There are times when Huttonian wonders why he plays golf. Can it be for enjoyment. The neo Fish forecast mentioned a 80% possibility of heavy rain and strong winds-the little blue puddles on the BBC map-0perating despite the strike-were centred on Norn Iron so I knew it was safe to play anticipating zephry breezes and bright sunshine.
On the 16th tee I was already soaked to the skin. My special gale proof brollie was unusable as the wind and rain just brushed it aside and it needed two hands to keep it at the optimum 45 degree position so unless you pulled your trolley with your teeth you were in danger of being marooned. Water ran continuously down my glasses reducing visibility to 30 inches (ie 75 centimetres in the Euro Zone) My partner had lost 4 balls and I was extra wet from searching for them for the proscribed polite 5 minutes. Then I had a magic moment making it all worth while. A lovely shot heading into the teeth of the wind and through the murk towards the green straight at the flag-my glasses cleared long enough to know that this was going to b e one of these memorable birdies to tell the three grandchildren about-and my partner was lost again in some viscous gorse.
Twenty minutes later I still had not found my ball. Not in the hole, not even on the green. The rain was worse, the wind stronger-my skin wetter. My partner peering at his watch (5 minutes for his ball 20 minutes for mine is a reasonable rule of thumb) No phantom ball finder with his trained Alsation anywhere to be seen. So I lost the hole, lost the ball (£3 at least) and all after a wonderful shot in challenging circumstances.
Why do I play the game? Oh yes, it is for the exercise
