Musings from the Merse
Thursday, December 01, 2011
RETURNING TO GOLF?
For the second time in a week I have ventured down to Puton Mill for a golf lesson. Just back from the gym-forced marching and cycling have exhausted me but at least very good for morale and the next step will be an outing to the Duns Golf Club(MPBUI)I have akso been toning up my muscles at the gym The marching is to tone up my legs which are very weak after two years of under use
For the second time in a week I have ventured down to Puton Mill for a golf lesson. Just back from the gym-forced marching and cycling have exhausted me but at least very good for morale and the next step will be an outing to the Duns Golf Club(MPBUI)I have akso been toning up my muscles at the gym The marching is to tone up my legs which are very weak after two years of under use
Labels: Golf
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Update
Just back from the gym-forced marching and cycling have exhausted me but at least we were inside away from the rain. Last night we watched a bewitching edition of The Choir with Gareth Malone. Do find it on IPlayer as it is a magical hour. Rev continues to charm as well and this series is up to the standard set by the first
I have had a session with the teaching pro at Puton Mill. I surprised my self with my length off the tee with my driver and 8 Iron. Also my dhort putts were dead on line. Mr Sadler seemed quite impressed. Next step is to get back on the course if I can find someone prepared to play only a few holes
Just back from the gym-forced marching and cycling have exhausted me but at least we were inside away from the rain. Last night we watched a bewitching edition of The Choir with Gareth Malone. Do find it on IPlayer as it is a magical hour. Rev continues to charm as well and this series is up to the standard set by the first
I have had a session with the teaching pro at Puton Mill. I surprised my self with my length off the tee with my driver and 8 Iron. Also my dhort putts were dead on line. Mr Sadler seemed quite impressed. Next step is to get back on the course if I can find someone prepared to play only a few holes
Labels: Depression, Golf, The Choir
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Dogged Does It
Huttonian was not going to post again about golf-of little interest to the Merse readership (Patience-back in the Borders all too soon)but he is still recovering from unprecedented experiences on the Championship course of the Royal County Down (PBUI)So I record for posterity that the worst golfers I have ever had the misfortune to encounter in 50 years of golfing were not amongst the usual suspects on the Annesley Course, aka Ladies Course, aka Hen Run where hacker is King (more usually Queen) but on the hallowed turf of the NO 1 links-specifically the second hole. This couple of elderly gents, indeed elderly by contemporary standards plus a decrepit dog seemingly pulling one of their golf trolleys took 30 minutes to traverse the 150 yards from the tee to the top of the ridge where the fairway starts-see image. Old Gent # one took 21 shots (not including air shots-complete misses); Gent Two: 19 and the dog was about to play his 14th when he was rather rudely told to pick up his ball and stop wasting time (I am interpreting the body language, the actual words were lost on the wind)The playing of shots (for want of s better description) were punctuated with tut tuts, effings and blindings and in the case of the dog, with two craps.
I calculated that at 30 minutes for 150 yards this party would take 11 hours to complete the 9 hole circuit back to the club house. A full day for the 18 allowing for comfort stops and a couple of takeaways. So I went on my way, ducking and dodging past them-there was no offer to let me through
I kept an eye open for the wanderers who were approaching the third green as I drove off the 9th so there must have been a sudden burst of speed somewhere.
To be safe I reported the party to the professional shop in case a search party had to be sent out. The guy who sold the green fees recognised my description. 'They were on the Championship Course? But I sold them tickets for the Hen Run-they said it was their first time on a golf course-must have gone to the wrong tee' 'Perhaps someone should go and rescue them' I suggested' its tough out there in the vast desert caverns of the 4th and 5th; no water no food;we surely don't want their skeletons showing up in a month or so!'
'I wouldn't worry said the Assistant Pro. Its not as bad as all that. They may be complete novices but I happen to know that
their dog has played before'
(Golf bloggees should go here
Huttonian was not going to post again about golf-of little interest to the Merse readership (Patience-back in the Borders all too soon)but he is still recovering from unprecedented experiences on the Championship course of the Royal County Down (PBUI)So I record for posterity that the worst golfers I have ever had the misfortune to encounter in 50 years of golfing were not amongst the usual suspects on the Annesley Course, aka Ladies Course, aka Hen Run where hacker is King (more usually Queen) but on the hallowed turf of the NO 1 links-specifically the second hole. This couple of elderly gents, indeed elderly by contemporary standards plus a decrepit dog seemingly pulling one of their golf trolleys took 30 minutes to traverse the 150 yards from the tee to the top of the ridge where the fairway starts-see image. Old Gent # one took 21 shots (not including air shots-complete misses); Gent Two: 19 and the dog was about to play his 14th when he was rather rudely told to pick up his ball and stop wasting time (I am interpreting the body language, the actual words were lost on the wind)The playing of shots (for want of s better description) were punctuated with tut tuts, effings and blindings and in the case of the dog, with two craps.
I calculated that at 30 minutes for 150 yards this party would take 11 hours to complete the 9 hole circuit back to the club house. A full day for the 18 allowing for comfort stops and a couple of takeaways. So I went on my way, ducking and dodging past them-there was no offer to let me through
I kept an eye open for the wanderers who were approaching the third green as I drove off the 9th so there must have been a sudden burst of speed somewhere.
To be safe I reported the party to the professional shop in case a search party had to be sent out. The guy who sold the green fees recognised my description. 'They were on the Championship Course? But I sold them tickets for the Hen Run-they said it was their first time on a golf course-must have gone to the wrong tee' 'Perhaps someone should go and rescue them' I suggested' its tough out there in the vast desert caverns of the 4th and 5th; no water no food;we surely don't want their skeletons showing up in a month or so!'
'I wouldn't worry said the Assistant Pro. Its not as bad as all that. They may be complete novices but I happen to know that
their dog has played before'
(Golf bloggees should go here
Labels: Bad golfers, Golf, Newcastle, Royal County Down
Monday, April 20, 2009
Landscape with Faffers Huttonian had forgotten that it was Monday when standing on the first tee this morning. Mournes misty; sun hot; wind none. 7.45 am. Not another golfer in sight. Bliss. On stilts.
But it was Monday and as I crested the rise to the first green I saw the second fairway was as crowded as a G20 demo in EC1. An army of apparent faffers were moving slowly down the fairway, poking the soil with sticks and filling holes with bits of turf and sand. Not faffers as in hackers from Belfast, but faffers as in retreaded green keepers retained solely for Monday morning duties; the divot fillers.
, the hacked sod replacers, the turf fairies of the Anneseley Course (MPBUI)Fit only for a half day's work, on the 19th hole of their lives, they painfully slowly progress green wards, stopping every few seconds to fill in the collateral damage left by hordes of week end trippers 'Golfers' an inaccurate description of that species of sub human, homo faffians, the £13 green fee Genghis Khant-hit-a-ball-to save-my-life polluter who does more damage in a round of 'golf' than global warming ever managed in a decade.
I was stuck behind their resolutely collectively turned backs; shouting 'fore' pointless given the lack of a one hearing aid amongst the 12 of them. Nothing for it but to risk a drive over their heads, a mad dash past and a quick 8 iron to the green. A wonderful birdie as it happens but not one of the twelve noticed this unusual feat. The youngest, about three score years and a couple of rounds more, glanced up as I passed-grimaced at me,squinted at the cloudless light blue hazy sky, grunted at my greeting and apology and pronounced
'Looks like rain' ('hopefully' he meant)
I asked about the pock marked fairways and commiserated with the task of repairing tbe ravages of Huns who would rather die than be caught replacing their divots
'Thems good for us' he said.' No damage to repair, no pay cheque'
I carefully replaced any divots I inflicted as I went on my way; and as I did so my main emotion was not of satisfaction of a crisp 5 iron, well struck. spinning back towards the pin but a slight feeling of
guilt.
In a recession leave your divots where they lie.
You know it makes good economic sense.
Mr Darling
Labels: Golf, Newcastle, Norn Iron, Royal County Down
Monday, September 22, 2008
"I am sorry Sir" said the pleasant, assistant deputy Acting Head Greenkeeper, just after Huttonian had nailed a 250 yard whizzer down the 11th Fairway, 'You are a bit previous Back* Nine does not open until 0930' I looked at my watch. It was 0929. 'Minute to go then' 'No this is the eleventh. You are ten minutes ahead. Clock starts on the 10th tee. You will get entangled with our fairway modulating machinery and the greens will not be ready for you. Suggest you walk through the team ahead and start on the 12th.'
I crested the hill of this 'blind drive' hole. The 11th fairway stretched ahead of me. No Machines; no teams just my ball bang in the middle of the presumably unmodulated fairway. I decided to play on. Then discovered that there was no flag on the green. It was not ready for me? Not to worry. I did not get to where I ought to be today worrying about flags on greens, or the lack thereof. Five iron. Splat. Middle of green. No flag but a hole-5 feet from the ball. Nice three.
Enter stage right on his iron steed. A green keeper, second class just junior to an assistant, deputy, acting Head Green keeper. 'Sorry Sir. You are a bit previous. The twelfth fairway ahead of youis full of modulating equipment and the greens ahead are not ready for you' I looked at my watch 0942. The Tenth hole had presumably been modulated and green ready for 12 minutes. 'Should I wait? I asked. 'Could be a long time, I suggest you carry on on the No 2 Course. I did so glad that I had not paid £125 to play on the championship course (PBUI) and then turned off it to be fobbed off with the £23 Annesley-mind the ladies and watch out for the hackers-course.
AS I went off to the 6th tee on the 'henrun' I noticed Stalker and the Ball Finding Alsatian waiting patiently in the rough beside the 11th Fairway in anticipation the great harvest of balls hit over the blind summit and hooked into the gorse. Which they would be able to see but not the hapless striker. I really could not be bothered to tell them that until the fairway had been modulated and the green prepared they might have a long wait until any more golfers were allowed through.
Patience brings its own reward.
They say
(The image is of the view from the furthest forward of the tees at the 11th. Once the ball has cleared the hill you will not see it again until you have climber over the ridge.
Even then you might not see it again if Stalker has got there first)
* Back as in second 9-you are coming back, eventually.
Labels: Golf, Green Keepers, Norn Iron, Royal County Down
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Off to the Province
And so after a long period of self denial it is off to Norn Iron for a few holes of golf and a chance to write the second edition of that rip roaring best seller : Jordan A Hashemite Legacy A paper back edition out by the autumn and so there will be no need to have to fork out £65 for the hardback . Mind you worth every penny, but still. I fear non-golfing bloggees will have a thin time but normal service from the Merse will be re-established on 1 May. No big tournament to frustrate the ordinary player as was the case with the Walker Cup last September and I am told that the Royal County Down (PBUI) is in tip top condition.
The image is of a previous visit to Newcastle-a fine lofted drive-click on image and you will be rewarded with the sight of the ball, soaring, dead straight, as seen against Cloud 9. Surely a magnificent birdie coming up.
And so after a long period of self denial it is off to Norn Iron for a few holes of golf and a chance to write the second edition of that rip roaring best seller : Jordan A Hashemite Legacy A paper back edition out by the autumn and so there will be no need to have to fork out £65 for the hardback . Mind you worth every penny, but still. I fear non-golfing bloggees will have a thin time but normal service from the Merse will be re-established on 1 May. No big tournament to frustrate the ordinary player as was the case with the Walker Cup last September and I am told that the Royal County Down (PBUI) is in tip top condition.
The image is of a previous visit to Newcastle-a fine lofted drive-click on image and you will be rewarded with the sight of the ball, soaring, dead straight, as seen against Cloud 9. Surely a magnificent birdie coming up.
Labels: Golf, Norn Iron, Royal County Down
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Bull and a Cock as well.
If the season is right, like now, with the odd large field lying fallow and cropped by animals, there is no need to flog out to Duns for a spot of golfing practice. Farmer C's big field, beyond the old Glebe field (which is ploughed and therefore too challenging even for a recovery club) is ideal for an intensive practice session. A small drawback -see the image- are the black cows, unusually late in the year, enjoying the pasture. But cows are no real impediment. Tough hides are good protection should one slightly miscue and although there is a small danger of having your favourite Titleist 3 swallowed you will always get it back; eventually. It goes through four stomachs and emerges no worse for wear- certainly nothing that a quick lick and a polish can't take care of.
Setting off with a song in my heart and 20 balls in my pockets I was admiring the black ruminants as I wondered whether to play a 4 or 5 iron. Just before I hit I glanced up to reassess my line when in my peripheral vision I detected a steady if stealthy movement. Out of the ruck of All Blacks a dun brown animal detached itself and was heading in my direction; strange; unusual to mix the species. Well built for a heifer or even a Bullock and behold-swing low sweet chariots-large ones as well.
Satiated it may have been; lethargic possibly but I was not risking any post coital tristesse. Up with the ball and out of the gate.
Closing it very carefully behind me.
Its the 10 miles to Puton Mill Driving Range after all.
(* if you click to enlarge the image and look right you will just see the Brown Job lurking behind one of cows-sadly thecow in question is obscuring his credentials)
If the season is right, like now, with the odd large field lying fallow and cropped by animals, there is no need to flog out to Duns for a spot of golfing practice. Farmer C's big field, beyond the old Glebe field (which is ploughed and therefore too challenging even for a recovery club) is ideal for an intensive practice session. A small drawback -see the image- are the black cows, unusually late in the year, enjoying the pasture. But cows are no real impediment. Tough hides are good protection should one slightly miscue and although there is a small danger of having your favourite Titleist 3 swallowed you will always get it back; eventually. It goes through four stomachs and emerges no worse for wear- certainly nothing that a quick lick and a polish can't take care of.
Setting off with a song in my heart and 20 balls in my pockets I was admiring the black ruminants as I wondered whether to play a 4 or 5 iron. Just before I hit I glanced up to reassess my line when in my peripheral vision I detected a steady if stealthy movement. Out of the ruck of All Blacks a dun brown animal detached itself and was heading in my direction; strange; unusual to mix the species. Well built for a heifer or even a Bullock and behold-swing low sweet chariots-large ones as well.
Satiated it may have been; lethargic possibly but I was not risking any post coital tristesse. Up with the ball and out of the gate.
Closing it very carefully behind me.
Its the 10 miles to Puton Mill Driving Range after all.
(* if you click to enlarge the image and look right you will just see the Brown Job lurking behind one of cows-sadly thecow in question is obscuring his credentials)
Friday, October 05, 2007
TGIF Lets view a House
Huttonian knew when he woke to a glorious warm windless Autumnal day that scheduled golf at Duns (MPBUI) was doomed. And so it proved. A couple from Embra just had to see the Old Manse. Today. No: Monday nor the weekend would not do. Very pleasant and less than non commital. Seemed to like it. Or perhaps they didn't. Very interested or not at all. Impossible to say. Urgency? Not really explained. They had been looking at possible country houses off and on for several months. But it was a great day for a visit to the countryside.
They were sure about that.
And by the time that they had gone.
So had my game.
I was sad about that.
Huttonian knew when he woke to a glorious warm windless Autumnal day that scheduled golf at Duns (MPBUI) was doomed. And so it proved. A couple from Embra just had to see the Old Manse. Today. No: Monday nor the weekend would not do. Very pleasant and less than non commital. Seemed to like it. Or perhaps they didn't. Very interested or not at all. Impossible to say. Urgency? Not really explained. They had been looking at possible country houses off and on for several months. But it was a great day for a visit to the countryside.
They were sure about that.
And by the time that they had gone.
So had my game.
I was sad about that.
Labels: Golf, Selling the Manse
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Stalker and his Alsatian ball finder emerged from behind the 15th tee on the Royal County Down (PBUI) championship course as my partner and I were approaching the 14th Green.This was a very strange, indeed novel, point of entry for them as with a house just beside the 2nd green on the Annesley Course they were away off station. They watched us drive with great anticipation at the 15th standing in a sort of bog hole to the left of the fairway in which, as I watched, Stalker had already found at least two balls. We wondered what he does with his collection which must be immense-makes no attempt to sell to the golfers on the course. Perhaps he feeds the Dundrum Car Boot sale at weekends. Anyhow to day we drove straight and far past them and Ally's tail drooped a bit; wondering perhaps where his next bone was coming from.
Later I asked a guy in the Pro's shop if he bought balls from Stalker. 'Oh? Is he still around? I thought we had seen the last of him' He said. 'Why so? ' 'I had heard he had sold his house and garden at the 2nd and moved on' Got a tidy sum too-£1.5 million!'
1.5 million! And he still looks for golf balls!
There's the Norn Iron work ethic for you.
(The image is the drive from the 11th tee. The gorse to the right up the hill is a favourite happy hunting ground for Stalker and Ally)
Labels: Golf, Newcastle, Royal County Down
Saturday, September 15, 2007
SENIOR MOMENT # ONE
I ran into an old friend in Newcastle yesterday-fortunately neither of us were in cars. She had inadvertently 'cut' me on the golf course and explained that she had been a bit distracted. She had spent the statutory 5 minutes allowed under the rules looking for her ball on the 2nd fairway and also in the adjoining rough. She was just about to give up and play another when a sudden thought came to her.
She had forgotten to drive.
I suppose that may happen to all of us. But perhaps not to Tiger Woods.
His caddy will remind him. No doubt
I am out of images of the 2nd fairway. So instead I offer the tee shot at the 3rd played by a prominent local player
Labels: Golf, Norn Iron, Royal County Down
Friday, August 31, 2007
Lost Ba' over the Wa'
Playing the par 4 5th, called, irritatingly, 'The Hole in the Wa' in pseudo Border speak-at Duns (MPBUI) we were briefly held up by a chap with a stick, a shovel and a measuring device. Seeing us on the tee he kindly waved us through but without moving from the centre of the fairway-perhaps,he believed, the safest place to be! Trying to send my drive miles over his head I slightly pulled the shot and saw it drop safely just into the rough about parallel to his central position. Safely? Could not find it although the grass was short and the light excellent. 'Its probably in the field' said the surveyor-if that is what he was. 'Certainly not' said I 'It dropped well short' ''Well' he said with the stubborn certainty of the Borderer' That's the way it was heading' To humour him I looked in the field-recently cut it was and a ball would have been highly visible. No sign We reluctantly moved on and highly annoyed I hit my second ball well into the field, over the horizon-and never saw it again. Two balls gone in two shots.
5 holes later we were accosted on the tee by the same guy now roaming the fairways on his buggy. 'What make of ball ' did you lose?' He asked. I told him. He put into my hand. 'In the field it was-couldn't miss it. You gave up too soon' I thanked him through nearly gritted teeth-he roared off and spun on a wheelie turn and returned once more. 'And here is the other one' and tossed it to me. I don't know why I found this so irritating until when he had gone I looked at the second ball.
Not mine.
Much better in fact.
Did I race after him to return his find?
Did I Donald!
Playing the par 4 5th, called, irritatingly, 'The Hole in the Wa' in pseudo Border speak-at Duns (MPBUI) we were briefly held up by a chap with a stick, a shovel and a measuring device. Seeing us on the tee he kindly waved us through but without moving from the centre of the fairway-perhaps,he believed, the safest place to be! Trying to send my drive miles over his head I slightly pulled the shot and saw it drop safely just into the rough about parallel to his central position. Safely? Could not find it although the grass was short and the light excellent. 'Its probably in the field' said the surveyor-if that is what he was. 'Certainly not' said I 'It dropped well short' ''Well' he said with the stubborn certainty of the Borderer' That's the way it was heading' To humour him I looked in the field-recently cut it was and a ball would have been highly visible. No sign We reluctantly moved on and highly annoyed I hit my second ball well into the field, over the horizon-and never saw it again. Two balls gone in two shots.
5 holes later we were accosted on the tee by the same guy now roaming the fairways on his buggy. 'What make of ball ' did you lose?' He asked. I told him. He put into my hand. 'In the field it was-couldn't miss it. You gave up too soon' I thanked him through nearly gritted teeth-he roared off and spun on a wheelie turn and returned once more. 'And here is the other one' and tossed it to me. I don't know why I found this so irritating until when he had gone I looked at the second ball.
Not mine.
Much better in fact.
Did I race after him to return his find?
Did I Donald!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Huttonian duly attended the magic machine swing analyser at Dunbar and came away with a new hi-tech driver which will reduce the mighty fairways of the Royal County Down (PBUI) to the dimensions of a pitch and putt course. Dream on.
Dunbar Golf Club (founded 1865) has more bossy notices festooned about the club house area than any other golf establishment I have come across: Parking: Lady Captain only, Deputy Lady Captain, Disabled Lady Captain-ditto for the male officials. Members Car Park, Visitors Car Park (miles away) Mixed Lounge-Ladies Toilets only-keep off the grass, don't walk here, pitching only area, keep off (general advice) And the bossiness follows you around the course-This is a famous golf course.You have got to be serious. Don't spit in the bunkers.
After a longish drive (no pun intended) and an ill timed cup of diuretic (Fair Trade variety) I was anxious to make use of the facilities. Ignoring the many 'Ladies only' directions and failing to find the Gentlemen' (perhaps in egalitarian Scotland they do not exist?) I asked an obvious official. Sorry. Members Only. To make use of the club house you will need to purchase a green fee (£55). Gosh that's even more expensive than the public loo in Kelso.
I beat a hasty, crossed leg, retreat. and bearing in mind that there seemed to be no notice discouraging peeing in bunkers was saved from public exposure (npi) by the kind professional (in charge of the swingometer) allowing me use of his facility behind the Sand Wedges-just to the left of the Putters. Thankyou Mr Montgomery/.
Off to Duns (MPBUI) this very early am to try out the Galloway Big Bertha. Salivating at the possibility of a drive and a short putt at the long First. Alas for ambition.
COURSE CLOSED
How wet can you get?
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Longer and Straighter
No, not a spam e-mail about expanding male fundamentals, but a flyer from the professional at Dunbar Golf Club advocating custom fitting for new golf clubs. Huttonian, for the first time, after golfing, after a fashion, for nearly 60 years, has succumbed to this temptation. So it is off to East Lothian to be fitted for a new powerful, rocket science engineered, designed by a brain scientist, club. In my case there is a real need as my monster Taylor Made graphite shafted, plutonium headed weapon of grass destruction, together with many other similar big headed drivers (several thousands apparently) becomes illegal on 1 January next year. So needs must. And I look forward (with some trepidation)to having my swing analysed by the Laser Launch Monitor 'Golf Achiever' and then acquiring the perfect club which (with its customised, grip, shaft material, face loft, shaft length etc 'enhances ball striking' 'improves accuracy' 'improves ball flight and distance' and virtually guarentees selection for the Walker Cup Team at this September's massacre of the Yanks at the Royal County Down, (PBUI)Sadly, the team has been selected already but if some one falls out at the last moment with 'norn iron tummy'I am ,as ever,willing to answer the call.
The image (I borrowed from Flickr) is apparently of a golfer practising his black art at Dunbar harbour. (I hope it is not the Laser Launch Monitor as it looks rather low tech)And this is a toon with three golf courses within three miles.
It doesn't need a rocket science trained golf professional to tell you that given the strange grip, weird posture of the would be harbour blaster that it would be highly surprising if any of the balls reached terra firma. Golf is 97% hope and 3% expectation.
But surely not in this case.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Our break in Norn Iron is nearly completed and tomorrow we are away from 'Where the Mountains of Mourne Sweep down to the Sea' to where Farmer N's new housing complex creeps down to the Fishwick bypass.
So I leave you with an image of the mountains. Next time we will be back will be for the Walker Cup in early September. It will be interesting to see how the World's best amateur golfers cope with the world's toughest course. In particular the hellish drive from the 11th -a 450 yard par 4 which requires a drive of well over 2220 yards to just reach the fairway over a chasm of heather and with only a small pole to guide you-see top image. And in the meanwhie I will have to content my self with Duns (MPBUI)
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Dogged Does it. If not quite
I am afraid this is a successive second post about Golf. But that what being in Norn Iron is all about. And actually I would not have done so except for the curious instance of the dog that didn’t bark at all.
Returning on an empty course (well it was 8am) I hit a longish drive on the 15th-straight towards the top of Slieve Donard but fortunately not quite as far. Looking for it in lightish rough and well clear of the imported Gorse bushes I came upon a little heap of 4 very good balls and one of this new fangled brush tees in a posh plastic case. Who on earth could have lost four balls and a tee within 6 inches of each other?
Then I heard a snuffle. It was Ally the dog seeking Alsatian. He was still some distance away with his master, who was in his wellies searching the lake on the adjoining fairway, a good hundred yards distant. So it must have been yer man or his beast who had found the balls and left them in a little pile with the tee to pick up later. But funnily enough they did not seem at all concerned about a stranger being so close to their pirate’s hoard. And then strangest of all they moved off out of sight living me in possession of the treasure trove. It can’t have been theirs all along.Some one, a golfing benefactor, a Leprecaun perhaps, who had long since gone.
Moral dilemma.What to do? Should I take the lot? ‘Finders Keepers’ is the rule on golf courses even if one deplores the systematic search and rescue industrial approach of Ally and his keeper. But somehow taking all 4 balls, even 4 very good balls, seemed somehow wrong. So I took 2 and the posh brush tee (having lost mine on the previous hole) and moved on leaving the remaining two balls for some other lucky person.
I looked back just as I left the 15th green. Exactly where I had been stood Ally. Even from that distance it was clear he had two balls in his mouth. And he was whining. He also seemed
to be looking for something
‘Why’ asked Watson did the dog not bark at all ?
‘His mouth was full,
Stupid’
Said Holmes.
PS The image is nothing to do with the 15th. It is the drive at the 4th on the Annesley Course (MPBUI). Slieve Donard is a good line but if you reach it you are out of bounds.
Labels: Ball findingAlsatians, Golf, Norn Iron, Royal County Down
