As far as my golf game goes I’ve not been in the most sparkling of form recently. In fact, the harder I’ve tried the worse things seem to have got. Admittedly I did have the good fortune to win low gross in my flight at the recent MISGA event at Gabriola a few weeks ago, but past president Andre Lemieux was quick to point out that my round of 87 was, and I quote, “quite possibly the worst winning gross score in the history of MISGA.”
Back at my home course of Glacier Greens things have not been going well either. I had a stretch of five consecutive rounds of, yes, 87 followed by an 89. This would be ok if I was, say, an 18 handicap but I’m actually a 13 (though clearly not for long if this keeps up).
And then last Monday something rather odd happened. I managed a score of 81 – obviously a definite improvement, although I only managed to hit three greens in regulation. But here’s the thing: I made birdie on all three of those holes! For someone who thinks he’s on a hot streak if he gets three birdies in a calendar month this was unheard of.
But wait, there’s more! (Now I sound like one of those TV salesmen offering you a free potato peeler if you call in right away to buy a Magic Veggie Shredder or something.)
At Saturday Men’s Morning at Glacier yesterday I got three more birdies. And not only that – they were the first three holes I played! 3 under par after 3 holes! My usual playing partners, Keith, Rod and Bobby, kept looking sideways at me and trying – but failing – to act as though it was something I did all the time.
Obviously it didn’t last. I followed up with a whole bunch of bogies and a couple of doubles thrown in for good measure, but I managed to hang on and shoot 80 and win low net in B Flight.
So the question is: do I include my Gabriola score and say I’ve had my three charmed rounds, or is my third good one still to come? Well, tomorrow I’m playing with Al, Glen and Donny – my travelling companions on our forthcoming golf trip to Scotland – and whether I meet with triumph or disaster I’ll try to treat those two imposters just the same.*
If things go spectacularly well, you’ll be the first to know (but don’t get your hopes up).
All da best!
Dave B.
(* from Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If”)