Picture this: you are ready to go, you have all the equipment and very few ideas, and the “Boss” has given you a pass from your home for a limited number of hours (he was told four for one turn but allows five as “you are useless”).
Now all you need are ânewbieâ friends. By that I mean: people you know, trained in modern methods of mental support and guidance, people who care about you and are there for you. Namely, the type who never, ever dreamed of telling you the truth in case it brings back a problem at work that you haven’t yet discussed with your analyst. They tend to be Democrats.
And I thought I had a few: Yarmy, of course, Maple, Trots, and Puddles. To their eternal credit, they took an absolute beginner under their wing and, for at least four holes, no comment was made. Then it startedâ¦ âMy wife goes further than that. – which in the case of Puddles was true. âKick it – it’s easierâ, âHow much did these clubs cost? “,” Get a refund – barely used! And the last “Just pick it up or we’ll be there all day!” “
Apparently everything is forging character.
You learn a lot about people by playing golf with them: their risk appetite, their national characteristics, their ethics, how many hours they are away from work and also how they are with their wives. It’s amazing how this can be gleaned from four or five hours of class – let me clarify …
Take Maple, so named because he thinks he’s the best person to come from Canada (and he might be right). Who would have thought that in such a big country, they build such short courses? He advises big companies on strategy, thank goodness he steers away from finance because even before a hole is played Maple has a safe high of four.
Puddles was a captain of industry, a regional juggernaut in his field. But, the truth is, he played with us to avoid his wife’s regular thumps on the course. It’s in his head now and between cigarettes he constantly mumbles, “What would she do here?” It is sad to have witnessed the slow disappearance of a large regional. Trots struggles with his lifestyle choices. He could have identified himself as Welsh, he had ancestors, but he chose to be English. Now something like this can and has had an effect. His Napoleon syndrome is not helping. He’s bitter when it comes to sports and has gotten angry with himself over the years – to the point that in a violent explosion he left with my ball while in his mind I was taking too much. time to play the hole. Soon after, he decided in all meaningful ways to leave the group and try to improve on his own. He’s now playing Els and his scores seem to have improved, but the sense of joy he had playing with us is surely lost.
In the end, despite Yarmy’s best efforts, Maple having medical issues, Puddles leaving the country, and Trots being happier to play with himself, and myself having learned all I could to progress in my golf, I had to look for new fairways …
NB: no friendship has been harmed – to date – in the narration of these stories