1st round Club Champs qualifying. Out with a good friend, DM, and a couple of non-geezers - one of them JT, a player I had in my junior team for a few years when I ran that section of the golf club. He's put on a few pounds in the years since, he's also put on a wife, a kid, and a full time job, but he can still play. Shot scratch 71 for nett 70, and a couple of nasty lipouts in there too.
DM ... where to start? Playing steady par golf until #6, he's on the green in 2. I come up just short and chip on, lying 3. Mark my ball on the green - it's not mine. We were side by side on the fairway and DM played the wrong ball; I never checked mine, just assumed DM had played the correct one. Swap balls, back down the fairway, wedge on and putt out, we're walking off with a 6 each.
In the rush to catch up (the group behind were hitting to the green as we were walking back!) we galloped (poetic licence in play here) up a steep path to #7 tee. I crashed mine up the middle, DM hit way right and played a provisional, which he parred as we couldn't find his 1st ball. Another 6 so a simple mistake has cost him 4 shots ... but he came back in 39 (par 34) and a nett 67.
Me? I'm an idiot. #5 birdie (and money to come for a 2), wrong ball on #6 cost me a shot or two, birdie on par 4 #11, topped tee shot on #12 put me under some trees. It was dark in there but doesn't totally explain how I managed to play the WRONG BALL again (it was a Titleist with a shamrock stamp same as mine, but a 3 instead of a 2). Walked off with a 6. #13, had to lay up 2nd shot. 9i to the green, that when I went to put into my bag, its slot was occupied. What the ..? Oh, I've played a 6i by mistake. Through the green but I almost pitched in for par. Par/bogey my way home with a few good putts (putting was pretty good all day).
Add it all up, 85 for a nett 71, only 1 over par. Probably the strangest "decent" round I've ever played, and it could have - should have - been so much better. I'm going to empty my bag tomorrow and re-mark all my golf balls with something unique, like the blood of the first person to ask me "WTF happened on Saturday?".
