A ball in the hand is worth two in the bush ( H.Vardon ).....Cliches

The whole point of leisure time , presumably, is
to relax and chill with your mates. Away from the
office and home you would think that guards would
come down and the sound of laughter would emanate
from the course. No way , Jose ! The male toff finds the
art of communication even more awkward than his lower
class equivalent. Often the whole round is a structured
pattern of cliches. It normally starts with a short chat
with the caddies, to show their Etonian pals that over the
years they have found the common touch , and sometimes
the caddie will be quite an amusing oink.
" I say Caddie.....what.....what....do you think its going to rain
today....? "
Personally I always look to the heavens in a kind of
red indian knowledgeable way and say " Its going to piss
down with a good chance of lightning , Mr. Windebottom
...." thinking if I could predict the weather I wouldnt be
carrying your bag you dick-head.
" Oh do call me R.C........all my pals do ....oh dear ..not
good news from the caddie Rupert ....still press on ...what ? "
And off we go. R.C. , addresses the ball and tops it
but it scurries and bounces towards the fairway....
" Sorry bit of a Sally Gunnell ....ugly but a good runner ...
...what ...! " That particular joke I have heard so many times
it actually makes me feel quite nauseous. Rupert steps up to
the tee , and his practice swing doesnt bode well. It looks like
a one-armed man trying to kill a snake in a phone box. He
wildly lashes at the ball and hits the turf 2 foot in front of the
ball ......it only reaches the ladys tee....
" Crikey bit of a Dawn French....short and fat.....what ..?
Still havent played since yesterday....bit rusty....what...."
You can see the tears welling up in the caddies eyes. He
is dreading four hours of cliches......he prays for rain .
The first hole seems to take forever but R.C. wins with a
12 ( par 4 ) and strides confidently and rather arrogantly
towards the second tee.
" That puts me one up Rupert ...I believe....what are we
playing for ....? Lets go barmy and play for 50 pence corners !"
" Make it a pound....Ill be bound...I just dont care..."
R. C. replies.
Now the second hole on the new course is a Par 3 slightly
uphill with quite a narrow approach . Easy enough you might
think.
" And how many yards do we have here Caddie ? " R. C.
inquires.
" Give it a swipe with that Mr. Windebottom ...that
should do it...."
" Oh well done ...."
R.C. steps up ....takes an enormous lash ...and comes right
underneath the ball and instead of going forward it goes straight
upwards in the air ......
" Where did that go , caddie ? "
" Bit of an elephants arse Mr. Windebottom ...."
" Elephants arse caddie ....? "
" Yes....its high and it stinks ......went up and be careful...its
coming down now...."
" Oh very funny .....oh there it is....well done...."
And so it goes ....every hole is an oppurtunity to display
ones expertise in golf cliches not ones expertise in golf. The
cliche ridden round is so exhausting that this particular piece
will have to be presented in a number of parts. Otherwise
it will run like a sailors cock.Look out for the next instalment
also called cliches......