112 - No Wet, Wet, Wet...

Well the weather is definitely turning now; it is noticeably colder and wetter than it was just a few weeks earlier. With this in mind I went through my old golf bag to check the condition of the gear I have to see if it is still up to the job. It didn’t take long to realise that some of my kit is not only unfit to use but would be rejected by Oxfam.

The main culprit is my bargain basement Dunlop rain suit which I picked up last year as a quick solution to the problem of the great British weather. In Italy they have a saying; ‘temporary solutions become permanent quickly’ and this is definitely the case when it comes to the shoddy little shell suit I bought from Sports Soccer last year.

On paper (and in the shop) the Dunlop suit ticked a lot of boxes. It was waterproof, it was black, it was lightweight, they had it in my size and, most of all, it was cheap. Buying it was a bit of a no brainer at the time, in hindsight I wish I had used the auld grey matter just a little bit more.

The main problem with the Dunlop rain suit I bought is that it isn’t waterproof. Ok, so it isn’t a top end Gore-Tex garment designed to repel a tsunami, but this thing isn’t even shower proof.

In fact if it is worn in any weather you get wet as it doesn’t stop the rain from getting in or allow the moisture from your body to get out. The long and short of it is that the suit is close to useless so I decided to by a better one.

The normal online emporiums were bursting at the seams with waterproof jackets, pants and complete suits at vastly reduced prices.

The problem with most of these garments was that they were last season’s stock that they couldn’t sell. Now I’m not so snobby that I won’t buy clothes because it isn’t this year’s designs but I do draw the line when they come in vile pastel colours.

There were endless FootJoy DryJoy jackets that had up to 70% off the RRP; all of them baby blue and some beige/magnolia blend – horrible. I was desperate for a quality suit (or just jacket at a push) but I wasn’t going to settle for something in a colour that could be compared to baby vomit or stomach bile.

I spent a long time searching and was about to give up when I stumbled across an Adidas rain suit (above) on eBay. It was brand new, had a decent ‘Buy It Now’ price, was in my size and, most importantly for me, come in plain old black. It arrived the other day and is absolutely fantastic as it fits like a glove, is actually waterproof, has special breathable material and looks great. Job done.

19 - Golf Trinket...

Yesterday I had a choice. Go shopping with my better half and her mum for food or wander around JJB Sport drooling over golf porn. So I was standing there, surrounded by all manner of putters, wedges, drivers and clubs wondering again if there really is THAT much difference between the different makes and models? I can see that if you are good slight differences might help hone your game but for clowns like me does it matter?

I did finally get to see that Titleist Vokey wedge I was talking about the other week. As I thought, it is stunning (well I think so anyway). If you have seen one you will know that they have what Titleist describe as an ‘oil can finish’ which is a fancy way of saying it is like a bronze colour. As the club is used the coating starts to get worn away and the face starts to rust. This is deliberate as the rust makes the face rougher and helps the ball spin more thus giving more control. Genius. Personally I’m getting one because it looks good.

There were a couple on display in JJB, one that was brand new and one that had been swung a few times. The second one was starting to rust and looked even funkier than the pristine version. They cost £80 though which is a lot for what could end up a fashion accessory so I had to get some sensible advice.

“If you can’t hit a 9 iron properly what is the point in buying a lob wedge?” Richie’s advice wasn’t quite what I wanted to hear. He explained that I should only buy one if it is needed to improve my game and that buying one because it looks good is “fucking stupid”. Pah, what does he know?! In the end he said I could borrow his 60* wedge to see if it made any difference.

Try before you buy sounded tempting but not as tempting as the cheeky little 56* wedge I spotted on the rack. The wedge was made by a company called Knife and was available for a very reasonable £10. Even Richie was happy. Spending a tenner on a club I would discard after two weeks is a lot better than wasting £80 on a ‘golf trinket’. I was sold.

Richie said I should buy one of those golf ball tubes and spend a couple of hours on a field practicing my chipping to see if it was worth splurging on the Titleist. He even said he would give me a load of old golfy's to use and help me learn how to hit the ball properly. I must say that both Richie and Alan have been brilliant with advice and help since I took up this ridiculously difficult sport, I like to think I’m giving something back with the constant mentions in this soon to be award winning blog!!! ;)

I left JJB with a shiny new wedge, a golf ball tube and a new glove (I inherited a couple from Alan with my set but there is nothing like your own, is there?) When we got back to my better half’s mums she had a present for me in the shape of two dozen Dunlop Loco golf balls. Perfect, they went into my tube and I was ready to go. All I need now is for it to stop bastard raining.

13 - The Curse of Lucky (Part 1)...

I was itching to get on the course again to try and put into practice everything I had learned when, erm, practicing. At the driving range I told Alan that myself and Lucky were thinking of playing later on in the week. Alan looked shocked and happy at the same time (shappy? shoppy?) and said he was going to ring me to see if I fancied a round on Friday. It was fate. It was a date!

I saw Lucky in work the next day and told him that Alan was coming with us so he would get more tips and have a bit of a helping hand. The both of us were as excited as those kids who got asked if they wanted to stay over at the Neverland Ranch before it came to light that Michael Jackson was fiddling with them.

As I had cleaned my clubs thoroughly the week before my bats only needed a quick once over before being ready. I on the other hand needed a new top to play in (Alan can’t see me wearing the same top twice in two weeks, what would he think?) so I went to Liverpool 1 for a look around. I inevitably went to Sports Soccer or whatever it is called to see what they had on offer.

After browsing for too long I came out with a snazzy Nike therma-cool thingie top. As expected it was black and it looks dead good. My better half also made me buy this weird Dunlop Golf top that looked like a fat mans cycling shirt. It has a zip where the buttons should be on the front and doesn’t have a collar. I tried it on at home and she liked it a LOT. I’m not sure I’ll wear it on the course but I’m not taking it back!!!

I went around to the Nike store to see what they had in my size. Unfortunately I wouldn’t look good on the first tee wearing a changing room. There wasn’t any golf gear there anyway. They must spend a fortune getting Eldrick to use their stuff yet don’t bother their arse to stock any of his merch in their official store. To quote the Nan off Catherine Tate “what a facking liberty”.

I ironed all my stuff, got my cap and thick socks ready, dug out my waterproofs and went to give my clubs a bit of TLC. As I got my bag I noticed that it was raining quite heavily but was sure it would clear up soon enough so we could play a bit of ‘Army Golf’ (left, right, left, right – thanks Richie!) the next day.

I eventually made my way into work on Friday morning, fighting my way through monsoon-like rain. Optimistically I phone Kirkby golf course to book a tee time. The bloke on the other end of the line told me that “if the rain carries on like this I’ll be fucking home by 12”. Foolishly I asked if that meant we couldn’t play. “It’ll be fucking flooded, so no”. Hmmm, I was starting to detect a bit of negativity in his voice. “Tell you what, phone me at 12. If I answer you can play, if not your fucked.” This bloke really needed to stop swearing, it isn’t big, clever or funny.

With that Lucky bounded into the office beaming like a Cheshire Cat. He then started to tell me how he had spent the majority of the night before getting all his stuff ready. Ironing his new clobber, cleaning his never used clubs, putting his new balls into his new bag and generally obsessing about his stuff. I let him know what Sweary McGeary at Kirkby said and his face dropped.

“Knowing my luck it will piss down all day” he said. “Nah, it’ll clear up soon” I replied. What followed was rain on a biblical scale. The news channels were littered with reporters in brown Berghaus jackets telling tales of the highest rainfall since records began, whole villages were hilariously swept away by flood surges and Kirkby Golf Course turned into Kirkby Boating Lake. The curse of Lucky had struck again!!!

02 - Merch...

In an attempt to rekindle my love for a sport that was clearly devised by a sadist, I immersed myself in the wonderful, wonderful world of merchandise. Before you could say “stop buying shit off the internet” I was buying shit off the internet. Balls, caps, head covers, whips, chains the lot.

The next day I took a wander around Sports Soccer or whatever it is called (that place in the corner of Speke Retail Park, near the Marks & Spencer, not the food Marks & Spencer by Argos but the one that sells all the bras and that…near Borders, well not THAT near but closer than Argos. By Next and Clinton Cards. In the corner, sort of behind the O2 shop…actually no, the O2 shop is further away than Borders isn’t it?)

Anyway, I went there and had a look around at the stuff on offer. As I’m a newcomer to the whole golf world I needed one of anything to be honest. I bought some essentials first including a trolley and some waterproofs. Because I’m not as svelte as I used to be I had to buy an XXL rain suit which was a problem. The jacket fitted well but the kecks were clearly tailored for a Basketball player or one of the Portsmouth team. The bottoms trailed along the floor like Princess Diana’s wedding dress, if her dress was made out of blue shell suit material.

I also bought 15 Dunlop balls with the sole intention of smacking them away as everyone I have spoken too reckons the range balls are utter crap and don’t feel or travel like proper balls. Hopefully it is the range balls fault that all my drives take a right turn after leaving the club face and not the fact that I’m about as much use as tits on a fish when it comes to swinging the wrenches.

After the waterproofs, balls and trolley I had shoes on my mind. A mate in work told me to get white shoes as he said he always feels special when he has to put his white shoes on and that it makes him feel good. I think he is weird but I fancied a pair trabs that looked like bowling shoes, or spats. The Bugsy Malone look is a good look I say.

I settled on a swanky pair of white Adidas shoes. They have some coating on them and are guaranteed to be waterproof for a year. Got a size bigger under advisement of numerous mates and the bloke in the shop then topped the whole thing off with a thick pair of golf socks. They are dead comfy and I look like I know what I’m doing which is important. Alan was clearly impressed with my shoes when he said “They’ll be a cunt to clean”. I’ve done well.