The Day The Balloon Burst

Well today was definitely the day my golfing balloon went pop. After the dramatic highs of Tuesday and the mediocre rubbish of the social game yesterday today was the monthly medal. I couldn't have asked for a better pairing than Mark Timms, an ex Royal Ascot captain, decent golfer with a cutting sense of humour and Mick Mills, a man of a certain sartorial elegance, nutty as a box of frogs and on his day a very, very good golfer.

Things got off to a bad start with a duffed chip on the first leading to a double bogey five. I got through the next couple of holes without incident and then there was a nice three putt in on the 4th to drop another shot. I even managed a sand save on the next getting up and down from the left hand bunker after pulling a nine iron from 118 yards. After that, I'm afraid the round, or at least the front nine hit a brick wall with maximum force.

I snap hooked my tee shot on the 6th which is a real nemesis hole anyway. I hate par 3's! It would have been out of bounds but we didn't find it anyway. I had already hit a provisional which was flirting with the out of bounds further up the hole and played a second provisional, or potentially five off the tee which fortunately had found the target. The second ball was playable and I chipped on and two putted for an ugly triple bogey six.

My sheer delight of par 3's were further strengthened on the tiny par 3 eighth hole. I catalogued this hole in my "Hackers Guide" the other day (check it out to see what I'm talking about) but I've found a fresh way of making a mockery of playing it. Take one thinned tee shot and leave it twenty yards short of the green. Add a duff chip into a bunker. Sprinkle with a double hit out of the sand (including penalty shot). Mix with a chip on and finish with a holed putt to create the perfect triple bogey six. Deep joy.

The ninth was to prove no respite. I hit a poor drive into the rough down the right and faced a tricky shot to clear the ditch about one hundred yards away. With the ground sloping down towards the hazard laying up short from the lie I had wasn't a given and so I decided a prudent eight iron would be sufficient to carry the ditch and get the ball in play without being overly optimistic. Wrong. I pushed it right. The good news was it cleared the ditch. The bad news was it was now out of bounds. I played another which got over the hazard. I pitched on and made a back to back triple bogey.

 I was out in a nice round 50 and had used all my handicap allowance and some for the next round too. If I was having my issues, then poor old Mick was having an even tougher time and limped out several shots higher than my effort. On the plus side Mark had quietly been going about his business and was scoring quite nicely. Mind you he was having plenty of time to rest between shots while Mick and I chopped our way along.

My golfing balloon being well and truly burst

Trying to be a glass half full type of guy, the back nine started much better and included a par at the toughest hole on the course, the par four twelfth and at the long 186 yard par 3 thirteenth. The par three in particular was playing much tougher than its yardage into the wind and so I was pleased with my tee shot to the front of the green. And then the back nine hit the skids in a similar way to the front nine.

I hit a poor drive down the 14th. In truth I was trying to give it the full kitchen sink and the swing was a blur of moving body parts held together in a barely recognisable guise of a golf swing. It happened to find a great lie in the rough on the right and I hit a pure recovery just short of the green. A simple chip and two putts and we can get away with a five (nett par). Wrong. Another duffed chip. I never felt comfortable over the ball and I knew it wasn't going to be a good shot. However there was no excuse for three putting from twelve feet once I'd chipped on.

I managed a rare moment of dignity with a birdie four at the par five 15th but followed that up with a self-destructing tee shot out of bounds on the next for another triple bogey. Even a solid par five at the last finding both fairway and green in regulation couldn't make any inroads into the carnage on my scorecard. In the end I came back in 43 for a grand total of 93, less my 13 handicap for a nett 80 (+10). It doesn't take a handicapping genius to know that has missed the buffer zone and that the 0.1 back on my handicap now takes me to 13.5 or 14 in round numbers.

That is the highest I've been in about three years and bares no resemblance to the progress I feel I've been making. On the plus side, Mark had a sterling back nine too and finished with a very good nett 68. Mr Mills however followed his difficult front nine with a similar performance on the second nine. How can I put this politely? It was a higher nett score than me and not the type of golf I'm use to seeing him play.

At least we managed to have a good laugh on the way round. Well you had to really or else you'd cry. I really enjoyed the company and although there were sightings of a golfer within, there are a lot of swing issues. I think I've been neglecting my long game work to try and get the short game working and that it's a timing and turning issue where I'm swaying and not staying over the ball and compressing down. That was the main focus of the work over the winter and I just think old habits are creeping in.

I'll hit the range tomorrow and start looking at it. I need to get the game working again soon. That personal best of 75 I shot seems a distant memory and I feel a tad embarrassed by hitting the 14 handicap mark again. The whole point of Homer's Odyssey was to chart a triumphant journey towards 10 or even single figures. I should be soaring with eagles and yet I'm floundering with turkeys. Much work needed. The fightback starts right here, right now.