The love of a good woman

Peeps.

I think I might have peaked. My previous post described my impending trip to the Spanish coast although I neglected to mention I would be playing golf with the old man (he's the one on the right, looks a bit like Iggy Pop):I hired Kate as my caddie, loaded her with a video camera and prepared myself for my first round in about 4 years against the old enemy, I had to win. I didn't.

Golf is a funny game, the golf club is the only place in the world where you're expected to dress like a prick and frowned upon when you don't. Sexism is not only perfectly acceptable on the golf course, it is positively encouraged. Golf is also one if the most technically difficult games for the amateur to master, the potential for disaster is massive each time one steps up to stike that 1" diamter ball:

• Airshot. You've had your practice swing, you step up to the ball, you feel good, everyone is watching, you start your swing. Club comes down, it makes a nice swoosh noise, something is wrong...closer examination reveals that you've managed to complete your swing without making contact with the tiny white thing. Bollox.
• Earth shot. The opposite of airshot where the swing is not completed because the club has struck the ground before the ball and not come out. You've taken a huge chunk of earth out of the impeccably manicured fairway.
• Slice/Hook. You've made contact with the ball, phew! You look up to admire your work only to see the ball sailing off to the left/right. This shot is normally accompanied by a lost ball, bunker, water hazard or tree shot.

You get the idea.

So there I am on the first tee with me old man and Clive and Sue. That's another thing golf can spring on you, the opportunity to meet new 'friends' at a minutes' notice and being forced to play your round under their scrutiny. All very awkward, especially when you're under an assumed identity (Tony 'the tooth' Cooper - thanks for lending your name and reputation by the way): a golfer must prove his worth by way of a 'handicap certificate' which shows that you're a 'real' golfer and not the inadequate charlatan you feel. This is how I was dressed, fairly cool under the circumstances, my Father demonstrates how I should have been dressed:


In a remarkable stroke of fortune, I held my own. I only lost one ball, hit the ball well for the most part and by the time we had swapped Clive and Sue for the German couple (not sure if they were sexual partners, but lets imagine they were) Fred and Hank (no pictures so hope this will give you an idea) I was in a confident mood. And it is now I am appraoching my point, thanks for sticking with me. A link will follow which will visually describe probably my greatest moment on this planet. However, in order for you to appreciate the moment as it was intended to be seen, it is neccessary to include a short transcript of the conversation which preceded:

Hank (with reference to the flag - adopt a stereotypical German accent now): "Young man, would you like me to leave the flag in the hole?"

Young man (in his best Liam Gallagher impression): "Nah mate, take it out. This is going in"

All: Out loud laughing at the hilarity of the situation and the deluded nature of what this young man has just suggested.

Please now click here, sit back and enjoy. This is one for all the son's playing their dad's at anything, anywhere in the world today. You'll need quicktime.

What a moment! But what if that's it? What if I used up all of my good luck tokens on that one put? What if that was the culmination of my development on this earth and I'm now beginning a slow decline, never again to reach the dizzying heights of that afternoon?

Probably I'm just panicking as another year flys by. But if that WAS my moment, if that WAS my peak, at least I got it on film - thanks Kate x.