I played a few yesterday. It was touch and go, really - it’s been a busy week, so early Friday morning was the only way I was going to get in a second loop, for various reasons.
It’s been so dry recently, not a typical British start to the year, but I (unusually) glanced at the forecast, and, as I dashed from the front door to the car, a street lamp lighting my way, I called back in to the assembled school run troops that BBC weather had suggested light rain this morning. Despite this, I failed to pick up the golf umbrella right next to the door, or to wear or even take a waterproof.
The stars were still twinkling in the dark sky, with not a cloud in sight, for now, and by the time I arrived on the first tee, it seemed to be a nice morning, as the light started to emerge behind me. As usual, I played quickly, a dozen other things to pack into this day, and while I knew my decision to get some holes in early put pressure on those other constituents, it was my precious golfing window before the weekend, and it would set up my mood for the other stuff.
I had a pile of excuses not to play, but we can listen to such excuses all day long and end up not doing anything, and recent golf has always brought a return on investment, in terms of my ongoing mood for the hours and days following each outing, so I let the excuses rumble on unanswered inside my head, and played anyway.
There were dogs everywhere yesterday, their walkers obviously paying more attention to the forecast than I, judging by the expensive wellies and waxed coats everywhere. And by the time I hit from the ninth tee, it was obvious who had more sense, as it started to spit.
As a child, on the pitch & putt, I always loved playing in the rain, for it cleared the holes of all the other players, and I was lucky enough to have decent waterproofs, which meant that, with a wedge and a couple of balls, I could carry on for hours, inventing and playing cross country holes, and in those blessed times, a hundred Opens and Masters and much more besides were played out between my ears and under that Welsh rain - the stuff that gets you really wet - while the rest of the world looked out the window, perhaps waiting for the internet to be invented.
The initial light rain gathered pace on the back nine, until standing on the seventeenth tee, the sky ahead was suddenly dark, foreboding. I was pretty wet by then, and the temperature seemed to have dropped, too, but the thing was I’d been hitting the ball well, trying out some new, simple swing thoughts, and a different putter, and it would take almost as long to walk in from here as it would to play, so I smashed another one down the fairway, and carried on.
The dark cloud I’d been eyeing emptied suddenly and enthusiastically as I walked, and as another dog ran happily across my path, its owners - safely beneath large umbrellas as they sloshed and squelched across the instant puddles of the footpath - called across “I bet you’re glad you’ve nearly finished?” The normal thing to do would be to agree, shrug our collective shoulders at the weather that this island community seems obsessed by, and move on, but for some reason, I’d been having so much fun despite the weather that a different answer came out.
“Not me, I’m like the dog”, I said, pointing at the spaniel whose joyous face told of his delight in what was quickly turning into a hailstorm around us. “Rain or shine”, I said, and they smiled and walked on, probably assuming I had a screw loose. Perhaps they’re right, and without doubt, it would have been easier out there yesterday if I’d bothered to reach for the umbrella or a coat. Instead, I climbed back into the car a few minutes later drenched from head to toe, and with my fingers burning from the cold.
Driving home with all the heaters blaring, and the windscreen misting from the mass of wet clothing I had on, I could only smile. For I’d not listened to the excuses, not bailed out at the prospect of some rain or the dip in the temperature. No, I’d carried on regardless, got soaked through, and was still grinning, from ear to ear. For out there amidst the heather and the pines, between the tees and the rapidly filling holes, I’d found some form - the flushed irons and long putts that will keep me going, until the next time.
Rain or shine, rain or shine.
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