Playing with another man's balls
Oh dear. Coming down the 18Th fairway yesterday at Duns (MPBUI)having hit a very pleasing shot over the blind summit of the hill (see image) I found my ball exactly as visualised on the fairway and about 150 yards from the green (strong headwind) I proceeded to hit a four iron to the middle of the green giving my a reasonable birdie chance. Self congratulations were rudely interrupted by a plaintive cry ' You have played the wrong ball' from a gentleman scurrying across from the first tee having sliced his shot 70 degrees off course. At that moment my playing partner found another ball in the rough just off the fairway about 10 yards from where I had played my shot. It was mine. I should have checked but never expected....... Apologies all round and a promise to put the wrong ball behind the bar for the aggrieved party to pick up after his round.(This was to save me dashing the 3oo yards round trip to the green and back to pick up the 'wrong' ball)
In the bar consoling myself (yes I made a bit of a mess of my shot with my ball, since you ask) I was deep in a soothing conversation with a guy who was off to play at Newcastle County Down (PBUI) next month. I was terrifying him with the prospect of having to play over, around and in the famous Gorse which is such a feature of the Royal County Down(bracket contents as read)when he calmly informed me that his Borders based nursery had supplied Newcastle with gorse bushes for the last many years. Gorse bushes to Newcastle -talk about the proverbial coal. First the new Newcastle Police station wall made from Chinese granite, with the Mournes full of it; and now imported Gorse. 'And there stood Ruth amidst the alien Gorse' to paraphrase the Good Book, slightly. We will be importing heather next-and indeed perhaps we are-I dursn't ask.
And the wrong golf ball. I found it in my pocket this morning. In all the excitement
I had clean forgot to leave it behind the bar. So I will have to make a special trip to Duns today.
Might as well take my clubs.
Life is hard in the Borders.