The Road to Alwoodley – Week 8: And relax
Preparing for the Brabazon Trophy: Week 2
It is Masters week, and that means that even I barely care about this blog, so thank you for getting this far. For your and my sanity I have resisted the temptation to call it a Masters Special.
This week I have played four rounds of golf, spent three hours practising, and four hours in the gym in the name of improving my golf. I am feeling sick about the lack of time I have been able to spend on the range and am in a constant state of turmoil about how I can maximise the available daylight between now and June 30.
The problem is that I have so many demands on my time, that if I am practising or playing golf badly I hate myself for even trying and think I should be working or at home with my family, but if I am at home with my family or working I think I should be practising. So the only time I am peace is when I am playing golf well and to do that I have to practice, but if I do too much of that I feel guilty…
This does not sound sane does it? Lets move on.
Since last week’s blog I have had no fewer than four offers from people to caddie and two personal compliments. One was the same person, but still. I am not sure I want a caddie.
Here is how the week pans out:
Saturday April 6
Days until the first round: 53
Very bad from a prep point of view. Hit myself in the face with a rope in the gym and spent the afternoon in somewhere called Daffodil Valley, which is not even a care home. But it does include a tree you can get inside:
Sunday April 7
My team at work are off to The Grove for some golf and to watch the FA Cup semi-final. I pick my colleague Matthew up at 5am and are on the range by 7.55 which I am hoping he thinks is normal.
The Grove is in typically mint condition, it is flat calm and we are playing off the front tees. There is no reason at all not to shoot something in the low 60s. I am thrilled with something in the low 70s , 2nd place and my money back in the sweep.
The remainder of Sunday afternoon is spent at Wembley celebrating.
Monday April 8
Another bad day for Brabazon Trophy prep and my self esteem in general. Have to cancel a golf lesson and gym visit. Dark times.
Tuesday April 9
My first W. Rick Hartley, off 8, is slayed 2&1 in the handicap knockout. A result made all the more remarkable as I lost my opening tee shot, knifed it OB on the 2nd and arrived on the 3rd tee 2-down and typing a withdrawal message to England Golf’s championship committee.
Wednesday April 10
Make a last minute decision to play in the midweek medal. I have to play some card and pencil golf. Alwoodley’s greens chair Jonathan Taylor is my partner. JT is an obsessive, he puts so much effort in to improve his golf I often wonder if he actually enjoys it.
I play beautifully, bite my lip throughout about our early-season sandy greens, and wonder what Jonathan means when he asks me on the 15th tee if, given all the effort I put in, I still enjoy my golf.
I hit the ball 73 times, and spend the next 48 hours waiting for HowDidIDo to tell me if my totally unrequired double on 17 has cost me .1 or not.
Spend the evening at Old Trafford to watch Manchester United lose to Barcelona. See Dave McCarthy there. He has caddied for me and was asking if my short game had improved. Make a mental note that people perceive I have a weak short game and spend the whole match imaging myself worrying about that over my next chip shot.
Thursday April 11
It is the first round of the handicap pairs knockout today. After our run to the final last year, my business partner and BFF Dan Murphy and I are are looking forward to summer-long assault.
A 2&1 defeat is something of a disappointment. As was personally failing to improve our team’s score on any hole.
In better news, Dan said: “Your golf reminded me a bit of Rory McIlroy.” Which I took to mean an incredibly impressive display of ball striking and not a skittish, weird performance from a desperate man at an event he has been looking forward to for months.
Engineer an argument with my wife so I can sulk in the kitchen and watch the Masters on TV. Fall asleep at the table before the live coverage starts.
Friday April 12
The CSS was 72 and I am saved the agony of .1!
My week, weekend, and everything I stand for is saved.
It has been an up and down week, a 2nd, a W, an acceptable return to card and pencil golf, and an understandable defeat to a pair of sandbaggers with a limited partner.
I feel this week has exposed my fragile confidence. Almost hourly I change mind from thinking that it is all going to be all right, I might even make the cut. Then something will happen, like losing a hole or making a bogey, and I will be on the verge of tears and panicking about shooting 100 in round 1.
Think I had better call Karl. He has surprisingly big arms.
Missed week 1 of my preparation for the Brabazon Trophy? It’s on the next page…
Tom Irwin
Tom is a lifetime golfer, now over 30 years playing the game. 2023 marks 10 years in golf publishing and he is still holding down a + handicap at Alwoodley in Leeds. He has played over 600 golf courses, and has been a member of at least four including his first love Louth, in Lincolnshire. Tom likes unbranded clothing, natural fibres, and pencil bags. Seacroft in Lincolnshire is where it starts and ends.
