Ha ha Cam, if you get a chance to have a game you may well find your current opinion that it is an idiotic waste of time is reinforced (Lot of golfers think the same after certain rounds)
I did indeed get a chance to have a game. It was at the insistence of a workmate who played regularly and thought it might be something he could "get me into" as an after-work activity on summer evenings.
He borrowed a set of clubs on my behalf, but suggested I buy my own balls (apparently the owner of the set of borrowed clubs didn't like the idea of me playing with his balls). So I bought a pack of 6 balls at the clubhouse and we headed out onto the course. Needless to say I wasn't togged out in tartan plus fours or half of a pair of gloves. I wore normal human clothes instead.
The first hole was quite easy, or so I was told. Fairly short and straight, and was actually do-able as a hole-in-one, as someone far more skilled than me had demonstrated only a couple of weeks before I stepped up to the tee. The only minor hazard was about 50m from the tee, in the form of a small creek that flowed across the fairway to a brackish lagoon behind a nearby beach. It was only a dribble of water but was bordered on each side by a few metres of oozing mud and tall reeds. It's a popular nesting area for several species of water fowl including a plethora of ducks.
Anyway, back to the business at hand. Tee up the first ball, there's a direct line of sight to the pin on the green. It doesn't look very far away. How hard can it be to smack the ball that far? So I hold the stick as shown by the club's chief ball molesting guru, known as the "Professional" (an honorary title I'm sure because the club couldn't afford to pay a bloke to hang around all day). I have a couple of practice swings which "Pro" compliments by saying he's seen worse. So I step up to the ball, wiggle my arse like I'd seen the professionals do on TV, and give it an almighty smack. The stupid ball insults me by bouncing twice before rolling the last couple of meters into the creek.
Next ball was a much better shot, at least it got airborne and covered the 50m to the creek on the full before going splat into the mud.
The remaining 4 balls were variations on the same theme, except one that ended up behind me when I caught it with the back stroke of my practice swing. After retrieving the ball that tried to escape its embarrassing fate by taking off back towards the clubhouse, it too ended up joining its mates in the creek. So at least all 6 of them had each other for company, much to the amusement of the ducks. Before that day, I was unaware that ducks could laugh. The thought crossed my mind that a 12 gauge shotty would have been a better choice of tool for the day's activity rather than of a bag of sticks with knobs on the ends.
The club Pro advised not to bother trying to retrieve the balls as I'd sink up to my knees in the mud and it stinks something awful when disturbed. I momentarily considered buying another pack of balls, but then sanity prevailed. This clearly wasn't my game, and my playing partners were already too far ahead to catch up. So much for sportsmanship.
So I called it quits on my golf career after not even completing one hole, and went back to the clubhouse bar. A much more civilised way to spend the afternoon. I was 3 sheets to the wind by the time my "mates" returned from their game.
That's my entire golfing career in full awful detail.
One day I'll tell you about my foray into tennis. It was similarly unconventional, although I call it a win of sorts because my opponent was rolling about on the ground laughing so hard that he couldn't continue. Surely that's a forfeit in my favour isn't it?
Ball sports evidently aren't my forte.
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To be fair, I think his golf playing antics with his buddies would be about as far away from Cam Smith's play at the majors as mine would be
