Six Simple Birthday Golf Wishes

Today’s my birthday.

Yes, I’m playing golf. If you can’t play golf on your birthday then when can you play? It should be an automatic commandment for any lovers of this stick and ball game:

"Thou Shalt Play Golf on Thy Birthday."

Make it golf commandment number one. Number two should read:

"Thou Shalt Play Golf on Any Day Ending in a Y."

We can make the rest up as we go along. It should be fun, but I think number two has us covered.

I’ve reached an age where I don’t really need birthday presents, albeit I won’t turn any away. I’ve pretty much got everything I want and need: a loving wife, great children, brilliant dog, nice house, lots of friends, and I’m relatively healthy.

I wish I could say the same thing for my golf. Considering how long I’ve been playing this game, I should be making it much easier for myself to get around a golf course than it currently is. The weight of expectation doesn’t just crush professional golfers: we hackers suffer from it too.

That joy of walking pleasant green fields chasing a wee white ball would be so much more joyous if that bloody wee orb would go where it’s meant to go occasionally.

I know that only too well. The game is currently crushing my expectations, not to mention destroying my very soul. So here are a few birthday golf wishes I hope I get today, simple things that will hopefully help me enjoy this game better than I currently am.

Don’t think I’m seeking the sort of golf that would make a major champion proud. Right now, I’d probably take the sort of golf that would make the late Maurice Flitcroft proud!

Yes, it’s reached that stage.

Six Simple Birthday Golf Wishes

Two good golf shots in a row. That would be an acceptable start. Played a few days ago and I didn’t do that. Hit some great drives followed by the sort of shot that would sicken a beginner let along someone who’s been playing this game for over 30 years.
To hit a green with a wedge from 71 yards or 83 yards. I failed in both instances last time out. Seriously, how can I call myself a golfer when I can’t hit a green from inside 85 yards?
To stand over a tee shot and not think: “Where is the ball going to go this time?”
To address a chip or a pitch shot and think, “let’s get this close to the flag” rather than “please don’t screw this up!”
To hit more good shots than bad or ugly ones. I won’t give you the score on that front from the previous round. Suffice it to say, it was no contest for the Good, the Bad and The Ugly. Those latter two players won hands down.
To walk off the course and feel as if I’ve played somewhere, anywhere, near my handicap.

Wish me luck. I feel a wee visit to best friend and Berkshire professional Paul Anderson may be on the agenda. Not sure why? He’s given me all the lessons I need. I can even follow them on occasion, only to morph into Mr Flitcroft more and more.

P.S. Keep an eye on E-Bay: there may be a nice set of golf clubs for sale soon. Sweet spots very much intact.

#JustSaying: “Golf is a fickle game and must be wooed to be won.” Willie Park Snr