We were at a public golf course in Perth. Just the two of us playing off the back nine.

Summer morning. Kangaroos nestled in the thick bush between the holes. Magpies and

kookaburras warbled and laughed in the trees overhead. I was sharing a pleasant 18

holes with Keith an Orderly from a big public hospital. We played occasionally when

work permitted and as in many casual amateur games, a healthy rivalry had

developed. The desire to win had grown disproportionately over time. Though we

never discussed it the winning of such matches had become vastly more important

than the actual honour bestowed (in my mind at least). It was almost like the act of

winning imparted far greater benefits than existed in reality. If one won there was the

feeling of being wiser, more in control of life, more attractive to women, more blessed

in the eyes of God etc. Most casual golfers would know the feeling.


What faced us now was a fairly straight forward par four. A nice wide fairway with

few obstacles to hinder the average hacker. The main difficulty was that the fairway

ran straight for about 200 metres then turned in a tight dogleg to the right. The

options were to negotiate the bend with two short shots or cut across the corner

hoping to reach the fairway over the gum trees.


Keith played safely up the fairway and when my turn came I suppose that also was

my intention. The intention and the reality of golf however rarely coincide. As the ball

left the club it was obvious it had different plans than mine. It angled off at about 45

degrees and headed at great speed for the green. This remember, was well protected

and hidden by a security shield of thick Australian bush and towering gums. Although

the ball was traveling at an admirable speed he chance of it actually reaching the

green was negligible. Apart from the trees the distance to the flag cross country can

only be guessed. Suffice to say even John Daly would have had difficulties with it.


Facing the inevitable I played a second ball. Thankfully this was a bit straighter. Keith

and I wandered up the fairway in search of our balls. He with light heart and with

sprung step. Me with the heavy load of a three off the tee. We each played the hole

in our own particular hacking way until the approach shot to the green. Here both of

us managed to drive through the green. For non golfers this means we had hit too far

and needed to walk across the green and hit the balls back to the flag.


Keith led the way and I followed docilely weighed down by the number of shots it had

taken me to reach this point.


I don't remember even thinking about it or planning it or setting out to manipulate.

But as I followed Keith the opportunity presented it self and almost unconsciously I

grasped it. As we passed the hole with Keith striding out in front I reached into my

pocket and extracted a spare ball. Glancing at it quickly I noted it was a Slazenger

B51 Reaching down I gently lowered it into the hole as we passed. Keith with his back

to me carried on totally unaware of the fabulous golf he was about to find his partner

capable of.


We both played back to the green and I allowed Keith the honour of putting in first.

As he stooped to collect his ball he exclaimed in mild surprise. "There is a ball in the

hole!"

There are fundamentals that life teaches you as you move through it. If you are

smart you soon learn that some policies work really well and others patently don't.

One strategy I have found extremely helpful is to be honest. To be otherwise is to

metaphorically shoot yourself in the foot. The mental scrambling and maneuvering

needed to cover your tracks after fabricating something is decidedly hard work. Just

telling the truth from the start makes life so much easier. Discretion though is the

key. What to tell and how much to tell can be a moot point.


A ball I said? “Is it a B51”?

“Yeah” said Keith with growing incredulity.

“That's mine” I stated with utmost honesty.


Who knows what thoughts flowed through Keith's mind. The initial errant drive, the

fact that the ball had been moving at a huge speed, the possibilities, the odds, the

injustice of golf etc

I collected my ball from him (for after all it was my ball) and headed for the next

fairway.

chrispychru said...

nice story...cheater boy i just walk up,have the hugest f..n swing i got and hope i havent killed anyone

I told him Chrispy. I enjoyed the moment first though.

elbeau said...

chrispychru said...

nice story...cheater boy i just walk up,have the hugest f..n swing i got and hope i havent killed anyone

I told him Chrispy. I enjoyed the moment first though.

Love it elbeau

Woodo said...

Hope you waited til after he bought the first round at the pub to tell him...

Waited til the pub.

9 holes is at least a 6 pack

weiry said...

What would you have done if the little voice within said,, dont tell him.

I probably would have lain awake at three o'clock in the morning regularly over the years thinking, I wish I hadn't done that.

Elbeau, your the new V.J Singh

He with light heart and with

sprung step

Surley not Keith;) theatre orderlies never move that quick! he must be saving it for the course.

Nice trick!!
do you always carry a spare ball in your pocket?

I played in a social round at St Andrews, Yanchep West Australia one year. The prizes

for the winning groups were fairly basic. $100 shared first prize and new golf balls,caps

etc for runners up. Nothing grand really until they announced the prize for last place.

The NAGA prize. To our collective surprise the loser was awarded a set of clubs. In a

daze he headed for the dais to collect his prize where he was handed a brand new

unopened pack of playing cards.