It’s a funny old game
To outsiders, golf can seem like an overly serious sport with complicated rules and an involved etiquette, played in an arena where the silence wavers between respectful and deafening. As golfers, we know that although there is some truth in these views, rules and etiquette are common sense and good manners and the silence rarely lasts for more than a few seconds – golf is very sociable with a lot of room for laughs.
Some of my most vivid memories from 30 years-plus playing the game centre around amusing on-course occurrences. My favourite came on May 8, 2004 on the par-3 7th tee at the stunning Southerndown GC in Wales. It was the penultimate round of my annual golf tour, a trip in which a lot of money can be won and lost in ‘bits’, including well-known ones like birdies, eagles and sandies and lesser-known ones including ferrets, sheepie pars and ‘special bits’.
The 7th is a majestic par 3 that plays sharply downhill, so in theory, its 219 yards are not as daunting as they seem. However, on this day we were playing into a five-club wind. Never mind nearest the pin, nearest the green would be an achievement. Three of us had played semi-respectable shots ending up near enough the putting surface, then up stepped Benj, my oldest friend and a man with the fastest swing in world golf.
Anybody who plays seaside golf will tell you, “swing it easy, when it’s breezy”. Benjy chose not to adhere to this advice and instead swung even harder than usual. The result was that the club, travelling in excess of 130mph, only made the slightest connection with his ball, which veered off, just missing his left ankle, and came to rest some 20 yards away beside a bin. There were about two seconds of disbelief, followed by an awful lot of laughter as we all contemplated Benjy’s next shot. As we walked towards the bin, tears rolling down our cheeks, one of group uttered the immortal line, “Well, at least you should win the bit for nearest the bin!” Cue more mirth.
This is, of course, a roundabout way of me demonstrating there’s much humour to be found in the game. I’ve always wanted to publish a regular funny feature in Golf Monthly, and after 16 years of searching, I think I’ve found a writer who is going to make you chuckle with his wry observations: Richard Russell. The name may ring a bell; he wrote the amusing My Baby Got The Yips, a story of his own trials and tribulations as a club golfer. Richard’s first feature on the unwritten rules of golf had me chortling away. I hope you’ll enjoy the piece and those that will follow in future issues.