Feeling in a shopping mood

I thought I'd have a look at Stella McCartney for Adidas. As I expected, everything is beige. Beige is such a hard colour to like, I think - who would ever say their favourite colour was beige? It's a total non-colour, so boring. It's useful, yes, neutral, functional, but it's not loveable. 

Apart from my issues with beigeness, I liked the wind jacket, but feel it ought to be waterproof as well (guessing in the region of £150, so I would want my money's worth).  And I can't help thinking that the 3/4 trousers are a dubious proposition for Autumn/Winter (maybe this is an Autumn collection and there'll be a Winter one along soon?)   

If I happen to be near an Adidas shop I will probably pop in and have a look, but I certainly won't be going out of my way. You can view the collection here (on the US site as the UK site is rubbish and doesn't seem to have any of it on). 

I love these boots though - they've got studs - wonder whether they'd count as soft spikes??

Why I'm an evil witch, but I don't care

I don't actually mind slow play that much. I don't like being held up, and I don't like holding people up, but playing slowly doesn't especially wind me up. My actions today could have been interpreted as being annoyed by slow play, but that wouldn't be quite true.

There's a particular lady who I've played with once or twice who had a stroke a while ago. She's made a great recovery and is back playing golf, so good for her. She isn't as mobile as she was, walks much slower, can't bend down so easily to pick up her ball, and her swing is a bit stiffer. So pretty much everyone is sympathetic, even though being slow isn't usually something that gains you many friends out there on the fairways.

The situation today was that I was in the last group of women, in Lady's Day (I hate that phrase) at the club. And I was in the slow gang, because I was with this particular lady. So far, so whatever. The point is when we were standing on the 4th tee, a two-ball of men was finishing out on the 3rd green. So as we walked up the fairway I mentioned letting them through.

The response was a load of bombastic balderdash, the essence of which, apparently, is that women don't allow men through on Lady's Morning because men aren't allowed out in the middle of a women's competition. It's tough cheese for them. Even though it wasn't even a competition, and we had clearly lost a hole already, and they didn't start in the middle of us but had caught us up, they aren't allowed out in the middle of us. Nope, doesn't make sense to me either. As far as I'm concerned, you lose a hole, you let people through. Whatever the circumstances. Except perhaps a match against another club.

So after a great deal of pompous empty windbagging from this lady about how it was a preposterous suggestion (without any concrete answer about why it wasn't possible) I gave up. If we weren't going to let them through, we were bloody well not going to be a hole behind the group in front.

So I walked her stiff pompous little legs off.

Now that may make me evil, because she's not a fit-and-healthy 30-something. And it may not have taught her a lesson, since she probably blamed it on me not liking the speed of her play, rather than me having a problem with her rudeness to the golfers behind. Anyway, arrogant old biddies don't learn lessons from young upstarts like me.

But it made me feel better, dammit, with the added advantage that I didn't have to talk to her much for the next 14 holes because I was mostly walking 20 yards in front of her.

Image from cinnablythe's Flickr photostream

Practicing what I preach

So the reason can be so self-righteous in my last post is that a few months ago I decided to stop moping around about not improving as much as I would like. In other words, I decided to get pro-active on my ass.

I know! Revolutionary. After all, the reason people like to proclaim proudly that they've never had a lesson in their lives is that we would all like to be natural talents who could drive 250 yards the first time we stood on a range and never knew what it was to three-putt. Who wouldn't like to give the impression that they just were good at the game, with a nice swing and good touch around the greens? I'd be willing to guess most people would like to be people who didn't have to try.

Unfortunately, I was never going to be one of them, so I've had a few lessons. One of the most important lessons was that just having lessons wasn't good enough. Apparently (outrageously) I had to practice as well.

It took me a while to come to terms with this shocking revelation, but I have made a concerted effort to go to the driving range at least once during the week, preferably twice. One of these days I might even finish a bucket of balls. And I generally try to spend 5 minutes on the putting green at the end.

It's square and a bit sad, but I have been trying to play better golf.

I've seen plenty of people who are natural sports people be crap at golf, as well as plenty of people who are naturally crap at golf. Essentially I don't think there's any shame in being crap at golf. But I thought I'd give 'trying' a try – just don't tell anyone.

Photo from macwagen's photostream on Flickr

Chipping Stanley

There's a chap I play with sometimes who is a fair golfer - strikes the ball well, good with a putter - but who simply cannot chip or pitch. In fact, if he has to clear a bunker to make the green, he has been known to go around the bunker with a putter to avoid having to make that pitch. And not for a joke.

I've got quite a lot of sympathy for that. I'm sure everyone has at one time or other had the chip yips (is that a word?). Well I have, anyway. Each time you thin it, or duff it, you have less confidence, and the less confidence you have the more you thin it, or duff it, until you're stuck in chipping hell, where you feel like your playing partners are rolling their eyes and looking at their watches, and the green is the size of your kitchen table and just as likely to hold.

Yep, been there.

So this bloke then - let's call him Stanley - his chip yips mean that his handicap is in the high twenties, when, according to the rest of his game, you'd expect him to be more like in the mid-teens.

So far, so the ordinary story of any golfer. The point that makes this chap's chip yips worth commenting on is not that he's famous throughout the club for being 'most likely to take 6 to get on the green from 6 feet'. It's that he's really quite uncomfortable with his level of golf. He's basically embarrassed that his handicap is in the high 20s. It doesn't help that his girlfriend has a lower handicap. He's one of those people who has never been bad at any sport. He has played at County level for some sports, and ball-and-bat sports in particular were where he excelled. He's one of those annoying people who's a sport natural.

... except in golf.

The problem, then, is that he thinks he ought to be good at golf without really trying, in the same way as he is good at other sports just by turning up.

Chipping Stanley won't have a lesson. That's not unusual in itself - plenty of people get all mystical about the technicalities of their swings but decline the advice of a professional. But Chipping Stanley also won't practice chipping. I've occasionally seen him at the putting green before a game, but he never, ever, goes to the chipping green. He makes all sorts of excuses, professing that practicing doesn't make any difference anyway, and besides the grass around the chipping green is too long, and the green itself has different run from the real greens on the course and blah blah blah.

So this is where I run out of sympathy for him. He has never really tried to fix his chipping.

I don't think people ought to practice. God knows I don't very much. I also don't think that everyone should have lessons. Some people are natural talents, and for others it's just not important. But I don't have a lot of sympathy for someone who sulks when his girlfriend gets cut another two shots, who is embarrassed about his handicap, but isn't prepared to invest 10 or 15 minutes on the chipping green.

I feel his pain but it's entirely self-inflicted.

Photo from Mr Jaded's photostream

Stroke index stalemate

So if the last sentence of my last post wasn't tempting fate, I don't know what was. Today I turned in a net 77. Grr!

On the positive side, I found out that I had been cut for general play by 1. I think hearing that before I went out added to my expectations, though, and doomed me from the beginning.

So my handicap bouncing up and down by one shot over the course of the year has meant there's one specific hole where I sometimes do and sometimes don't get a shot - the thirteenth. This has been bothering me for ages, but the stroke index on 13 is weird. It's not a particularly difficult hole. Not especially long, no water, no bunkers. The sixteenth, on the other hand, is longer, has got both water and bunkers, but has a higher stroke index. In an informal survey this month (I asked some of the people I was sitting with at lunch today) it turns out that everyone agrees with me - the sixteenth is much harder than the thirteenth!

One lady told me that this odd stroke index rating is because of stroke play. Since the course I play is harder at the end (back 9 harder than the front 9, and 15-16-17-18 harder than 10-11-12-13), a match could be over before the higher handicapper has had any of their shots.

On the other hand, no-one actually agrees with the stroke index in the context of our general play. The thing is, no-one is sure how to change it. One theory is that County has to approve the SIs. The more common theory is that we can set it ourselves. I think I'm going to propose to the Committee that we have a look at this issue. What that really means is that the Committee will argue for days about it, probably without reaching any consensus, and most likely nothing will happen at all.

The photo is from last month's committee meeting, via ernop's flickr photostream.

Rain stops play

I skipped my usual weekend golf, although I regretted it afterwards. I was tired, busy, and it was supposed to rain. A lot.

And in the interests of honesty, I have to admit I was also avoiding playing with "what's your handicap" because I'm still annoyed about it.

I regretted it later, because it hardly rained at all. I'm playing well at the moment and I could have pulled off a good medal card. How lame.


Photo from weimieweim's photostream on Flickr

What's your handicap?

"What are you playing off now?"

The correct answer to this question is "what the f*&$ is it to you, %^&*-face?".

Unless the person asking is marking your card and you have neglected to fill in your handicap, there's no excuse for this kind of rudeness. A certain person I play with occasionally, however, never fails to ask, whether or not she's marking my card. Even if we're not playing together. Even if we're not playing in the same competition, but just happen to be standing next to each other at the bar. I don't know why she thinks it's acceptable to just walk up to someone and ask them what their handicap is. I don't ask her her dress size, or "how much do you weigh these days?".

A golfer with manners doesn't need to ask because they don't need to know. How is my handicap relevant to you, unless you're marking my card? It's not. The whole point of handicapping is that my nett or stableford result is entirely equivalent to yours, even if our handicaps are 36 shots away from each other's. "I had a nett 73" gives you enough information, in the same way as "I lost 2lbs this week" tells you what you need to know without divulging the results of my latest Weightwatchers weigh-in.

The only reason someone would ask your handicap is to judge you. "He plays off 8 so he must be good. She plays off 29, she must be shite." In the meantime, we've all played with a single-figure handicapper who's a complete wanker, thinks they're a few practice rounds away from the European Tour, but despite a shaky grasp of the Rules is willing to argue the toss about whether their opponent is allowed to blow their nose during matchplay. Conversely, the 29 handicapper may be ex-Captain, County match referee, and the most encouraging companion to have around 18 holes. Judging someone by their handicap is... unreliable.

That's not to say that it's not tempting to ask sometimes. When someone you know at work turns out to be a golfer, it would be strange not to be curious about what level they play at. Nevertheless I generally try to refrain from asking their handicap, since what I really want to know is how long someone has played for, and how regularly.

Some people are just rude though. When this certain person asked me this week, my "why do you want to know?" wasn't enough, and she persisted until I actually gave her the number. Frankly she could just have looked on the board in the locker room. Next time she asks I'll have to be ready with a "what's your bra size?".

Image from –nathan's photostream on Flickr

An update, so I can pretend there has never been any hiatus...

Things have been moving along in the normal way in the golf club. Lots of petty irritations, as well as a fair few petty people. It's not all bad though - I actually came second in a putting competition, so that really idiotic stance seems to have brought some measure of success.

Not in time for the Club Championship though, where, unlike some clubs, we have both a gross and a net competition. I wasn't displeased with my net 145 over 2 rounds, except that on nearly half of the greens I three-putted and I had 3x four-putts.

So it's obvious that putting is still my big weakness. I have finally given in and started doing a bit of putting practice, whenever I go to the range. This has been moderately successful, although the bar wasn't set very high to start with. My second-place in the putting competition was with 30 putts over 18 holes, which is bloody good putting, if I do say so myself. Unfortunately the success is patchy, and some days those buggers just don't drop. Oh well. Such is golf, apparently. Or it is for me.

Image from jnthnhys' photostream via Flickr

Pensioner fashion

I managed to find some golf gear in the sales that I'm quite pleased with. You know, the kind of stuff I wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen in public in outside of the golf club. It's harder than you might expect. Dress codes usually specify “tops must have collars” and “shorts must be tailored” but the subtext is “must be golf brands” and “clothes I personally approve of” where 'I' is some loony old battleaxe committee member.

How often do you ask clothes advice from someone drawing a pension? Would you be caught dead shopping in the same shop as your granny? God bless grannies everywhere but they generally tend to wear things that are appropriate for women of their age, and you especially don't want to take the advice of anyone who doesn't.

So today I was wearing my new Stella McCartney for Adidas top (pictured) and a pair of Golfino slim capris. I did dither about the Stella top for ages, because although it's a golf top and has a collar, it's not a polo shirt and god knows these people don't like their boundaries challenged. Eventually I decided to go with it, because it is a golf top and it has a collar, and if no-one pushed the envelope a bit women would still be wearing corsets and fainting all over the place.

Predictably, my outfit didn't pass without comment, when I heard a very audible “she's not wearing golf wear” in my direction from an ex-Lady Captain, 'she' not being the cat's mother but in fact yours truly. Fortunately I had predicted the possibility of having to defend my choice of attire and so wasn't entirely unprepared for this onslaught. Still, it's extremely galling having to defend what I wear to anyone at all, let alone some old girl who thinks green-and-navy checked elasticated-waist trousers are appropriate ever, anywhere. Thinking about it now, my irritation is only added to when the argument ended at the fact that my top and trousers were 'golf' brands.

On the other hand, the argument did end in my favour (although who knows about the locker room gossip?) so I'm thinking I'll wear the offending articles as much as possible before trying to decide whether there's something else that falls within the letter of the law but as much as possible outside the spirit of it.

Time moves slowly at Marylebone Cricket Club

I've just found out that there is corruption in the Pavillion at the MCC, that proud bastion of upright Englishness, tradition, handlebar moustches, club ties and cricket – and the rot is in the very highest echelons of that august organisation. It has become obvious that the President, Mike Brearley, is actually a dangerous pinko leftie liberal reactionary who has suggested that the dress code for the Pavillion at Lords be 'relaxed'.

I have to admit that although this has only recently come to my attention this isn't new news (The Telegraph, 10^th December 2007) Still, in the context of a club that only allowed women to join less than 10 years ago it would be almost perverse to be up-to-date with its goings-on. With an 18 year waiting list, a young man will be middle-aged by the time he gets in, so seditious revolutionaries had better be playing the long game when they put their names down.

Before you get over-excited, note that this is just a suggestion by the ex-England Captain Brearley, whose reputation for scruffiness appears to nearly overshadow his cricketing career. Apparently one member of his team wore a t-shirt with a rude slogan on! What a damned poor show! Anyway, he's put the idea out for consultation, and I'm amused by how hilariously controversial the whole thing is. On Middlesex internet message boards (didn't know you could type on a computer with a quill pen) there is serious discussion about the implications of people not wearing their club ties. Like Chicken Licken, some people seem to think the sky might fall down.

The reason this cricket thing caught my eye is that there's an analogy to be drawn with golf, which also insists on 'appropriate attire'. The analogy falls down on examination, however, because how many of us are ever going to get invited to Lords by a member of the MCC? It's never going to affect more than a handful of people in an elite circle at an exclusive private members club, and if they choose to wear that disgusting egg-and-bacon tie that's entirely up to them. Your average cricket fan can buy a ticket and wear what he wants, even to Lords: gorilla costumes, Viking helmets; my husband once sat in the stands in his pants.

The golf dress code, on the other hand, is inflicted on every golfer in England who wants to occasionally get his sticks out and have a sunny round. No option, no opt out. The MCC dress code keeps the riff-raff out of the Pavillion at Lords, but the golf dress code keeps 'the wrong sort' out of the sport entirely. A very poor show indeed.

Photo of the Pavillion at Lords from mailliw on Flickr, and check you aren't infringing the Pavillion dress code here.

The wrong kind of people?

What I like about golf is that, at heart, it's a very inclusive activity. There's room for everybody, and a 36-handicapper can play against a scratch golfer and still have fun. Some people take it very seriously. Others like to have a bit of fun. You can play in competitions and matches if you like them, but you can be an occasional hacker if you want.

We've recently had a few new people join our ladies section. They're all very different kinds of golfers. One has brought her old (low) handicap with her from her old club. I'm predicting that she will not only continue to lower her handicap, but that she will come and kick some arse. I'm hopeful that she will kick some of our better players out of their comfort zones, and she'll certainly make some of them fight hard for their places at the top end of the scoreboard.

Another is new to the game. She took it up recently, hasn't yet got her handicap, hasn't played in a medal, but she's been bitten by the bug. I think she's a fighter too, if I'm any judge, and I think she'll be working on improving her golf. But she seems determined to enjoy her rounds irrespective of her score in the meantime.

A third is an occasional player, who's really in it for the fun of it. I think she likes the fresh air, the chat, the exercise, hitting a few balls, scoring a few points. I doubt that she's in it for the competitions and I'll be surprised if she starts playing in the knockouts or matches. She plays often enough to want a membership, but not so often that membership was a no-brainer.

So as I was saying, I think it's great that golf has something for all three of these women, and I'm really pleased that all three of them have come to our club, because they think they'll find a place for their kind of golf there. I really think they will.

If only certain members would stop discouraging them.

I'm annoyed because they've been deliberately discouraged from participating in certain events, by - of all people - the Lady Captain. For some unfathomable reason the Lady Captain thinks that two of these three new members somehow don't belong in one of our major strokeplay competitions. Guess which ones?

It seems to me that too many people try to model golf after themselves. They think other golfers should behave like themselves, and share their attitude to the game. I think the Lady Captain has a very competitive, very serious attitude to golf, and I think she thinks that people who don't share that attitude should stay out of the big competitions. I believe she wants to keep serious competitions for serious golfers who will take it seriously.

That's one attitude to take. The upshot is that one of them now won't play in any medal competitions. The other didn't bother trying to qualify for the strokeplay major because she knows she's not wanted in it. Both of them have been made to feel unwelcome for no good reason.

You're right, I'm not very happy about this. How could you tell?

Am I being naïve in believing that there's room for everyone in golf?

Photo of graffito of Gary Coleman from Different Strokes (geddit?) from florathexplora on Flickr

No-one wants to play in the rain

I skipped golf this week because of the monsoon-like rain. I wasn't the only one, actually: not a soul went out because it's very hard to swim in golf shoes.

Usually I don't mind playing in a bit of rain. I find it makes for a different challenge, and being a member of a golf club means that I can decide after 9 or 13 holes to pack it in because I haven't paid for 18 holes before I went out. Most of the people at my club tend not to play in anything more than a light mist. On the other hand AC grew up playing golf in Ireland so if he didn't play in the rain, he didn't play.

If you grow up playing golf in Thailand you don't have to worry about it, since if it rains it also lightnings, and most people would choose life-and-limb over golf. So Thongchai Jaidee in his prep for the Scottish Open at Loch Lomond, realising there was a strong chance of inclement weather, has been practicing playing in rain gear - in his native tropical sunshine, presumably to some funny looks. (Story from BBC's 606)

When you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Lots of people don't like playing in wet gear - your swing feels funny, there are annoying swooshy noises when you walk, y0ur pockets are in funny places - it's just uncomfortable enough to put you off, and hard to get used to.

Personally I'm feeling quite smug that I have solved the uncomfortable feeling with better wetgear - I'm currently wearing (not now - when I play) stuff by Cross, which is a woven stretch fabric and so comfortable I wear it when it's not raining as well.

It's a truth universally acknowledged, however, that golf in fine weather is much better.

Photo by Jekkyl on Flickr under the umbrella of the Creative Commons licence

More on the subject of lost balls

I love this story, courtesy of the Beeb, which reports that an occasional golfer who was scoring 7 shots a hole on a corporate golf jolly took a 7-iron to keep the numbers nice and put the ball in for a hole-in-one. He won himself a £15,000 car and then went on to lose 23 balls over the back nine. Perhaps he lost his concentration or something.

Photo from Kapungo's Flickr photostream

On the subject of lost golf balls

The other Saturday I had a net 70 in the competition, with a couple of shockers in there. I was playing well, and I felt like my game was really coming together.

The following round I lost *ahem* golf balls. The round after, another *cough* balls. But at the same time I was hitting some huge, booming drives - longer than I've ever driven before – as long as the best women golfers at my club. My putting has also improved considerably: I'm now carding a good handful of one-putts. It seems I can either 4-point it or fall apart, usually on alternate holes.

Stupid game.

Photo from Chris Seufert's Flickr photostream

Pink Hair

Lots of people have it in for Poulter – if only he'd put as much effort into his game as he does into his clothes, yadda yadda. Me? I like him. He wears his collared shirt and tailored trousers as rudely as possible. Like a schoolboy, he has an air of rebellion without breaking a letter of the rules - practically daring the teachers to tell him off. Hootie is famously rumoured to have done just that, of course, with a warning not to dye his hair for his Masters appearance in 2004. The result was that Hootie looked blustering and impotent and not unlike Basil Fawlty. Its not a big leap to see the similarity between Hootie and the oldies who reminisce about how back in their day there was respect and you could leave your front door unlocked.

Every generation thinks the next one is up to no good, and there's always some mythical golden age when golf was played by gentlemen, and gentlemen didn't go round dyeing their hair or wearing jeans. I don't think the world of golf needs to be turned upside down (put those pitchforks down) but a dash of modern thinking can be no bad thing, surely?

Anyway, the reason for this unseasonal mention of Ian Poulter is that, in a mini-tribute to him, I have dyed my hair pink and purple. I'll report back on whether the Lady Captain has anything to say about it.

(Photo from ericskiff on Flickr, and no that is not me. It's pink but it's not that pink)

A golf course is like porridge

His Lordship has just come back from a weekend in the arms of the big old dames of Scotland, St Andrews, Carnoustie, Kingsbarns. My souvenir was a tin of tees and a pitchmark repair tool – the tin that you get free when you play St Andrews. Lucky me.

Anyway, he and his buddies couldn't agree on which was their favourite course. St Andrews Old Course is The Old Course, and he had goosebumps teeing off on the 17th. But between Carnoustie and Kingsbarns, there was some debate. Carnoustie was really hard - either “a beast” or “the big guy”. According to one point of view, it was a real test of golfing ability. From another point of view, it was almost unfair, since it wouldn't allow you to score well, even if you were hitting good shots. Depending on which side you take, then, Kingsbarns was fair, since it punished you for a bad shot but rewarded good golf, or alternatively it was just not as testing.

On my less-celebrated home course, the same debate continues endlessly in a smaller way, at the moment partly inspired by the state of the rough. There are some who think the rough is too thick and it's too easy to lose your ball. Others (including myself) are of the view that you should really be hitting the ball into the rough (although we all do) and that the whole point of the rough is to be trouble.

One lady I know is considering changing golf clubs, and she told me about one of the clubs she is thinking about. The course is lovely, she says. The rough isn't too thick, there aren't any water hazards... a bit like Goldilocks' porridge, it's just right. On the other hand, one of the other ladies I play with came to our club because her old course wasn't hard enough. It wasn't very long, there were no water hazards...

So the moral of the story is that there's no perfect temperature for porridge. Actually I think there is such a thing as a fair test, although exactly what that is I'm not sure. Not too hot, not too cold... you know. I should take up writing for American sitcoms I'm so good at moralising at the end.

(Totally cute cat photo from Scott MacLeod Liddle on Flickr)

Whether to seek fame (and spend a fortune) or to search for hidden treasure

I went away for a golf weekend with some friends a little while ago, and the negotiations about where we would play weren't as easy as you might think, as we all think about courses in different ways. What kind of course should it be? How do you know if it's going to be any good? They were keen on somewhere well-known, preferably Championship. While I wasn't too fussed about the green fees the big names demand, I didn't mind and so went with the flow.

We settled on a course which was PGA championship approved, and it was a good course, with plenty of water and some difficult decisions, and very well maintained. On the second day, though, we played that club's other course, the non-PGA championship, poor sibling course, and lord, but wasn't that one better? It used the landscape beautifully. There were some great views and vistas, and it felt like the course was really a natural part of the countryside in which it was built, instead of carved out of it as so many courses are. Some very memorable holes, each hole with its own character, and tricky enough to make you think hard before reaching for your club. Poor sibling? More like Cinderella! Without the airs and pomposity of the 'big' course, it was lovely.

The reason we were there was for the big-name big-brother, which wasn't shabby by any means. But the one I really enjoyed and really remember is the hidden treasure further up the hill.

Photo from Bern@t on Flickr

78 yards to the pin

So last weekend, in celebration of the US Open (see previous post) I went to Urban Golf in Soho and played Torrey Pines with some friends. I could blame my below-par performance on the cocktails, or on the unaccustomed clubs, or on the lighting in the booth - or on whatever you like. The upshot is that I played appallingly.

The closest culprit could be the graphics of the simulator – not that they're bad, but they are at best a 2-dimensional representation of a course, where in real life you would use your prrimate monkey-senses and your homo sapiens intelligence to judge the distance to the pin with your eyes. Oh evolution - Darwin would be pleased. In the simulator on the other hand, you're dependent on interpreting the size of the pixel flag or the computer's instructions: 78 yards to the flag; 28 foot putt.

My problem is that I am terrible at interpreting the image on the screen, but even worse at understanding yardages. 23 yards? How far's that then? I really have no clue. My friends started off with helpful advice, like “about as far as that wall” but before long I was just guessing. Still, it was hilarious and I wasn't the only one struggling, so I'm not too worried about it.

This inability to grasp yards as a way of measuring distance is something of a handicap though. The other day I blasted the biggest drive of my life, but I can't tell anyone how far it was, unless they know the course I play. “You know the fairway on the 8th, where it narrows and there's the tree on the left? And you know how the fairway has a kind of shelf? So my ball was like about this far past the top of the hump!”

Honestly, it was a really good drive.

US Open results – Tiger's breathtaking win

Actually I didn't watch any of the US Open. One reason is that I don't have Sky. Another reason is that I don't really care that much about professional golf. In theory it's the same game as I play, and most club golfers I know seem to be glued to the Golf Channel, but sport on TV is just not that interesting. I'm as interested in golf's Majors as in the Grand Prix, the European Cup or Wimbledon, viz., not very. Having said that, the Ryder Cup, the Grand National and the World Cup are quite exciting, but neither would I arrange my weekends in order to view them.

Does that make me weird?

A well-turned ankle what what?

Given ten minutes to think about it I can draw an analogy between golf and pretty much anything. Tennis is an obvious one, especially with the Artois about to start, strawberries in the shops and the smell of Wimbledon in the air). Both sports, with their almost terminally elitist aspects, are based around facilites provided by private members clubs (or occasionally by generous local council provision). Both enjoy a strong sense of history and tradition, which they like to upkeep by enforcing old-fashioned dress requirements rooted in their perceived hey-day in the last century. In tennis, it's the whites (at Queens Club I see that non-white tracksuits are only allowed between October and April, so if it's an unseasonably cold morning in May you're stuffed). In golf it's collars and tailoring.

I went to a 1920s club night last night and while at the time I was too busy drinking cocktails from teacups and doing the Charleston to think about anything very clearly, in the clear hungover light of day I note that the glittering classes, as well as pursuing louche evenings of sartorial elegance also spent decadent days of leisure at tennis, golf and sunbathing. It was a time when sportswear meant tweed suits and flannel shirts for chaps, and gels in skirts allowing their well-turned ankles to be admired.

Some golfing members of my family have been known to turn up at society days in plus fours, tank top and cap et al, although as far as I'm aware, neither managed 18 holes as tweed is famously itchy, especialy in balmy weather. I've even played at an old but not at all exclusive Surrey course just off the A3, where several of the more senior gentlemen were out in plus fours and long socks with not a hint of irony. Personally I think I'll stick with my flapper dress and fingerwaved hair as my homage to the past, as I think those skirts would do my putting stroke no favours in a brisk breeze.

(Photo from striatic's Flickrstream)

Putting new wheels on the old bicycle doesn't make it a racer

My putting has always been the weakest part of my game. While my long game has come along nicely in the past few months, partly due to a club upgrade but mainly thanks to some long overdue lessons, and my chipping has generally been fairly reliable, putting is a let-down.

And if one more person says "drive for show, putt for dough!" I might possibly have to wrap a driver around their necks and shove a putter up their arses.

On the other hand, I also have to admit that I am starting to really feel the truth of that hackneyed old truism, and acknowledge that hitting a good fairway wood does not a good score make.

So it seems that I must at last take action if only to stop my playing partners rolling their eyes behind my head as I miss another 3-footer.

Of course, I'm always better constructing a strategy than executing one, so I've put a certain amount of thought into it and a lot less action.

1) Buy a book.
"Putting Out of Your Mind" by Big Bob Rotella duly purchased, is in a cupboard somewhere in the flat.

2) Read the book.
Yeah let's not get over-excited here. It's on the to-do list.

3) Buy a new putter.
This is the habitual go-to solution of some of the girls I play with. I'm not so much of a subscriber to the idea that new gear makes you a better golfer - proof of this fallacy being that my new putter has been in my bag for months with little perceptible improvement. However it can't be a bad investment considering my old one was part of of a starter set and had as much feel as a lead pipe.

4) Customise.
While I'm at it, I've had the putter shortened to a length appropriate to my height. Apparently the vast majority of women use their putter straight out of the box, but since the average player is a man it's likely to be too long for a lot of women.

5) Put new wheels on the bike.
So I've got a new putting stance. This stance makes me look like an idiot. I really hate it. I also hate that it was taught to me by one of those randoms you sometimes come across who think their advice is a) welcome and b) correct, but it seems to work at the moment, encouraging my stroke along the line as well as a more shoulder-generated action instead of being all arms.

6) Go on the putting green.
Yeah whatever. I'd rather be in the clubhouse with my fried egg sandwich, besides which - how square!? As if.

Maybe if things get desperate. I had three 3-putts on the back nine yesterday which knocked me back from carding 36 points, so let's see if steps 1, 3, 4 and 5 work before we get over-excited and implement steps 2 and 6.

(Photo from TorontoStreet's Flickr stream)

Blind partners: a game of chance, not skill

This week's ladies day was the the first non-qualifier in ages, and we played blind partners for a bit of fun. Blind partners, in case you've never played it, is where you all keep your own cards, but have a partner drawn at random, and the total of both cards is your pair's score. As I say, it's "a bit of fun", but not too much. The ones who weren't playing well had the unpleasantness of thinking they were going to disappoint whoever their blind partner was, with the added suspense of not knowing whether it was going to be someone who had just played a blinder and deserved a prize.

Of course, really it didn't matter. The prize was peanuts, and it's a matter of chance anyway since you have no idea who you're going to get drawn with. But people do worry. It's bad enough playing badly, but it's worse if you've let someone down. Which is why I don't like a lot of team games - foursomes? Yuk.

What I like about golf is that you're not part of a team, and you don't need to beat anyone: you need to beat yourself. Handicapping is such a great system, isn't it? If I have 36 points and someone else has 39, I don't have to feel bad that they've beaten me, because they haven't. They've beaten their own handicap, and I can feel genuinely pleased for them that they have. At the same time it doesn't diminish how well I have played, so I can feel quite chuffed with myself too. Everybody wins.

Maybe I'm too much of a fluffy woo-woo but I don't want to beat anyone.

(Photo belongs to HelenaN on Flickr)

Making sure the wives are getting their husbands' dinners on the table

Some golf clubs seem to operate outside of the normal rules of time, space and humanity. I was reminded of this when my friends joined a club up north, one of those truly 19th century ones where you have to be nominated and seconded by members, you have to be interviewed, have to play a round with the Captain, and at the end of it only get membership if you aren't blackballed by someone who probably hasn't even met you.

These friends knew they wanted to play golf, and for some reason that remains mysterious to me decided they wanted to play there, and they didn't get blackballed. They seem happy enough, so all's well that ends well. Although technically they are members of different clubs, a mens and a ladies, that share the same course. I suppose they don't have mixed competitions. God forbid that the genders should play together!

Unfortunately, this also happened to another friend more local to me. She was a beginner, had swung a club at a driving range once or twice, and thought she might be interested in playing more regularly. She went to her nearest club, a short walk from her house. This particular Home Counties golf club would have required her to play a round with the club pro, have a handicap of less than 25, meet the Lady Captain, fill in an application form detailing her employment, job title and as good as her salary - as well as that of her partner - and for an initial investment of £stupid,000 (subject to being accepted) she could have been privileged to play with some of the snobbiest people in the land.

Unsurprisingly she decided that golf clearly wasn't the game for her and jacked it in, except for the odd trip to the range. Fortunately a pro there suggested another, friendlier, club and that's where I met her. She's been playing for a year, and I'm hoping to see her handicap down in the twenties this summer. I would love it, I would absolutely love it (to paraphrase Kevin Keegan) if she one day plays for us in the county league and thrashes that club to buggery.

This last story I think is apocryphal, but it's shockingly funny. I won't name the golf club in case it turns out to be true. The bad part is that it really could turn out to be true! Tell me you don't deep down partly believe it. This club, let's call it Victorian Old Bastards G.C., doesn't allow women to become members. (I know. Forget shocking, this is barely noteworthy, sadly). However, in a generous gesture the enlightened old gits allow the wives of members to be 'associate members', just like the Carlton Club. Rather sweetly, though, if the husband pops his clogs, the widow is sent their condolences and asked to leave.

Since just last month the Carlton Club at last granted full membership to women, let's hope that Victorian clubs up and down the country wake up and smell the 21st century.

(Images from Markus Merz and freeparking and Ron Layters on Flickr)

Why are women crap at golf? Nancy's 3rd theory.

Nancy Berkley, the expert in women's golf, has been showing us why women's handicaps are so much higher on average than mens' (see previous posts 1 and 2). It's been a fascinating journey of discovery, so let's briefly visit our final stop chez Nancy.

Her third theory to explain the lower average handicap of women against men is that "one-quarter of women golfers play less than two times a year. That segment is probably a drag on the female averages and handicaps."

Unless she can demonstrate that there's not a similar segment of male golfers, then this latest statement of Nancy's still doesn't explain the difference. I know quite a lot of men who golf infrequently. Is the infrequent male golfer not a similar drag on the male averages and handicaps? Again, we have an unsatisfactory result here, as we go round in circles trying to distinguish results from causes.

It is indisputable that there is a big difference in handicaps between the 'average' woman golfer and the average male golfer, and there must be reasons for it. I plan to come back to this subject with other explanations later, and for what it's worth I have my own theory which I will elucidate on some other time.

I'm sorry to disagree with all three of Nancy's theories, because I genuinely think that she's a positive force in the world of golf, so let's finish on a positive note. Nancy says "But who cares about the handicap differential? Most women use their handicaps in compeition [sic] against other women, and then it's a level playing field."

I'd go even further, and say that even in mixed competition it doesn't really matter. The handicap reflects how many shots I can get round in, and to that extent it's the same for men and women. I can play a man with the same handicap as me and have as much chance of winning as he does; but I can also play a scratch golfer man and have an entirely fair game, and that's the brilliant thing about handicapping - that's the brilliant thing about golf: anyone of any level can play against any other person of any other level and have a fair chance of winning.

Handicapping? Love it.

Photo from CaymanGirl's photostream on Flickr

Slow play - the gender divide

Because of the torrential rain during the night there were only a few of us playing in this week's Ladies Day, and we decided to play only as long as the rain held off, which turned out to be 12 holes.

The fairways were soaking and the bunkers were GUR, but that pleased me no end, as I'm going through bunker trouble at the moment. It certainly helped me put the ball on the green from a drop from a fairway bunker - I wouldn't have been able to reach from inside the bunker - which in turn helped me to a respectable 18 points over 9 holes, which is by far the best I've played in ages (what's the opposite of a purple patch? That's what I've been having. For like a year).

When we came in there was a conversation about slow play which really made me chuckle. Everyone was complaining about being held up by the men in front. And predicting being held up by the men in front of us in Saturday's mixed medal. And moaning about always being held up by any men in front, ever. One of the reasons that they came up with is that men are always losing their balls. *snigger*

They have something of a point - there is often slow play by the men in front of the women on Saturdays at my club. Although I don't think it's that much of an issue - on Saturday almost every tee time is full from dawn until lunchtime, so a slower round is inevitable, and usually the men who are holding up the women are being held up by other men. And I happen to know (from a source who will remain anonymous) that the men who are usually in front of the women on a Saturday hate having the women playing up behind them because they know they'll get the evil eye.

It amuses me that women are the ones who are so vocal about slow play, at my club anyway. How is it that it's women who have a reputation for slow play?

The obvious truth of course, is that there is no gender divide when it comes to slow play. There are men in the groups who play on Saturday morning who are guilty of it, and there are women among yesterday's complainers who are also guilty of it, and of an even worse crime, not letting people through when they've lost a hole.

There is a gender divide when it comes to golfing ability - women tend to have higher handicaps (in other words, aren't so good at golf) and so an average round involves more shots, which almost inevitably means a slightly slower round. Kind of tough really, unless you want to keep newbies and high-handicappers out (don't start me - there are plenty of clubs who take this attitude).

So the advice for newbies and high handicappers? As my boyfriend said to me when I was starting out: be as shit as you like, but be shit quickly.

(Photo by FABIOLA MEDEIROS on Flickr)

Hideous golf shoe of the week

Golf shoes are tricky. The shoe that on the one hand qualifies as a good-looking shoe to wear on the course, on the other hand wouldn't qualify off the course as a shoe to take the rubbish out in after it gets dark in case you get spotted by a complete stranger and they were to think you would actually wear something like that in public.

Manufacturers seem therefore to have dismissed the whole 'good-looking golf shoe' problem as too difficult, and appear to have decided to compete to produce shoes so ugly they should be licenced.

The Myjoy previously posted has a special place in the annals of hideous golf shoes, but I believe it has met its match. Don't look if you've just eaten:

Love it? Want it for your golfing granny? Contact Aerogreen here, although sadly it doesn't look like they retail in Europe. Shame.

Why are women crap at golf? Nancy's 2nd theory.

So let's return to Nancy Berkley's theories about why women aren't really very good at golf.

Her second theory is about turf conditions (full text here). Curious? Well get this:

"Two turf conditions are making the courses harder for women. The first is better irrigation which decreases roll. Since most women hit the ball shorter than men, they are penalized on more strokes for lack of roll."

I could be missing something, but I'm a bit sceptical. What I don't understand is this: don't men have less roll as well? It is fair to say though, that we are penalised on more strokes for lack of roll, since we hit more strokes, as we've already established. This is starting to get a bit circular though, since the original question was about why we hit more strokes.

"The second factor is shorter grass on the fairways. Men like shorter grass because it promotes "spin" [but] The shorter grass makes it more likely that women could take a divot, and women don't like taking divots -- it's making a mess."

That's right, we don't like making a mess. We also like to cook. Don't forget laundry, that perennial favourite.

I do agree that women are less likely to take a divot though. In a serendipitous coincidence, I noticed this just a day or two before I read Nancy Berkley's article, when I played in a mixed fourball. One of the three men was particularly agricultural in his swing which is why I noticed it in the first place, but once I paid attention I realised all of them took divots, while my experience is that the women I play with rarely do, especially in dry conditions.

Want to know my theory about why? (I'm going to tell you anyway). Unlike Nancy's 'untidiness' theory, I think it's more to do with having less power in our girly swings. I think that taking a divot slows our already slow clubhead speed, resulting in a punishing loss of distance. On the other hand, a man with his more powerful swing can power right through the divot with a negligible loss of distance, and more chance for a better contact.

I'm open to other theories of course, but the housekeeping theory cuts through no dirty dishes with me.

Stand by for Nancy's 3rd theory.

Image taken from Reza Vaziri's Flickr stream, and I'm loving the tee holding trim on those pockets

Why are women crap at golf? Ask Nancy!

Why are women crap at golf?

It's not a very politically correct question. A bit rude, even. A question to be frowned on, or buried. But come on, everyone thinks it, don't they?

There are theories and experts out there on the interwebs, and I bring you this excerpt from Nancy Berkley, "an expert in women's golf, specifically in attracting and retaining women in the game". Nancy seems like a very interesting woman. Wouldn't it be great if there were more evangelists for womens golf like her? I certainly don't want to diss her, as she has plenty of ideas about making golf a more welcoming place for women.

... but on the subject of why women are crap at golf, I'm finding her theories a bit... sketchy.

She phrases the question about crapness more politely, in terms of average handicaps, which is a much more precise way of describing the issue. The question is "Why are women's handicaps so much higher (average is 12 strokes higher) than men's handicaps?" and I'd really like to know the answer. Let's see what Nancy has to say (you can read the full text here).

One of Nancy's findings is that "The handicap ratings are based on "bogey" golfers. The female bogey (or better) golfer is a much smaller percentage of the universe of women golfers, than male bogey (or better) golfers are of the male golfer universe. The ratings by female bogey golfers don't refect the average skill of women golfers."

Hmm. Notwithstanding the fact that I haven't much clue about what 'handicap ratings' means, surely that's just a restatement of the question? Am I missing something here? Isn't the key question why are female bogey golfers a smaller percentage??

Actually Nancy has other theories to suggest, so this subject is to be continued.

Photo is from dandelionfourteen on Flickr, and yes I did notice that it's a left-handed club that she's holding sort-of right-handedly (well to be precise she's holding it sort-of like someone who's never swung a club before).

Anti-golf tan strategy: The Tan Glove

Tan gloves = great idea.

We-ell, maybe a good-ish idea. Ummm, more like tolerable. Like most people I wear a glove to play golf, and I'm prepared to tolerate what would otherwise be a preposterous idea because I don't like the golf hand tan and that's exactly what this bizarre product is designed to prevent. In my quest to avoid Golfer's Tan it behoves me to explore tan gloves.

I had intended to do a quick google for a few options, maybe pick one or two, briefly mention them here, possibly even buy one and try it out. But as usual, there's practically no hot-weather golf gear available in the UK, so I expect I will end up looking where the Great God Google takes me (i.e. the US). I will probably come back to this subject when I can be arsed (at this moment I can't be bothered to spend hours finding a product I don't dislike only to find that the site won't ship internationally).

But for the time being, the only one I could find in the UK (click on the picture for a linky link):

Ew.

Especially liking the hole for the engagement ring (what is that all about? all women golfers are married and wear big rocks on their left hand??). And I'm not even going to discuss the holes for the exquisitely manicured fingertips.

To be continued.

Maybe.

Things I hate about summer golf

I hate golf tans.

I hate being too hot.

Erm, at the moment I think that's about it.

But I do really hate both of those things. A lot.

Golf tans really ruin your look everywhere other than the golf course. I don't mind one white hand so much as the white feet, which mean you can't wear nice shoes. And I've got my eye on a pair of red patent mid-heeled mary-janes as well as these:

There's also the sleeve marks thing, which mean it's impossible to wear nice clothes. Even if you wear a sleeveless top the marks are still in the wrong place. Nope. Golf tans are a terrible look.

Also, everyone knows about sun damage. I'm in denial about my age, I don't want to get old and I don't want to get wrinkly.

So my anti-golf tan, anti-age, anti-sun strategy is high priority and has several aspects:

- wear sunscreen
- wear trousers, not shorts

- try and find a long-sleeved summer top, if such a thing exists (this could be tricky)
- try and find a tanning glove that's not totally disgusting
- use my magic sun umbrella which not only protects me from UV but also brings the temperature underneath down! Brilliant.

- wear a visor. OK I do anyway, even in winter, but still, it keeps the sun off your face.

- wear more sunscreen

I have to admit that I have failed already, today in fact, by not wearing sunscreen. And now I've got the beginnings of a proper white hand. I shall let that be a warning to me and try harder in future. Starting by remembering the safe place I put the sunscreen.

(Golf tan photo courtesy of y-cart on Flickr.

Shoe photo shamelessly pinched from the irregular choice website <3)

Things I love about summer golf

I love the weather, of course. It's great being out in the sunshine. The sound of the woodpeckers in Home Wood around the first tee, the skylarks giving it large at the fourth, the parakeets shout-shout-shouting down the 15th.

We've also got swans: two pairs and a spare, apparently, although I'm suspicious it might just be the same two wandering around the course trying to confuse people. I did recently have to wait for them to walk majestically slowly across the 9th green into the greenside bunker before we could putt. The baby rabbits, moorhens, coots and egyption geese are like fluffy toys. The trees are thick with leaves and what was scrubby rough a few weeks ago is now "that verdant and enamelled mead" - you might almost deliberately hit your ball in there to have the chance to walk through it.

On the golf side, on the other hand, it's brilliant how much further the ball goes! And how much easier it is walking 18 holes across grass instead of wading through mud. Not having to wipe the mud off your ball to find the logo to line up your putt, not having to wipe your clubs every time you put them back in your bag, being able to feel your fingers!


And of course, summer season clothes are so much more fashionable - we can at last dress for looks, instead of just to stay warm and dry.

So, I'm looking forward to better conditions, better dressing and with a bit of luck better scores!

(Photo courtesy of AmUnivers on Flickr)

Hooray for summer golf!

One week we were playing a seniors vs ladies fixture in rain so wet you could swim across the fairways. The next week it's 25C and it's factor 30 sunscreen and my magic sun umbrella. The trip-over between winter rules and the summer club season happened in a day.

So the rough has sprouted up thicker than a shag-pile carpet, the trees are suddenly thick with leaves (80% air yehright), the fairways are firm and the greens are delicious. Hooray for summer golf!

(Photo courtesy of kuddlyteddybear2004 on Flickr)

Myjoys puke-a-licious

The blogosphere is full of the joys of spring, and the joys of Myjoys - Footjoy's customisable golf shoe, now available online here for your colour-choosing pleasure (delivery in 3-5 weeks).

I've enjoyed having a hoke about on the website because it has allowed me to discover the most hideous shoe known to golf. Maybe even known to man. If you've ever seen an uglier shoe I'd like to know about it.

(People of a weak constitution look away now)

It's a concept that promises so much, but delivers slightly less. It's not really customisation, is it, when there are just three styles and a few base colours? The point actually is that you can choose your saddle colour(s) and there are lots and lots of colours to choose from, so you've got a fair chance of matching up with the clothes you wear.

Of course, being women, we all wear pink, or so golf clothing designers seem to think. But astonishingly Myjoys give us just one solitary shade of pink leather!

Mobiles in the clubhouse

I played a cracking fourball betterball competition at the weekend which my opponent and her husband won by a country mile. Kudos to her two back-to-back birdies. 'Birdie' is a word with which I have a passing acquaintance: I've witnessed several.

Anyway, Birdie Girl is moving house and went to check out her new local golf course. Talk about stupid clubhouse rules, this club's stupid rules extended waaaaay beyond! A guy who answered his phone in the locker room was told to switch his phone off as they're not allowed. When the guy protested he was told in no uncertain terms to switch it off - or leave the club.

Oh puhleeeeese.

(Credit to Leo Reynolds for the photo)

Grounding your club in a bunker...

... is one thing, but grounding your boat? Oh those crazy Scots. 

Visit Aspiring Golfer for the story and image. 

Too young to golf?

I am sometimes embarrassed to admit I'm a golfer. Sorry. I'm too young, too fashionable, too much of a non-conformist.

That's not to say that I'm very young, fashionable or rebellious. But the fact is, golf has an image problem. Golfpunk or no golfpunk, it's really for people who are not in the slightest bit young, fashionable or rebellious.

I have a friend who I think would love golf. His grandad was a golfer, and always wanted my friend to play. My friend does want to play. He enjoys pitch and putt. He likes swinging a club at the range. He's looking forward to reaching his forties, because that's an appropriate age to play golf. He's not prepared to start until then - he's very firm on the matter.

I'm fairly sure whenever he does get started he will regret not starting sooner. Doesn't everyone? (My husband, a single-figure handicapper, started playing at age 7 but sort of wishes he had started when he was 5). But on the other hand everyone knows golf is mainly for old people. Don't get me wrong, it's great if younger people play, and I think everyone involved in golf should be encouraging a younger generation to get stuck in. In fact if it comes to that it's risible that I count as 'young' in this game. But I can't help thinking my friend is kind of right. He's not old enough to play golf.

(Photo thanks to brefe's photostream)

Clubhouse Rules

There are some strange rules in some clubhouses. Some I can kind of understand. Some I really don't get at all. And some just make me cross.

No spikes. That makes sense. They'd make a mess and ruin the carpet, and no-one would like that.

No mobile phones. Hmm, not so sure about that one. I went to a club recently where they have that rule. Quite a snooty club, incidentally. I assume it's because they want to create an oasis of calm, a haven from the pressures of the outside world. Maybe. My club has no rules on this, and it's not a deafening cacophony of mobile ringtones and Dom Joly-esque bellowing. Let's face it, it is quite handy, being able to ring your hapless family member to come and pick you up because you decided to get stuck into the cider three hours ago and now the bar has run out so you want to go home. It's also quite handy being able to ring your golfing partner to ask why, when they tee'd off at 9.28 and the round was probably over by 2pm, they're still not back by 6pm and why are they slurring?

And another thing. Jackets and ties. What is that all about??? How is it that I can go to a £50-a-head restaurant in Mayfair in jeans, but I can't have some prawns marie-rose and chicken-in-sauce without dressing up like it's some kind of interview? Who goes anywhere in a jacket and tie, except work? Some people don't even go to work in a jacket and tie. You tell me how that's not pointless wankiness.

Golf clubs are good at pointless wankiness.

(Photo courtesy of by absoblogginlutely on Flickr)

Red Tees not necessarily red. Or for women.

I don't know a lot about golf.

I just play golf. A lot. Not especially well. Just frequently.
I know enough to know when I don't know and need to ask. The learning curve isn't as steep now as in my first year, but there's still a lot I don't know about golf.

That's ok, I can live with that. That's one of the things I like about golf actually - you're always learning.

However, one of life's certainties is that women play off the red tees. The red tees, which are further forward than the men's yellows, which are further forward than the men's competition whites. Ok, so the colours might vary (I've never seen it, but I don't play a lot of courses) and there might be extra tees (like the 'Tiger' tees, or junior tees), but basically, women play off the reds.

So the discovery that out there in the universe there are places where this isn't the case has come as a bit of a shock. It's a whole different thing out there. I've discovered that in America, women can choose which tees they want to play from. Initially I thought that meant they could choose to play from the men's tees. But further investigation uncovers the fact that men can also choose which tees they want to play from. And that there might be five colours to choose from! Here, take a look at this example. How mental is that??

My information is that there are sometimes indications about which tees are suitable for which handicaps, but not always. So I suppose you just pick from the yardage.

This throws up a whole host of problems to my mind, but if that's the way they run it over there I can only assume it works. Still, I'm happy knowing where I stand, and that's in between the two red pegs.

(Photo courtesy of foxypar4's photostream)