"Stone the bloody crows, don’t move your bloody knees…”

Above: the new putting green on our (very scenic) golf course.

Friday evening, late, I went putting with some friends from the village.

Although I can play golf I don’t enjoy the game. Mainly I play it because so many people I know have started playing it (good exercise and less physical wear than playing football). I took a course of lessons at Whaddon Golf Centre near Cambridge, then took another course (I was determined not to be shown up), so I know how to stand, how to hold the club, what the swing should look like. But somehow it never really comes together on the course. I have never beaten anyone at a game of golf. I can get round a course competently and can keep up with most people I know, but somehow I lack the killer instinct.

I suppose the real underlying reason (which I would never tell anyone as they would be too offended) is that I find golf boring.

Anyway, half the battle is to get your putting right. “Most people never take putting seriously, which is why their score is so bad” (said to me reproachfully). Which is how I ended up on the putting green at the dog end of a hot day bored out of my mind.

“You’re not standing properly, put your weight on your toes, not on your heels…lock your grip on the putter…don’t move your knees…look! you just moved your knees…I said DON’T move your knees…stone the bloody crows don’t move your bloody knees…”

The heat of the day showed no sign of dissipating. Every part of me seemed covered in perspiration. Never has two hours seemed so long.

“Don’t hit the ball, you only have to stroke it…you want the ball to accelerate so it stays straight…you still have to finish properly, even when you are putting…”