I received a call on Friday evening from a friend I hadn't seen in a long time saying he was in the area and playing golf with a mutual friend the next day. I jumped at the chance to join them.
The next morning, when my alarm went off at 9am, I wasn't so keen. I'd stupidly stayed up until the early hours drinking and putting the world to rights with my flatmates.
I had a decision to make, call my friends and cry off, or call the pro shop and book the tee time. In the past I may have taken the easy way out, called my friends to apologise and slept off the hangover for the rest of the day.
Before I could talk myself out of it I was on the phone to a friendly gentlemen at the pro shop at Farleigh Golf Club in Surrey confirming a tee time for 11.18. Time to call my friends to share the great news and jump on the train.
It turned out that my friends could also have been easily persuaded to stay at home but my early morning commitment to the game inspired them to hop in a cab.
Before I knew it I was on the tee realising that I'd forgotten how to swing the club. I joked about topping it onto the the ladies tee and promptly played out my own prophecy. It was just left of the ladies tee actually. It didn't get much better than that.
I spent the round working backwards through the clubs off the tee, finally settling for a easy 5 iron as it was the only way I could get the ball in the air. My golf was miserable.
Now that I mention it, we were all miserable. Our golf was miserable that is. Tom will probably tell you he putted really well, but even if he did there were very few good shots out there save one that is.
On the 13th Tom had his shoes and socks off a la Van de Velde and produced a moment of magic that would bring a smile to even the most disheveled golfer's face. I've reluctantly attached the video to give him his moment in the spotlight. To be honest I was only videoing it in the hope he'd fall in.(see video)
That was to be the only golfing highlight and after four hours in the brisk November air, we returned to the haven of the 19th hole.
Why am I telling this story? No-one needs to hear my tales of woe on the course. Well, as we sat enjoying a beautiful plate of fish chips and a cold pint after the round we were all in agreement.
We were glad we'd peeled ourselves out of bed and gone to play, we might have played badly but the crisp morning had put a smile on our faces. We'd spent four hours catching up on old times and sharing stories of more recent adventures away from each other; it'd been great fun.
The moral of the story is get up, go and play. It doesn't matter if you play badly, it doesn't matter if you're too tired to concentrate on your game. Golf isn't about that for me, it's about time with friends, time in the fresh air, time well spent.