THRIFTY, NIFTY, SHIFTY AND DOC

It’s a marvellous thing to be involved in an official cup competition for the very first time. To be selected to compete is a proud moment in any sporting personalities lifetime, and it was no different for yours truly.

I was selected to play for the local club in the Hull and District competition. 12 clubs, 7 pairs per club, 18 holes, a better ball medal. How exciting. All those players at the club and I got the call.

Well when I say I got the call perhaps  I’m over egging it a bit. It was more a case of desperation on behalf of my team mate the Big Easy. A Whats App message sent to the golf group begging someone to come to his assistance, went unheard by the many. They probably had to go shopping, visit a garden centre, or just couldn’t be bothered to reply. As a man who is not willing to let people down, unlike some (please take note Mr Kryton), I responded to the call. Possibly a little too quickly, as the Big Easy jumped on my reply and I was in. The tardiness of my colleagues does have to be brought into question here.

Cometh the day cometh the golfer. Springhead here we come.

A 9.30 tee off against who knows who. Brief introductions to our competitors on the day and we were taking on two guys from Cave Castle. The Big Easy was playing off 14 and me 22. The opposition 10 and 8 respectively.

To put this in perspective the Big Easy’s regular partner the Doc had absconded, allegedly hiking the inaccessible Accursed Mountain of Albania, rather than traversing the accursed  undulations of Springhead.

The odds were stacked against us, the Big Easy had suffered a week of debilitating man flu and I had been incapacitated with sickness and dier, dyer, diarear, diharea, diahareeer, the s***s!

A strong coffee on a chilly morning, in the community hub, was our booster jab for the day. By all accounts this is Handy’s diner of choice and with free bread dished out weekly, the Big Easy is always keen to come back. Thrifty.

If anyone requires evidence to not give up on a hole, my experience at the 2^nd was proof enough. With my propensity to  fade the ball (or is it slice) my partner suggested I fire left of centre. Which I did and hit a tree, watched the ball land 10 feet away from me and with a full view of the fairway blocked by said tree it wasn’t looking good. Thankfully, a 7 iron cleared the defoliating deciduous and I found the fairway. A wood, a chip and a putt later and I had achieved a nett par.  Just goes to show, keep your cool, don’t blow it and things can only get better, sometimes. Pretty nifty eh! Pity I can rarely heed my own advice.

At every bad hole the Big Easy has the capacity to recover well, as for me my muscle memory seems to disappear from one hole to the next and only reveal itself in fits and starts. This brings into question whether I should go back the Tuesday night lessons during the winter period?

Our opposition on the day were pleasant enough but I must question if it is all too serious an adventure for me to play on a regular basis. Assuming I ever get asked again of course.

In the end we beat the opposition by 2 shots and finished bang average across all the teams. Not too shabby for a first and maybe last attempt.

With the imminent return of the Doc I am sure the Big Easy was relieved however he did have to partner me once more in the Hornsea  Senior Betterball Open, a week hence.

HORNSEA

The Doc returned from eating sheep brains in Albania and was  teamed up with the Judge as we went round as a four. The pairs following consisted of the Beau and Handy, an old pals pairing who would reminisce about Handy’s days in the Mob and the Metronome alongside Kryton, would be given a chance to have a much needed catch up.

The course looked lush in the low hanging nimbostratus and after many months of BORROWING my old putter to hone his skills, the Doc unleashed his new putting style onto the green baize of Hornsea.

Today was not the Big Easy’s day he mustered us one point on the first, in comparison to the Judge’s 4. In my absence it appeared the Judge was once again back to his former self and with a high handicap was pulling in the £1’s left right and centre. On occasion this kid could be putter less but never rudderless.

At the 2^nd and 3^rd the Big Easy went out of bounds with both his drives. His dour  mood was becoming as grey as the sky blanket. The mood darkened even further at the 4^th tee when the Doc’s phone decided to go off just as he was about to cock the trigger. If it was grey before now it was inky black.

My par at 2nd was mm away from being a birdie but we did get 3 points. At which point the Doc said in his most sympathetic of voices  “I hope that doesn’t happen to you every hole”, he then went on to leave his putt a mere cm or two from the hole. Grabbed by the Golfing Gods there, me thinks.

At the 7^th the first par 3 of the day, the Big Easy’s mood lifted, every  tee shot hit the green and we were all in with a chance of joining the two’s club. Fractional misses either side of the hole left us all disappointed with a par.

By the time we entered the half way house, the Big Easy was already chomping at the cake and sausage rolls, he’d left his bit outside the door! The cup of tea was a  welcome relief as the chill wind had got up but worse was to follow.

At the 10^th the heavens opened and the rain didn’t come down, it swept through in horizontal sheets of varying degrees of thickness. Here, I also made the Big Easy go back and hit three off the tee, sadly to no avail, as I bagged a bogey. Cue noir.

Under the protection of a wood hut we changed into wet weather gear only to see the Big Easy head out into the face of the blizzard. It was reminiscent of Titus Oates during Scott’s expedition of the Antarctic in 1912.  I’m sure we heard him say,  “I am just going out and may be some time.!” Thankfully we found him further down the fairway, a changed man.

As the Judge was about to tee off at the 13^th players waiting on the 10^th directly behind him continued with their loud conversation at which point said Judge stated “Don’t let my golf interrupt your conversation.” Cutting or what.

By the15^th just as his partner was about to tee off, the Judge was humming with happiness. The Doc a little perturbed reciprocated with an indigenous East Hull dance, akin to a happy vagrant who had just discovered a full bottle of Diamond White. It wouldn’t have won Strictly but it was agile for a man of his advancing years.

After a five-hour trek, involving rain, wind and mire, we were all happy to get in at the 18^th for a drink and a review.

Scores on the day.

Metronome and Kryton 41 and bagging £20 each. The Judge and Doc 40, Beau and Handy 38, Wormburner and Big Easy 31. We weren’t at the races.

Nevertheless, the majority, of us enjoyed the day.

 

GOLFER’S NIGHT OUT

Roll on to our monthly meal out. To accommodate the Beau’s drum lesson, multiple adjustments were made in the build-up. As the evening approached Kryton and the C_ns_n_nt K_d kid dipped out. Mrs Wormburner struggled valiantly to cross town and ensure myself, the Big Easy and the Metronome got there on time.  The Doc spent over an hour traversing the mighty River Hull and Handy who lives handily arrived 20 minutes late. Unbelievably  the Judge and the Beau were 1 hour and 20 minutes late and by all accounts the latter  hadn’t had a drum lesson!

Readers may wish to know how team selections are made for all the competitions we participate in. Simple really, the names are passed to me via the Metronome, I put them in a hat and Mrs Wormburner picks them out. Repetitive pairing of the Metronome and Kryton however had brought into question my beloved’s integrity. It’s a brave man who does this but luckily enough I dissuaded her from running down the Metronome as he advanced towards his lift for the evening.

After several beers and a dodgy curry, the following day at Skidby Lakes he did get his come uppence. By all accounts his backside resembled a Japanese flag, his stomach burbled and gurgled and his head got too hot. He was well and truly Jalfrezi’d.  How saag!

On the night the Judge also bagged himself a freebie to a Sunday driver at Ramside and along with the Doc took the money. Rumour has it he fitted in well and was liked by one and all, which this author finds  a little difficult to believe. Very shifty.

 

FOREST PARK GOLF CLUB

FOREST PARK GOLF CLUB
Type of course	Parkland	18 holes	Par 71
Course distance	White 6665 yds	Yellow 6341 yds	Red 5716 yds
Holes	4 x Par 3	11 x Par 4	3 x Par 5
Played	21/10/24	Rating 71	Slope 130
Claim to Fame: Home of Forest Park Pro Am PGA

 

It had been a few months since the boys from the Wednesday stuff had ventured out to take on a new course, so I was looking forward to a new venue, with a new boy in attendance.  Once again Kryton and  the C_ns_n_nt K_d were unable to make the date, so in came our academy summer signing from the High Chapparal, none other than Blue Boy.

A man well known for enjoying the high life of Hull, loving Northern Soul and sport but most recently through the communication of social media revealing himself to be more of a blue than a red.

Forest Park, northeast of York, a reciprocal course to our very own and just under an hour away, is situated on the outskirts of the village, Stockton on the Forest.

The club prides itself on being York's Finest 27 Hole golf complex, comprising of the 18 hole Old Foss Course and the 9 hole West Course. To my knowledge it is possibly the only 27 hole complex in and around York, so there you go.

A flat, easy walking, parkland course, with tree lined fairways and large greens, At £33 it isn’t cheap but reciprocity means you don’t have to pay a penny. Now that is a bargain, even the Yorkshire men amongst us could not complain about. Thrifty.

According to the web site the presentation of this quality golfing venue is maintained to a high standard by green staff who modern equipment and technology.

Entering the course you pass a vast practice range and are met by a single-story building of brick and glass encased in white UPVC surrounds, very Scandi. The bar and restaurant  are adorned with well upholstered chairs and the changing rooms have leather backed seats and settees for the ailing golfer to relax in.

The par 71, 18 hole course, makes good use of the Old Foss Beck - a stream which meanders through the course - creating a natural hazard on many of the holes.

In places, the course was wet under foot and the intricate zigzag design saw many fairways run parallel. Due to the dampness, the course played long on the day, and the first two holes were a disappointment for our four ball of myself, the Metronome, the Beau and Blue Boy. Not so for our competition on the day, the Big Easy, the Doc, Handy and the Judge. 2 from 4 to count and the opposition had 9 points to our 4.

The dog leg right 1^st at 433 yards, SI 6 saw Blue Boy suffer from  the off, me out of bounds as I headed towards the green and the Beau and the Metronome scrambling for a point each.

The 398 yard 2^nd SI 2 has out of bounds running all the way up the right hand side and the fairly small green is tucked tightly into the far corner. As the Beau and Blue Boy rattled into the out of bounds I scrambled a couple of points but that was it for this hole.

The Metronome’s slow start was probably down to too much frivolity celebrating National Spreadsheet Day, for as we all know he likes to shade in the odd cell or two. Likewise the Beau who had been engaged in decorating the love nest was feeling the pain of brushing, rolling and cutting in. A veritable pink paradise.

A par and a birdie for myself and the Beau gave us an excellent 7 points at the 170 yard, par 3, 5^th.

At the par 3 7^th, the Big Easy was observed striding out with the Judge trudging behind. With all intents and purpose it appeared that our opponents weren’t having it all their own way. Looks however can be deceiving, for the Big Easy parred and the Judge birdied. As to our attempts at this simple 130 yard SI 17 par 3, the Beau found the pond lying directly in front of the green, Blue Boy went right and me and the Metronome went left. Whereas the Metronome parred and Blue Boy bogeyed, I didn’t and the Beau spent somewhere in the region of 15 minutes trying to retrieve his original ball from the watery depths. Thrifty and he’s not even a Yorkshireman.

We fought valiantly to achieve 39 points on the front nine against 41 for the opposition.

Everybody contributed throughout and when Blue Boy lost his ball in a large pile of leaves, if there was any chance of finding the ball, a definite seek and search pattern had to be incorporated. The renowned green keepers were using blowers and vacuums to pile up and suck up said foliage but lo betide anyone who entered  the longitudinal piles awaiting a suck.

The club web site considers the 10^th 11th and 12^th as their very own Amen Corner! It didn’t appear to hold too many issues for either foursome, although Blue Boy did leave his 7 iron behind, thankfully picked up and returned by a following group.

As stated earlier, Old Foss Beck, running across the course is used as a natural hazard and myself, Blue Boy, the Big Easy and Handy can all testify to that. A fast-flowing deep beck where a ball can only be retrieved if you are carrying the appropriate equipment. We weren’t.

At the 15^th my decision to use a ball wash proved futile and the ball was eventually retrieved when the Metronome removed the holding post, turned it upside down and whacked it against the ground. Good result.

On reaching the 15^th green a cheer from the opposite numbers indicated the Doc had just dropped his first ever hole in one at the 16^th. Playing 154 yards this par 3 SI 7, was beasted with a 5 hybrid. Allegedly his celebrations were muted. The thought of having to buy a bottle of Grouse in the clubhouse was clearly giving him palpitations. As for us, his 5 pointer plus the 3 from the Big Easy, knocked the stuffing out of our team. We were as deflated as child’s disused rubber ring!

In the end our total of 78 points was more than overshadowed by a marvellous 88.

Let us take nothing away from the Doc’s first ever hole in one. The odds of achieving this fantastic feat are said to be 1:13000, to have three like the Metronome however is just taking the mick!

As he considers alcohol should only be used as an antiseptic, the custom of buying a bottle of whiskey and everyone receiving a tot, is not in the Doc’s makeup and he declined the opportunity to ingratiate himself with one and all. Even Kryton bought everyone a pasty when he achieved his hole in one at Skidby Lakes 18^th.

The tradition is said to date back more than a century, and some theories suggest it began as a way of repaying the "Golf Gods" for the golfer's good fortune however, there are different interpretations of the rules, and some golfers may:

1.      Open a tab at the bar

2.      Limit the drinks to their playing partners  OR

3.      Give nowt, zilch, diddly squat.

Rumour has it he left Forest Park and wined and dined his competition partner at one of York’s high-end restaurants. ‘The Home of the Roast’, locally known as the Hopgrove Toby Carvery. By all accounts he splashed out on Toby Tasters at £4.99 for two. No expense spared for this East Hull property magnate.

Thrifty, Nifty, Shifty and the Doc all rolled into one.