Hello. Welcome to this week’s edition of Dialled In, which is going to take me a while to write b

ecause I haven’t stopped shivering for about a week. I’m also in a horrible mood. I’ll tell you why.

I went to bed on Saturday excited by the promise of several weather forecasts that we would wake up on Sunday to a luscious white blanket of snow. My infant daughter has never seen snow. How exciting, I told my girlfriend, we get to see her face as she steps into the crunchy abyss for the first time. We get to see her eyes light up as we put the finishing touches to our first snowman built together (followed by the look of confusion as I wrap a Torquay United scarf around its neck). We get to hear the joy in her laugh as we fly down an icy slope on a sled. Well, you know that none of this happened, mainly because I’ve already told you.

Still, if there’s no snow then at least I can get out for 18 holes. I had previously resigned myself to a golf-free weekend. But hang on, what’s this? An email from the golf club saying the course is closed?


And after all that time we spent bleating on about how much we love winter golf. Here we are in the first real dip in temperature and I can’t even get out to have a swing.

So how am I supposed to start writing my latest column while pangs of disappointment still litter my brain? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I shouldn’t have been able to drive the 30-odd miles to the office today due to the conditions. I should be wrapped up on my sofa writing this, desperately pounding away at the keyboard in a bid to get it done and back out in the snow as my daughter persistently asks if I’m done yet.

But no. I’m sitting here, in an office that is nowhere near warming up, having spent an hour and 20 minutes stuck in traffic because people will never learn that when it’s cold you need to be more careful, trying desperately not to let my colleagues aware that I’m in the worst mood.

Anyway enough about me. How are you? I bet you got snow, didn’t you? I know you did, you plastered it all over Facebook. You swines.

Shall we talk about golf? That is, after all, why we are here. I’m going to start with another shout out for Tom Colella. If you don’t know who he is, he is a 60-year-old electrician from Australia who skived off work to play golf. Well, 140 rounds of golf. That’s not a typo. ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY rounds of golf. When he should have been at work. God love him. I chatted about it in the latest episode of The Slam, which you can watch right here.

Someone else who also got a shout out in The Slam was Michelle Wie, who threw some serious shade at the LPGA for their dress code nonsense. My colleague Harriet Shephard wrote all about that and you can read it here.

Age is just a number

Speaking of people I’m in awe of this week. This is Graham Davies…

Graham Davies

He doesn’t look it, but Mr Davies is 87. And he’s just won a club competition at Ashburnham.

EIGHTY SEVEN! (That’s the last time I shout a number, I promise.)

“When I got older I wanted to be competitive,” the pensioner, from Gorseinon in South Wales, told Wales Online. “I’ve always done lots of exercise and my main aim has been to keep fit as long as I can.

“There are not many people playing golf at my age but that does not phase me. I can still go round walking the entire course instead of using the buggies.

“Myself and my two brothers are all still alive, one of them is 90. We were all good sportsmen in our time.”

He added: “When I was younger I played with some old members and I used to think they were an embarrassment.

“I always felt when I got to their age I wanted to be different and I wanted people to appreciate playing with me.”

Not sure thy will appreciate being beaten, Mr Davies. Everyone at NCG Towers salutes you.

Well, I’m in a much better mood now. Most people dream of being that active in their 60s, let alone pushing 90.

Tenuous golf link of the day week year probably ever

As weapons for threatening people go, golf clubs are pretty good, aren’t they? Or bad, depending on which angle you’re coming from. (My brother once hit me in the back with a golf club. Not very hard, but it bloody hurt.)

So I imagine Simon Cowell was pretty scared when he had a 9-iron waved in his face by a frustrated neighbour last week.

The angry club golfer (see what I did there?) was upset because he believes music mogul encourages crime to their West London street.

Simon Cowell screenshot

“He leaves his garage doors open every night – even the police are fed up with him. His security guards don’t shut them till 12 o’clock and that’s a problem for me because he got robbed,” he said. “If you do that they’re not just going to come and take biscuits. He is the one who is causing all the problems – I’m sick of his face.”

You can watch the video on The Sun’s website – I’m not linking to it, I’d rather link to a Donald Trump fansite – but I wouldn’t advise watching it, the angry neighbour slams his club into the pavement and my wrist aches just thinking about it.

Presented without comment

Jeff Winther's best dressed caddie

You want to know more, don’t you? Of course you do! Mark Townsend has the lowdown right here.

And finally

Morgan Hoffman revealed last week that he has been diagnosed with muscular dystrophy.

Incredibly sad news, but he wrote this wonderful piece for The Players’ Tribune.

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