Todays Lesson

The next lesson in our continuing series "How to clutch defeat from the jaws of victory" comes fresh from the monthly medal this morning. It's a tale of inspirational play, dogged determination, terrible tee shots and bunker catastrophe.

In my defence I was only a reserve for the morning drawn part of the competition and haven't actually been out and hit a ball since the Club Championship fiasco last Saturday so to say I came in unprepared would be an understatement. An hour on the practice ground this morning hadn't unlocked an magic key to a great swing. Determined to take it as it came and not worry about a score I was therefore stunned when the opening drive found its target 229 yards away and I made a solid par start. Instantly three shots better off than last week. Par at the 2nd was followed by an agonising lip out for par at the third with the ball doing a full lap of the hole before being spat out the front and sitting there mocking me. I had a horrid three putt at the 4th but was still one under my handicap and all seemed surprisingly good.

The ball striking on these opening holes hadn't been great and I was having trouble getting it in the air but I was scoring so I guess that is all that mattered. On the 5th I hit two good shots and stood over my approach with 98 to the green and hit a low thinned wedge into the long rough and cunningly placed a bunker between myself and the flag and to a green that sloped away. It was more in hope than conviction that I hit my 58 degree wedge but the ball popped out landed softly and stopped less than a foot away for a simple par. I continued to make solid progress until the 8th. This hole was one of many par three disasters last week. I hit another bad tee shot into a right hand bunker and the ball was at the back on a downhill lie with back edge interfering. I actually played a great shot and it was a fraction too soft and caught the top of bunker and fell back in. To my credit I put the next to four feet and holed out.

By the time I reached half-time I had gone out in one under my handicap. Happy days. Things were even rosier chez Homer after a great par at the 12th where I hit a perfect hybrid into the green. The 20 foot downhill, right to left putt looked in until six inches from the hole where it veered away. I then hit the shot of the day off the tee at the par 3 thirteenth to about eight feet and converted the putt for birdie. I then chipped and putted for par and with four holes left I was in position A1.

The lesson today is to keep your mouth shut and not to count any chickens. I hooked my drive at the par 5 fifteenth but had plenty of room and no pressure. One of the group playing the fourteenth where I was standing made some passing comment and I told him I was actually doing ok. Kiss of death. I topped the second and my approach to the green found a bunker. I took two to get out and walked off with a double bogey.

Last year I played two medal competitions (one midweek and one the following Sunday). In both I had stood on the 16th tee six over par gross and promptly finished 6, 6, 6 (double bogey, treble, single). Even with my mini disaster I was still only eight over and looking for a handicap cut. Call it pressure, or a mental aberration but I promptly hit my tee shot out of bounds left. The next tee shot got the full treatment and went sailing miles down the fairway. I made a par with the second ball but it cost me another double. Still not to worry I could afford to take a bogey at the last two holes and still play to my handicap.

If you are easily frightened please stop reading now. It is not pretty. I hit a stonking bad shot way right at the 17th. It was so bad it had cleared all the rubbish and was sitting in the open. I had 76 yards to the flag. My 52 degree wedge would have been too much so I opted for the 58. Big mistake as it found the bunker. I underhit the first shot and the ball plopped forward a few inches and was still in the trap. I did the same again, and again. It was still in the bloody sand and had now landed in one of my footprints. Two more attempts and I just got it out and then chipped on. Left with a fifteen foot putt I was facing double figures. The shame. Somehow and almost inevitable I holed the putt for a 9!!!!!!!! On a bloody par 3. I said last week I hated them and I still do.

I had lost the plot by the time I played 18 and the double bogey seemed a just way to finish. When the maths were done I had shot nett 76 (+6) and had dropped twelve shots to par on the last four holes. If I'd even played each of them in one over I'd have been writing about a sub-par round, prospective top three finish and a handicap cut. As always in this journey I'm not.

I wrote a short while ago about how my playing partners always seem inspired with me marking their card. Today I played with one of the club's characters Mick Mills who was actually conservatively dressed (he of the very loud shirts and trousers) and a wily old golfer Jim Rackley. I'd never had the pleasure before but he was Mr Consistancy and had he chipped a bit better would have had a fantastic round. As it was Mick shot a nett 68 (-2) and Jim finished level par. It would seem that Mick will have a shout in his division and my luck continues to rub off.

If only I could keep some of it for myself.

Total number of lost balls in 2010 = 54