It was seven years ago that the society last visited Swindon GC. Stalwart members warned of epic drives into the middle of nowhere, of tight tree lined fairways and a victory fro Bruce, we think.
Strangely, after an early start to collect the President, and then a detour to former WHVGS hotspot Knowle to collect a gout free Noz, we arrived really early by trusting Google maps.
Nine members were in for the Skins – joining the first car load were PK, playing off his proper WHV cap of 24, Hollywood, Woolly, Milmore, Boycie and one of Boycies childhood friends – Martin. We don’t yet have a nickname for Martin, who is a member at Stonebridge and off on some cracking sounding Portugal trip at the same time as our Jug. Perhaps we can think of something relating to his job laying pipes, or his pickup truck…Martin claims to be off 20. We’re starting him on 18, his Portuguese host is making him play off 16 — apparently there are some major prizes they don’t want some debubandit scooping.
Another good full English followed and after a brief clarification of the format with the PR – who went for simple as possible, but unresolved skins to be subject to a three hole putt off (at a course where the putting green was closed). Agreeing the tie breaker before the start was very prescient, as it had an influence on the outcome.
Swindon GC is now called The Staffordshire or something like that, and they’re in the middle of rebranding. They’ve also switched the nines, unless we started on 10 all those years ago.
Three three’s teed off into the woods – I was in the first group with my travelling companions – with a combined attendance of over 200 events. Noz started on fire, Birdie and then Par to take the first two skins. The President was finding playing off 20 quite tough, and didn’t win a single skin until I missed a dribbler on 16. As a group, we didn’t halve many holes and I built a solid lead through a very picturesque back nine. This is despite being harangued by yobbish types in youth’s motors – who were on their way to play foot golf next to the fourth.
I was pleased with a front nine that included an eagle putt and a handful of greens in regulation. But as we stood on the first of several winter greens (for shame) news reached us that Hollywood was seven skins thru nine in his group and PK was similarly strong on six. Perhaps Millers has been too distracted by initiating new members in back to back events to put any kind of scores together. He was blaming his putter at four Ashes, and had some form of wager with the haircut who works there. He also had wagers on the egg chasing with his Dad’s neighbour, and possibly anyone he’s ever met. It’s not the same without the ridiculous odds and tatty piece of paper that used to be part of the GambleGibbon process.
The back nine saw more solid golf from me, but the winter greens didn’t help. Chipping in for a Birdie is always fun, and our match was a dead rubber by the sixteenth tee.
The pro recommended one of the tighter drives for the dog when at least a couple of others were more obvious, but the shark hole was not good. An uphill wedge to a blind pin position? Well done to Hollywood for taking Sharks in his first two events – shame he has no idea what the shark is or what it looks like. Boyce took the dog, and was the only winner on the day to receive anything.
The stalwart group reached the 18th green with two skins resting on key putts for Captain and President – who both holed out, meaning we needed a putt off. Brazenly, we did this on the 18th green, sudden death because of that. It still needed three attempts before I rolled a sixty footer to gimme range to take the ‘nearest wins’ and two skins to give me 12, Noz 5 and Baxter 1.
We had to wait a long time, and had missed the chef because of the putt off shenanigans, so were on some pretty good cob action. In the other groups Hollywood and PK cooled down the back nine, so I won the Skins. There were reports of club throwing from PK on the 17 – he sounds like a natural WHV boy.
It is my sad duty to report that the hip flask was not present, nor was the Skins wallet – oh dear Wolverine, we hope Beaver Camp was worth it….
Boycie had worked out some kind of financial padding to make sure cash prizes were available to all the winners of the three balls, and the overall winner, so this minor turned out to be an excellent day out for a few of us. If the winter greens weren’t there, it would have been perfect – Boyce is building a rep as a man with a nose for good events.
It was a good little clubhouse, and there was no need to rush off, so Noz and Dougal got on the Guinness and ciders and watched England open a healthy lead on the Welsh (which almost went as we dropped a slumbering Noz back home at the climax of the match – so the drive was only around 45 minutes – reckon we’ll be heading back to the Staffordshire soon.)
Noob Martin Currier
Spot the person discredorating the society on a closed putting green
