Calamity Jane Hits the Fairways

CALAMITY JANE HITS THE FAIRWAYS

I MAY NOT HAVE MANAGED AN EAGLE BUT I SURE AM GONNA GET THAT SEAGULL

Now I freely acknowledge that I will never be the world’s greatest golf player, well not for a while as such aspirations are a little unwise after just six lessons and as someone delicately mentioned, middle age! I hasten to add that they have been taken off my friends listing. Yet despite my growing enthusiasm for the sport as well as my lack of technical ability I was sniggered at.  Having already been told that I ‘squidge’ my face up when under pressure or in most cases when it comes to hitting the ball and having watched Dara’s action reply of my erratic wrist movement which makes my golf more akin to Mr Bean than Tiger Woods I have come to realise that all those little things were nothing compared to the attitude of a two legged, beady eyed, grey and white golf critic, aka a seagull.

So there I was having a lesson in chipping while Dara stood in what could only be described as a ‘man suffering’ pose while I lined up my first shot.  This and later ones didn’t go too badly.  OK, they more rolled along the ground at speed rather than elegantly rising and rolling across the putting green but boy did they move and I nearly got a hole in one.  After punching the air wildly and exclaiming loudly about take a look at that!  Dara kindly pointed out that whilst my shots had gone past a hole and yes I had nearly got a hole in one I was in fact supposed to be aiming for the hole with the yellow and white flag and not the black and red one half a mile away.  So it was back to hitting the grass again to work on a somewhat more delicate and controlled swing when a sharp cackle caught my attention.  Sitting behind me was the resident golf critic, the expression on its face one of amused contempt.  Even more upsetting was when I scowled he opened his beak as if yawning from boredom.  Of course being a beginner gives you so much leeway to make mistakes, I mean it would have been a great shame if I had misinterpreted an instruction and hit the ball the wrong way therefore relieving said seagull of its smug expression but I was prevented from doing so by the steely look that came into its eye.  It reminded me of my grandmother when she was cross and I was sure that any such transgression would result in me having to stand in a corner until forgiven (eventually!).

So, in an attempt to perfect my game and to actually get my shoulders to move rather than just my wrists Dara came up with a cunning plan; I had to hit the golf ball so that it would move a coin placed in front of it.  And it worked!  Much to my surprise and instead of landing half a mile away I actually got within a couple of feet of the intended target. 

So until next time it will be practice, practice, practice…………………………..and of course it’s always helpful if you have something to aim at!

C.J