July 20th 2017
Today I played golf until the darkness of night engulfed us. (I don’t know why I went overly poetic there, sorry.) I drove straight from work to the golf course, met my Dad and cousin and we aimed to get as many holes in as we could before it got too dark. In the end, we managed 16 before the lights (from the sun) went out.
On the 15th tee, a par 3, we could see someone on the green. We thought that was odd because there’d been no one in front of us all round. I was wearing sunglasses (prescription) at dusk so I could barely see, but my cousin said ‘is he playing football?’
We whistled and waved until he left the green, and said ‘whoever hits him gets a hole in one’. None of us hit him. None of us even landed on the green.
We got closer and he said ‘are you going to be long?’ or something similar. Cheeky, I thought. He had cones set out on the green, and was sat on the football when we reached him. My dad said ‘what are you doing?’
‘I’ve got a trial with Swindon tomorrow, so I’m just practicing,’ he said.
In a way, I kind of admired his dedication. Almost ten o’clock at night and he’s out running drills over and over again to practice for his big day.
In a different way, I wanted to throw my nine iron at him. Don’t play football on a fucking golf course you bellend. And especially not on the fucking green. I didn’t say that, but I thought it.
No, seriously. I do admire his dedication and commitment. Although, I know for a fact that the entire Swindon squad are currently in Portugal for pre-season training so maybe he was actually just a bellend.
In fact, he was playing football on the green of a golf course…
Until tomorrow, he was definitely just a bellend.