GOLF IS GOOD:

ANDREW DADDO

HEY fellas, want to improve your golf game? How about getting all touchy feely with your swing and your tempo, getting a feel for your groove?

I think I found the answer, and it was in the most unlikely place … Germany.

Seriously. With 150 other like-minded souls, we boarded a river boat and set sail down the Danube. An odyssey that would take us through Germany and Austria and the Czech Republic, finally rolling off the ship in Hungary. (You didn’t have to eat everything you put on your plate, but then, you didn’t want to be rude, either.)

The Golf Touring Company put the tour together, and as far as we could figure, it’d never been done before. Ship to shore, golf, history, tours, the Sound of Music and even the occasional nudist on banks of the river – it is Europe after all.

And the secret to better golf? Play with the women.

To be sure, I play with my mum from time to time, which is great. But there is the slight need to push the ball out there when we play, just so she remembers to tell my brothers how loooooong I am. That if she were to chat with them after a game, she would slip in something like, ‘your brother Andrew really smashed one down the first the other day. And the third, as it turned out. Belted drives on 4, 5, 6 and 7, too. What a shame we only played nine holes. I bet he would have murdered the back nine, given the chance.’ It’s a kooky fantasy, and sadly, unspoken family rivalries make it go something like that.

But on the cruise, there wasn’t that kind of pressure when I teed it up with three lovely ladies. Joy, Gemma and Annie were all good players. They loved a chat, were supportive of each other, interesting and great to play with, whilst being competitive and sharp on the pace of play.

Unlike me (and lots of men I play with) they didn’t seem terribly interested in how far my ball went. And once that was clear, neither did I.

I mean, there were a couple of drives that were absolutely flogged, and they didn’t say a word. Not one. I’m there all puffed up like a rooster thinking “look at moi, look at moi” and if they noticed, they did a brilliant job of hiding it.

At first I thought I’ll hit it harder, but Gemma laid her hand upon my forearm after one particularly violent swing and said: “sometimes it’s more effective to hit it better.” She even patted my arm as she said it.

It was a revelation: maybe even an epiphany. I stopped trying to bludgeon the ball and started swinging the golf club.

You know? Gently back, a little pause at the top, swing through and all that? That got their attention. “Ooooh, that was a nice swing. I liked that one.”

They talked about grooving the ball. And tempo. And chipping with an 8-iron, the way their coach Anne Rollo had taught them. It was magic, actually. “Thanks, Anne,” they’d say after hitting a good chip, even though Anne wasn’t with us.

So, I chipped with an 8-iron, too. Like my mum taught me when I was 13 or so.

It was brilliant. Whilst I didn’t actually score very well, the play was better. We golfed, you know? How good is golf! And the next day, playing with the boys, I tried again – for a while, anyway. Then the little devil got between the ears and said, “don’t hit it better… hit it harder!” As for tours – I’ve just signed up for another to Scotland next year. The Golf Touring Company have the details.

*** A note to say how sorry I’m sure we all are to hear the news about Jarrod Lyle.

Our paths crossed on just a few occasions, he was always generous with his time, humour and good grace. It was interesting to hear golfers like Adam Scott, Jason Day and Marc Leishman speak of his legacy, that we should remember to take stock of the good things in life – whilst we’re living it.

Jarrod’s struggles have been more than most of us will be asked to endure, and yet, he seemed to manage them with courage and aplomb.

An email I received from Bryan, in Kilargo, suggested a Jarrod Lyle Golf Day around Australia – so “he could see how much he’s loved – by all, not just those that know him.” It’s a lovely idea, a chance to help his young family through a difficult time. A chance to remember a courageous member of our broader golfing club.

We should do that.

“IT WAS A REVELATION: MAYBE EVEN AN EPIPHANY. I STOPPED TRYING TO BLUDGEON THE BALL AND STARTED SWINGING THE GOLF CLUB.”