January 21st 2018
Today I swam around a golf course. For some reason, even though I was deathly hungover and it was pouring with rain, I decided to play golf this morning. Although, I’m not sure you could still call it golf.
You know how you can take one sport, put it on a different surface then call it something else? Like how football with your hands is ‘handball’, but handball in a pool is ‘water polo’. Well today we invented a new sport, it was that wet.
Golf balls weren’t so much landing on the green as floating on it. You can imagine that it’s quite difficult to get a ball to fall down a hole, if the hole is beneath two inches of water. It was like chucking a golf ball into a full bathtub and hoping it would fall down the plughole. Difficult, as you can imagine.
I’ve said it before, but my insistent habit of playing golf in freezing and/or wet weather is probably why I’ve had the same cold since before Christmas.
It’s all good fun though, right? Well, not really. We bailed after 13 holes today because it was past the point of fun.
My logic is that I need to struggle through the winter whilst playing consistently, so that in the summer when it’s thirty degrees and I’m playing golf in a t-shirt and shorts I’ll be at the top of my game. We’re actually thinking of booking a golfing holiday to Portugal in April, so I’m hoping that the wet and windy winter hours I’ve put in recently will reward me with good form when I’m playing golf courses on the cliffs of the Algarve.
Until tomorrow, at the very least it’ll be warmer there.