10/09/05 Blairgowrie

I'd been invited to take part in an annual golfing outing up at Blargowrie organised by Colin Crabbie and his mates.
I'd underestimated the time I'd need to get there. Not like me at all really. I screeched into the car park, had the golf shoes on in less than 10 seconds, then had to run carrying my clubs to the first tee where my 3 golfing partners were anxiously waiting for me.
No time for a warm-up. Not even enough time for a practice swing. I jogged onto the tee, swung my driver, and hit probably the best drive I've ever hit in my life.
Unfortunately, this is real life and this fantasy wasn't destined to continue.My 2nd shot was sliced deep into the surrounding forest, and I ended up with a disastrous opening 7. You see, there are no fairy stories in golf. I played like a twat for most of the round, although did get a birdie. Hurray!
I also narrowly avoided getting hit on the back of the head by some lady golfers behind us who understimated their distance capabilities.
It was a shame they missed me, as being stretchered off the course would have eased the torment of being forced to endure my golfing performance at first hand.
Beautiful course though, and it was all very convivial and cheery hanging out with the Crabbie Gang.
They were all going out for a meal in Blairgowrie and getting rat-arsed. I headed back to Edinburgh. I was feeling zonked and needed an early night.