Our Angry Club Golfer is back and he's set his sights on the golf ball retriever brigade
What is it about a discoloured distance ball that sends golfers mad?
The greenkeepers had cleaned out the reeds the previous day at my club and there was a quartet lined up by the pond pulling some rank looking objects out of the algae.
Their golf ball retrievers flicked to and fro like they were fly fishing as ball after ball came out and stacked up on the edge of the water.
No matter that it was a competition, and the course was packed, there was a battered Soft-whatever that needed rescuing.
Look, if I’ve dunked an expensive one into the drink you can be assured that, unless it involves some swimming, I am going to make at least a cursory effort to get it back.
What I’m not going to do, though, is try and find space in my bag for every other spherical object that has been sitting in there since the spring.
I’m not that desperate to avoid forking out for a shiny new sleeve. But there’s a certain type of thrifty player who thrives on being a skinflint.
They’ll tell you how they’ve never bought a ball in their life, while flailing their way to another ton with something that wouldn’t regain its original colour if it was sat in bleach overnight.
If you’ve ever hit a ball that’s been immersed for any length of time you’ll know it’s like striking a rock – no good for your wrists or that precious clubface.
And once it turns that distinctive shade of dirty brown, that’s a sure-fire hint nothing good can come from putting it into play.
So rather than setting up the fishing line and putting down the deckchair for a day’s trawling, why not snare a catch in the shop instead?
The pro will thank you for it, and you’ll avoid the Angry Club Golfer dispensing the kind of splash you certainly won’t enjoy.