June 30th 2016
Today I played 26 holes of golf with a bunch of retired policemen.
My Grandad is somehow a member of the police society despite never having been a member of the police force. So every few months I get the chance to play golf with a bunch of people who play golf every day. So there’s a noticable gap in quality between them and I.
So whilst they’re creaming it down the fairway, I’m hacking it down the rough somewhere. It doesn’t bother me too much, but it’s obviously quite annoying. I started well, with a few long drives, I just lose my head every time I get near a green, and end up in a bush or a pond.
I think I lost a dozen balls in total. A dozen. That’s two balls lost every three holes. The depressing thing is that that’s not only 12 shots dropped, it’s about £12.
There’s a mental issue, I think. Physically I’ve got a good swing and am capable of playing well. I just lose the bottle when I’m playing when it matters.
We played 8 holes as team, and then 18 individually. I was worse in the latter, maybe because I didn’t want to let my team down, but I didn’t mind letting myself down. I dunno. I wasn’t AWFUL, I hit the ball further than everyone else, it was just a bit… Sporadically positioned, let’s say.
A few times my Grandad had to shout ‘FORE’ as one of my errand drives veered off onto a fairway that wasn’t attached to the whole we were playing.
I don’t know why my head goes whenever there’s some kind of competitive aspect. I just lose focus, which is daft because if anything there’s more to focus on than when I’m just playing for a laugh. It’s annoying, because I know everything that I am supposed to do, and I can do it. I just often don’t. God knows why. And that’s why golf is an awful game. Because it’s either so bad that you never want to play again, or so good that you expect to be able to play like that every time and then get frustrated when you can’t.
Until tomorrow, fore left!