August 18th 2019
Today I genuinely think I made more three putts than two putts. I’m not sure what it was, but I couldn’t sink a putt to save my life today. We played The Bristol Golf Course in, wait for it, Bristol, and although the course tries to be really posh — and to be fair, it could be — the greens were poorly maintained, and that took a lot away from the poshness.
So yeah, I’m blaming the groundsman for my inability to read a putt. The grass on the green was long, which made them slow, which meant I was leaving every putt short, until I started to adjust my power for the length of the grass by giving each putt a proper whack, which meant I went long on every putt instead of short. So what I needed to do was putt the ball somewhere between too long and too short and make it go in the hole, but if golf was that simple then I wouldn’t have a day job. Well, I would, but my day job would be playing golf. The dream.
I can usually pretty consistently two putt from anywhere on the green, it’s one of the assets of my game. I’ll rarely three putt in a round at all, but today I probably had 9. Also, I was super hungover and I lost all of my decent golf balls by shanking them into the woods, and so I was putting with older, unfamiliar balls. And although it may not seem like the ball would make a load of difference, golf is all about consistency and if you learn how hard you’re supposed to hit one ball for it to go where you want, changing the ball can really throw you off.
Basically, this entire thing has been a long-winded way of saying that I lost. But I didn’t only lose because of my putting, the poor putting was just the most noteworthy aspect of my loss, because usually it’s good, but today it was bad.
Until tomorrow, the aforementioned shanking into the woods also didn’t help.