My own alternative 12 days of Christmas

DECK the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la. I love Christmas! Fortunately, I have never lost any of my childlike excitement in the countdown to Christmas, and hopefully, I never will.

It takes me the best part of two weeks to decorate the house not because I want to vie with Blackpool illuminations but also because I am a perfectionist.

It takes me the same amount of time to put just the lights on the main tree as it does for most of you to play 18 holes (ladies that is, not men!), because I try to hide all the wires.

I also enjoy spending lots of time away from the golf course. Winter for me is a time to slump in front of a roaring fire and flick through the skiing brochures.

Im already looking for cheap winter flights and counting the days until I can strap planks on my feet again.

I dont miss golf in the winter at all, and Im not the least bit envious of the hale and hearty contending with balls ricocheting off frozen greens and being pebble-dashed by needles of rain. No, Im quite content to hibernate indoors with one notable exception. I do emerge for Turkey competitions.

I have to admit, its not quite the same these days, as the actual turkey has now been replaced by M&S vouchers, but there used to be something almost Dickensian about winning the Christmas turkey. It was my responsibility to come home with the family Christmas dinner.

Eat your heart out, Bob Cratchit!

When I came home from the club and slapped a 12lb turkey on the kitchen table, I knew Id done my duty.
That was also the romantic, halcyon period when Turkey competitions were still medals, before people decided  they were too hard and wanted Stablefords!

Of course, the best bit about Christmas is the presents. I have to admit, the worst present I ever received was a croquet set  99 per cent of which has still never been used. However, the little plastic flags do still adorn the lawn six years on, as they are my chipping targets! Wondering what novelty golf items will be slipped into my stocking this year, I hope there wont be a golf impact bag. The magazine says that unlike hitting a car tyre or other hard object, the Impact Bag is safe...and will help bring you into a solid assertive impact.

Personally, Ive never felt the need to try to hit a tyre or other hard object repeatedly, and, forgive my scepticism, but I cant help thinking that it is no little coincidence that the same page features an elbow support For all those golfing pains!

In fact, I have discovered a much less traumatic way of getting more length.

Theres an advert for putting the face of your loved one on golf balls.

I think theyve missed a niche here. If they put the face of the instigator of the handicap system on the ball instead, Im sure I could add 30 yards to my drives!

Then, there is the fabulous prospect of the 12 days of Christmas. I dont have much use for lords-a-leaping or swans-a-swimming, so I thought I would devise my own version.

• 12) 12 months of solid medals, since Stablefords are just for wimps and whingers
• 11) The number of last years committee members I would like to put in the stocks for thinking it would be a good idea to adopt full handicap difference in matchplay
• 10) 10&8 is the amount I would like to win the final of the county championships by
• 9) Nine shots over the front nine holes, and then nine shots over the back nine. Thats what the silver division should be restored to, to give it some credence, rather than the highly illogical 20 shots it currently masquerades under
• 8) The number of inches above the knee that shorts should be worn
• 7) The number of days of the week I should be allowed to make totally autocratic, non-negotiable rules at the golf club
• 6) The minimum number of muscles in a stomach pack required by any man wishing to join my totally autocratic golf club
• 5) Actually, I cant find anything wrong with five gold rings
• 4) Fourballs would be banned from ever setting foot on the course again unless, that is, I was to introduce Ken Livingstone-type congestion charges. Now theres an idea!
• 3)  The number of hours, maximum, it should take to play a round of golf, before being taken off and publicly flogged
• 2)  Two is the handicap Id like to get down to next year
• 1)  1 is the fee I would charge to join my handicap system  ie the old one to restore a little festive cheer

Actually, its more perfect than I thought. Due to my 1 subscription charge, I would become a multi-millionaire overnight. Then, I could afford to set up my own autocratically run club with proper rules.

For example, changing shoes in the car park would be encouraged. All nit-picking dress code rules would be abolished in fact, all nit-picking rules full stop would be abolished.

Instead of needing to play three competition rounds before being eligible for the following years major trophies, I would make it compulsory for everyone to have at least five lessons and make a minimum of 10 visits to the practice ground.

Naturally, only the old handicap system would be used, and the only time CONGU would be mentioned is when someone had misspelled the Democratic Republic of.

Now wouldnt that be a perfect Christmas wish list?

Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la...