I have to be honest, we were rubbish. Utterly disgraceful. I just can't keep my head down, and I think my wrists are a little floppy. But I did just edge out Rob by 2 shots, so that was something.
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