131 - Sick Of Being Sick...

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! I’m sick of being sick of being shit at golf so I’ve decided to do something radical about it; I’m getting lessons...well actually I’m not, but I am really. I realise that I’m making as much sense as the instruction manual for a Chinese video recorder so I better explain.

A while back I was fortunate enough to get a free lesson from the Pro at Widnes Golf Club and my game improved immeasurably. I’m certain that with a few more lessons I would have been well on the way to my realistic target of playing off 18 but it never materialised and I soon slipped back into the bad habits which have left me on the verge of throwing my clubs into the canal.

I got in contact with the friend who hooked me up with the free lesson to see what the going rate was these days for expert tuition from a Pro; I was told to save my money as he could go through the basics with me for free – result. Terry is a decent player so I’m confident he will be able to help me out.

I’ve been told to bring a 3 wood, 7 iron, 9 iron and wedge and he will go through the routine with them all on the field at the back of his house. I might bring my 5 iron too so I have the full game set (how often do you use a 3 or 4 iron on the course?) Terry said he has a load of auld balls for me to slice across the field too so that is one less thing to worry about.

He also asked me to bring my putter too as we are going to his course to knock a few in on the practice green. I’m looking forward to this part as I’ve never really practiced my putting, I just turn up at the course and three putt my way around the 18 greens like a true clown. I want to see what the Bettinardi can do.

I’m not setting my sights too high but I’m hoping on getting the basics right so I have something to work on over the summer. Once I’m more confident about my stance, grip, alignment and swing I’ll go out with better players but at the moment I’m reluctant to make a fool of myself in front of them although I know they would be supportive and helpful.

It is a strange ‘Catch 22’. I need more practice with help from good players but I won’t go out with them as I’m not good enough. I should bite the bullet, swallow my pride and slice my way around Widnes Golf Club with Terry, Allerton Golf Course with Richie and West Derby Golf Club with Alan, who knows, I might actually get a bit better.

128 - Big Fake Grin...

I had the pleasure of visiting West Derby Golf Club today and I was quite impressed. My mate Alan is a member and kindly offered to take me around for a sneaky 18. As my game is all over the place I decided to caddy for him as he blasted his way around the pretty parkland course on the outskirts of Liverpool.

Having only ever played on municipals I saw the difference immediately. From tee to green the course was immaculate, totally devoid of the usual treats found on council run tracks – litter, unrepaired fairways, pockmarked greens and the occasional burnt out car in the rough (I think it is treated as an immovable obstruction in the R&A rulebook incidentally with the appropriate relief given).

I can see why people are drawn to private courses but they fill me with dread. I’m not sure I could be arsed with all the rules, the enforced etiquette and the general ‘know your place’ attitude from the old guard. I get that the rules are there for the good of everyone and in theory I support them but in practice I think I would struggle.

I found myself getting annoyed by the big ‘No Mobile Phones’ sign on the terrace outside the clubhouse even though I could understand that if you were on the green (a few feet away) the sound of some tool yapping away while you are trying to make a birdie would be off putting.

I understand the rule, agree with it but don’t like it being shoved down my throat (insert your own Carry On/Benny Hill gag here). It is as if we cannot be trusted to think for ourselves, or is it something more sinister?

Alan explained that he had to have an interview before he could join where he had to agree to attend a number of functions throughout the year and promise to be an all round good egg – seems like too much hard work to me although Alan assured me that the chances of him attending the Captain’s Black Tie Ball are slim...

And that is the paradox for me; I love the perfectly manicured greens, the spotless changing rooms and the comfy bar showing the football but the thought of grovelling to a bunch of old farts and promising to be a good boy grates to the point of anger. The alternative is surely worse though? Poorly maintained municipals filled with scalls in England shirts and Reebok Classics? Nah.

Maybe Alan is right, maybe I need to play the game with the establishment a little in order to play the game of golf a lot. No queues on the tee, polite and courteous players, friendly staff – sounds very tempting, all I need now is £1,000 I suppose oh and to practice my fake grin of course.