People often tell me that they think that Golf isn't a
sport. They are wrong. It wouldn't have been long ago that I may have agreed with them, letting
my personal feelings and objections get in the way of rational thought. Sport was
once defined to me as requiring physical exertion, which some deny golf involves.
Clearly, they are quite wrong, but that is not wholly my point. My point is that
not only is golf a sport, as is watching golf. The physical exertion I put
myself through watching golf, even with an investment as small as £3 on someone
in contention, is tantamount to running a marathon.
Probably. Not that I would deign
to put myself through something like that.
Early last week I complained about a run of bad luck, which
seemed unfortunately to continue this week. My bubbling double went down the
pan swiftly, and I reinvested with a double on Berardo and Rose, which was
going excellently until Berardo stopped missing those clutch par putts from
thirty feet, and missing the green started to trouble him. The course was
playing 75.3 which was more than three over par, and whilst my pick was only
one over for the day, putting him nearly two and a half shots better than the
field, there were a grand total of five players under par for the day, and two
of them found themselves in the play off. Had my chap been under par for the
day, he would have won the tournament, and level par would have given him entry
in to the play off.
Rose looked good at one point but his putting is not where
it has been, with the claw grip seeming to be a bit less than it’s cracked up
to be, resulting in poor putting on tricky greens. I also had a double and
singles on David Dixon, who unfortunately never really contended, and James
Hahn, at 55/4. This is a spectacular price, and is one of the kinds that come
from those bookies that price everything up in decimal and then oddschecker
converts into a lovely fractional format.
I thought that the Hahn bet was excellent. He had missed 8
cuts coming in to this event and had no real reason to think that he would play
any better here. He had had one good round on Saturday, and nothing about any
course or actual form suggested that he would do well at all, so for all good
reason, there was nothing solid behind backing him. But I thought I should
because why not?
I didn’t watch a huge amount of golf on the Sunday. I
therefore decided to go to bed and watch it in the morning. Frankly, I thought it difficult to see past
Rickie not creaming the win by three or four shots. But even at a best price of
21/20, he really did not appeal, and it’s far too close to pay-day to attempt
some kind of colossal lump to slump. Behemoth sized wins were not for this week
and this does make me cry basically. Tricky Rickie started poorly, and it never
really got any better. He was two over for the day and on a course that
averaged 72.4, that made him one and a half (and change) worse than the field
average, which is frankly unacceptable on a Sunday. Had I backed Fowler, I
would be ranting and raving about how much suicide and murder I was going to
commit and how I hated him and his shoes and the water and everything and I was
going to blow up all the water in the world. But no, since Fowler’s demise in
the Phoenix, I am resisting from backing him, at least until he gets some
confidence back.
Hahn made me work for it though. Watching the golf in the
morning was a revelation to me, however I was forced to not go on my phone, and
have Mrs Golfing Greg delete the notifications in case the winner was announced
on the PGA Tour app. It also meant that I would
not be able to check my account as this would give me the result.
It was only by occasion
that Hahn would find himself in the lead every now and then, and suddenly out
of the lead by the grace of Castro, who was not throwing it away, and Rose,
whose iron play was simply outstanding. Hahn made bogey on the 72nd
hole of regulation play, from position A1 on the fairway. In effect, he duffed
his first putt, the nerves getting the better of him, and then took two more
putts. This put him at level pegging with Castro. Castro would have to make
birdie on 18 to win, par for a play-off, or worse to give my hero the win. I imagine
that it’s relatively clear what I was hoping for. Whilst I like to want
everyone to play well, at that point I was eager to see Castro slice his ball
in to the gallery and be swiftly arrested.
Unfortunately this did not happen, and he made a solid par
to force the play off. My heart went in to over-drive and I could barely take
it. It was at this point that I decided to never ever watch the golf in delay
again, especially when I have a bet live. Whilst 44.25 doesn't represent huge
winnings, if there was more at stake, the option to lay off liability, either
through hedging or actual laying, is not possible when watching post-event.
My thoughts immediately harked back to my play off
disasters. Snedeker lost to Gomez and Fowler lost to Matsuyama, and I dreaded to
think what would happen next. I dreaded what was to come, and my usually pink
skin when somewhat…white. My heart decided to stop being in over-drive and
instead decided to try and just break my ribs. I think it was beating less that
once a minute, but it was beating so hard it was knocking the breath out of my
lungs on one side, and battering the marrow out of my bones on the other,
perhaps for the Grim Reaper to feast on.
I considered just checking the result and ending the
impending feelings of cardiac arrest and death, but rationalised that I would probably
become prematurely miserable and that’s worse than well timed misery which is
easier to process. Maybe. Also I was scared. Yes, scared of losing £3. What I lack
in empathy for the general populace I more than make up for in my own emotional
investment in golf bets. I feel like my life is actually on the line sometimes.
And my heart is almost my favourite one out there. And £44.50 is more than
likely not enough for a new heart, especially not a good one, though I did once
pick up a lamb’s heart for 44p in the reduced section, though somehow I don’t imagine
that would be compatible with my system requirements.
Back to the play-off. Castro gave me a massive respite off
the tee by plunging his ball in to the creek that runs the whole way along the
left side of the 18th. Once again the subversive elements of the
H2NO campaign have been silenced. My heart decided to arrest again when Hahn
stood up to the tee, but he planted one down the middle, which was excellent.
Dropping out of the water on to the steep bank Castro did
not have what might be referred to as a good lie, with the ball well above his
feet, and taking out a wood, swiftly knocked it over the right of the green in
to some unsuspecting (somehow) spectator, whom the commentators initially thought
to be a woman, but turned out to be a bloke. Whilst I have never been hit in
the face with a golf ball, I have been hit in the face with a skateboard. The reason
I was hit in the face with a skateboard is because I was standing in the middle
of a half pipe, and my brother (of all people, and probably on purpose) fell
off his, causing it to fly in to my face. This has taught me a valuable lesson,
which is that if you are near a place in which a skateboard can hit you in the
face, be careful. This kind of logic can be applied to all sorts of
environments, such as golf courses. If you are on a golf course, and you are
near where the balls go (the back of the green), you should be wary of the
potential that a ball might come near you. When I play golf, I am always
especially careful of this, as I have what is known as common sense (which I
know might not come across). However, most other people seem to not have any
common sense, which is why it is necessary to have health and safety
everywhere.
To me, the principle of health and safety is basically to
stop me from doing whatever I want all the time, and prevents actual fun and
common sense. However, to some people, it is to prevent civil liabilities and
potential lawsuits, under the guise of protecting everyone. The crowds at golfer
are usually so close to the players and the balls, especially when they are out
of position, that it seems to be only a matter of time before a nervous golfist
delivers a one hundred and fifty mph golf ball directly in to someone’s brain. That
will cause an outcry, and presumably all the good PR work in the world won’t be
able to recover the situation. I can predict this leading to a health and
safety knee jerk reaction that will result in the players being forced to
loudly express their intentions and any possible pitfalls of any shot, which
may result in an erratic path being taken, and having to wait four hours for
anyone in any of those spots to be moved out of the way. They will also be
forced to make their golf balls wear little high visibility jackets so everyone
can see them. They’ll also have to be much bigger so everyone can see them, and
they’ll also have to wear little life vests in case they go in to the water, so
they float and don't drown (yes I'm still talking about the balls). It will then
also become cruel to the balls to hit them and golf will be banned under the Geneva
Convention.
Alternatively everyone could just dress in those bomb suits
(Explosive Ordnance Disposal suit in real language) in case the ball comes near
them and they get hurt. I am therefore going to invest all of my future
winnings in the best bomb suit tailors in the world so I can watch my stocks
rise like a skyscraper when the inevitable happens.
Anyway, back to the golfery. Castro was over the back for 3,
and Hahn put himself 25 foot away for 2. Profit loomed. The commentators then
decided to try and give me a hearters (again) by suggesting that Castro could
chip in from this position. I suppose it wasn't that bad because I was prepared
for the worst. After what seemed like a lot of faffing, due mainly to Castro’s ball
coming to lie in someone’s loafer. I kid you not, it has bounced off this chap’s
face into someone else’s shoe. Look it up if you don’t believe me. Castro did
then almost knock it in, but couldn't quite muster it.
Hahn then took his third shot. He had two putts from 25 feet
guaranteed for the win. He missed his first by 5 or 6 feet. Castro knocked in
his fifth, for bogey, which was buggering good considering where he was off the
tee. Hahn then stepped up to his putt, engaged testicles, and battered it home.
Sweet glory. I felt as though my blood had turned to honey
(in a good way, not in a clotty kind of way) and a warmth spread through me. James
Hahn has become my new hero and I'm going to have a flag made with his face on
it. Instead of going to work I'm going to sit under the flag and sing songs
about his mythical victory, and the riches it has spread through the world. I might
also have to get a flag pole. How much are flag poles? £85 apparently. And that’s
without the flag. I wonder how much it is to commission a flag. £43.50
apparently. So perhaps I'm a few pounds behind the full flag at the moment,
surely huge financial aid will be coming my way soon, and I can adorn the front
lawn with two flag poles, one consistently flying the Union Jack, and one
flying the golfist whom is in my favour at the time. Also I can burn any flags
of players who upset me. I reckon I need about £200 for the poles and then will
need to consistently win £50 from different golfists in order to have their
faces on the flags. This might seem confusing to the neighbours, but perhaps
then I could just direct them to this blog for an explanation. Perhaps I can
have a third flag commissioned championing this blog and advising confused passer-by’s
to visit it before querying why I'm
flying the Union Jack and seemingly random men. Probably need another £150
then.
This is a cast iron plan and I am sure you all eagerly await news on the progress.
I look forward to being the pride of the neighbourhood, and
even more, I'm looking forward to The Players Championship this weekend. Rickie
Fowler is out to defend, Spieth is out for the first time since Augusta, and
Mcilroy is coming in to some fine form. What a week we are about to have.
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