Originally posted by CAMiller
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The day started badly when I was evicted from my home. I only realised when the skip hire company arrived and started lifting my home in the air. Luckily I jumped out and bunked off down the street ripping my shirt as I leapt out.
No money so robbed the offy again and pernod in hand (it’s all I could rob before the little girl behind the counter started shouting at me) I went to the clubhouse to get my bats for the tournament.
Unusually there was a band on. Quite unusual eclectic mix, that seemed to indicate that the band had absorb a multitude of world cultures.
“Hi everyone, that song was about the time that I was in Malaysia, before going to Paraguay, Cuba and Alaska. I then absorbed some tunes on my travels to Kuala Lumpa, Indonesia and short venture into Space”
They launched into some quite upbeat bossanova punk before the singer slammed his ukulele into the Marshall stacks. “My name’s John2” he yelled “And we’ve been the Champagne Socialists. Goodnight!”.
Champagne Socialists? Not really sure what the name means. But I bought a tee shirt.
And on we go with the match. I’d finished the pernod and had bought a nice bottle of Bells to keep my pecker up during the match. And off we go, big slam with the fat bat and – oh sh1t, straight into a bugg@r (0g 1y).
“Oh haaaa ha ha ha haaaa. Wa ha ha ha ha haaaa. Wot a ****aaaaaaa” a shrill voice mocked from up a nearby tree. I ignored Howdy and prepared my trump card: my new bat – what Clinically Insane Sid in Spoons called an ‘Iron’. Having purchased it from him in exchange for a quick blowie in the lavs, I lined up the Iron and hacked away at the ball. Nothing. I hacked away again, finding it really difficult to get purchase on the ball whilst slicing away with the Iron on my knees. Again and again, the ball staying resolutely put in the sand. Eventually I gave in and threw the Iron to one side. Maybe Morphy Richards just don’t make very good golfle gear…
Ah well **** it. I picked the ball up and hurled it out of the bugg@r. What do I care – this is all a stream of p1ss anyway. I swig and few fingers of Bells and take stock of the next shot. I’m still on the Fair Lay, some way from the grassy green thing with flag (0g 3y) so fall back on my trusty slanty bat and hack away. That’s more like it, up up and away landing on the green grassy thing with flag and only the distance of the collective Rotherham United forward line from the 78-79 season (3g 1y). So I can see a couple of possible shots to choose from but again, choose Bells and haughtily kick the ball which rolls happily into the hole in ground (5g). Another Parp. I am the Parp specialist. Come and see me if you need a Parp. Parp, parp, everywhere a f*cking parp parp.
I call out towards a thick, empty, meaningless void.
“Yes?” said Grist.
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My two starting words seem to have come into their own at last.
Like yesterday (and like most of you today) I set off with a fine drive down the centre of the fairway and this time landed well on the green about twenty feet in front of the hole. (1g - first letter - and 2ys)
Unlike yesterday I had a straightforward lie and could see the hole - but like yesterday I sank it on the second shot for ANOTHER EAGLE!
I cannot believe my luck...
Raging was very quiet yesterday. Hope he's managed to clear the bottles out of the "bat carrier" and feels a little more rested...
(Ah, I see he's replied in the time it took me to type. Clearly still on the boozy rampage...Morphy-Richards
)
Last edited by CTMilller; 22-11-2022, 06:55 PM.
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Haha pup, you're morphing into Jimmy LalloxOriginally posted by ragingpup View PostThe day started badly when I was evicted from my home. I only realised when the skip hire company arrived and started lifting my home in the air. Luckily I jumped out and bunked off down the street ripping my shirt as I leapt out.
No money so robbed the offy again and pernod in hand (it’s all I could rob before the little girl behind the counter started shouting at me) I went to the clubhouse to get my bats for the tournament.
Unusually there was a band on. Quite unusual eclectic mix, that seemed to indicate that the band had absorb a multitude of world cultures.
“Hi everyone, that song was about the time that I was in Malaysia, before going to Paraguay, Cuba and Alaska. I then absorbed some tunes on my travels to Kuala Lumpa, Indonesia and short venture into Space”
They launched into some quite upbeat bossanova punk before the singer slammed his ukulele into the Marshall stacks. “My name’s John2” he yelled “And we’ve been the Champagne Socialists. Goodnight!”.
Champagne Socialists? Not really sure what the name means. But I bought a tee shirt.
And on we go with the match. I’d finished the pernod and had bought a nice bottle of Bells to keep my pecker up during the match. And off we go, big slam with the fat bat and – oh sh1t, straight into a bugg@r (0g 1y).
“Oh haaaa ha ha ha haaaa. Wa ha ha ha ha haaaa. Wot a ****aaaaaaa” a shrill voice mocked from up a nearby tree. I ignored Howdy and prepared my trump card: my new bat – what Clinically Insane Sid in Spoons called an ‘Iron’. Having purchased it from him in exchange for a quick blowie in the lavs, I lined up the Iron and hacked away at the ball. Nothing. I hacked away again, finding it really difficult to get purchase on the ball whilst slicing away with the Iron on my knees. Again and again, the ball staying resolutely put in the sand. Eventually I gave in and threw the Iron to one side. Maybe Morphy Richards just don’t make very good golfle gear…
Ah well **** it. I picked the ball up and hurled it out of the bugg@r. What do I care – this is all a stream of p1ss anyway. I swig and few fingers of Bells and take stock of the next shot. I’m still on the Fair Lay, some way from the grassy green thing with flag (0g 3y) so fall back on my trusty slanty bat and hack away. That’s more like it, up up and away landing on the green grassy thing with flag and only the distance of the collective Rotherham United forward line from the 78-79 season (3g 1y). So I can see a couple of possible shots to choose from but again, choose Bells and haughtily kick the ball which rolls happily into the hole in ground (5g). Another Parp. I am the Parp specialist. Come and see me if you need a Parp. Parp, parp, everywhere a f*cking parp parp.
I call out towards a thick, empty, meaningless void.
“Yes?” said Grist.
😂 UTM
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Another birdie 3 for me today (23rd Nov)
Nice drive off from the tee a little to the left of the fairway and around 110 yds from the green. (2y)
Picked up the Morphy Richard's iron that pup discarded the night before for my next shot, and shouted to my wife that she should be using this, but she just gave me the finger followed by a few expletives, but she's never really forgiven me for that time I went out golfing with my mates and she had to phone me on the course to tell me I was a father.
Anyway, using pups iron I hit a beauty that landed within a foot of the hole (3g)
I just had to be careful as there was a really obvious shot plus another not so obvious one, but went with the obvious and rolled it in (5g)
2y
3g
5g
UTM
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Hole 12
Fairway slopes downhill from left to right.
Trick is to aim for the tree close to the green on the LHS of the fairway so that the ball rolls down onto the green.
OK that's the trick but topped it, went down hill into the rough on RHS 2y
Recovery shot not any better, still in the RHS rough but at least closer to the pin 1g, 1y
Chipped out, landed halfway up the banking at side of green, rolled back down hill 3g
Finally got it onto green but left a tricky 6ft putt 3g
Stared long and hard, weighing up options. Surely not, I thought. Went for it straight in 5g
A disappointing (and I suppose ironic) Bogie 5
8 over for the round
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My good fortune continues as I toggle between my two starting words.
Shocking start to this hole. Teeing off I shanked the ball about 45 degrees from the centre line and straight into the rough. Fortunately it went a fair distance and the fairway is wide so I wasn't deep into the undergrowth. (No letters)
Second shot was a miraculous recovery. I had sight of the green and despite the vegetation I managed to get an almighty thwack on the ball and had it onto the green and within striking distance of the hole (4y)
Not a simple shot since there were so many directions the ball could veer to but I chose my line and my six foot putt was always going in.
Birdie 3 - together with a few others today. (Particularly impressed by Ronners who apparently achieved it using a Morphy Richards iron discarded by Raging. How do you do that!?)Last edited by CTMilller; 23-11-2022, 05:31 PM.
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