Glamorganshire Golf Club

The first week of my new game plan has not been an outstanding success but it has been far from a disaster. I'll even go so far as to say I'm encouraged.

Since the plan requires a dramatic change to an optimistic approach that has served me for 30 largely fruitless years, I shouldn't expect rapid improvement.

Instead of my carefree, full-blooded lunges at the ball I am intent on developing a dull, robotic style that cuts the risk of wayward shots and aims only for a modest advance down the middle.

But it will be a slow job curbing my natural instinct for a thrash and I am not finding it easy to get the cavalier out of the system. I understand that Oliver Cromwell once had the same trouble.

I start the backswing with the clear resolve of delivering a smooth, slowly accelerating clubface to the back of the ball. But when I get to the top I am apt to be possessed by an urge to batter the bloody daylights out of it.

That wasn't the only problem I encountered when I gave the new plan its first outing at Minehead and West Somerset Golf Club last week.

I couldn't have had a better start. I was playing with James, mine host at the pub I frequent on Exmoor, and Matt, a young man just taking up the game.

We were joined on the first tee by Alec, who had wandered curiously out of the clubhouse to witness the transformation I'd been banging on about in the bar the previous night.

Any hopes he had for mockery were dashed when my slow, rhythmic drive sailed straight and true for 210 yards. I couldn't believe it. Plans never work as quick as that.

And, true to form, mine didn't thereafter. I scored three points on the first and was then beset with problems that I'd never met before, including scudding the ball left off the heel of the club a dozen times.

It didn't help that Matt, the rookie who has hardly played the game, was hitting the ball like a world-beater. While we were busy advising him where to stand, whose turn it was to play and how the Stableford system works, he was blistering his way to 19 points in six holes.

He couldn't keep it up and finished with 32 points but he is going to be an excellent player. I, meanwhile, finished with a humiliating 12 points and my confidence in ruins.

So it took some courage to turn up at The Glamorganshire Club on Wednesday to join the 20 or so gnarled veterans who play in a weekly swindle called the Chips.

It's a pound in the kitty and the winner buys the chips plus bread and butter. So the losers at least get a snack while they moan into their beer.

The Chips are short on sympathy for hackers down on their luck and they made me play off 24 despite the fact that my club handicap is 28.

But, helped by encouragement from my partners Colin and Mitch, I put the misery of Minehead behind me and after 13 holes was leading the trio with 23 points.

Colin surged ahead to win but my 28 points was a distinct improvement, especially as I suffered more than a few mishaps due entirely to adjusting to my new swing.

I duly put a pound in the kitty, paid Colin a pound and gave Mitch 20p for a birdie. So my chips cost me £2.20 but you have to pay to learn, and I ate them with the satisfaction of a man on a mission that might get somewhere.

Peter Corrigan (a. k. a. “The Hacker"), Chief Snake (1982 – 1987)

(Republished from the “Independent on Sunday”, Sunday, 14 February 2010, with grateful thanks)

After much heated debate, a competition held at our club last Saturday has been declared null and void and there are many aggrieved golfers as a result – none more so than the poor souls who would have won it.

There's nothing golfers like more than a good argument but, usually, they involve rule disputes out on the course.

When the players return to the clubhouse they consult the rule book and seek opinions, and within no time the entire place is caught up in the row.

On Thursday night in the bar we had a long and liquid bicker over a local rule covering a plugged ball in the rough and I wish I could remember how it ended.

But the quarrel that has the whole club buzzing concerned last Saturday's Texas scramble and a decision taken by a club official. A Texas scramble is a complicated competition for teams of four and is very popular as a change from the normal tournaments. It is also very competitive.

Our saturated course had been closed for most of the week but it had been ruled playable as long as no caddie cars or trolleys were allowed.

Caddie cars have been banned for months but refusing the use of trolleys is far more contentious because it is debatable whether their wide wheels do much damage.

There's a steep hill in the middle of our course that has distinct cardiac possibilities, and having to carry a bag around 18 holes is not popular. You wouldn't catch Tiger Woods doing it.

But rules are rules and when the players arrived, those who rely on trolleys had to start jettisoning clubs, clothing and equipment from their bag.

Bob, who is 85, had to have a wholesale clear-out and still came back knackered. Another player went out carrying five loose clubs under his arm and only one ball.

By lunchtime the early starters returned and their opinion was that conditions weren't bad and there had been no need to ban trolleys.

So a club official who was about to go out erased the "no trolleys" sign from the starting board. Since he always carries his bag it was not a selfish decision, but it meant the last five groups could use trolleys if they wished.

The reaction of those trudging in wearily to the sight of teams happily trundling their trolleys up the first was not pleasant.

When the match captain got to hear of it he immediately declared the competition void. There then ensued a full and frank exchange of views on whether he was right that lasted over the weekend.

On Monday, the match and handicap committee, having consulted the Golf Union of Wales, met with great solemnity and declared that all golfers in competitions must be allowed to play in "equitable conditions".

The cancellation was bad news for Sam and his team, who played without trolleys and came back with the winning score. They would have won £60 between them.

Perhaps significantly, the five teams who used trolleys finished in the top 10 scores.

Also sad were those who scored a two on certain holes. They would have won balls in the sweep run by the pro.

He wasn't happy either. He had to give back the £170 he had collected. The gloom was pretty general but at least it took our minds off England beating Wales.

(Republished from the “ Independent on Sunday”, Sunday, 14 February 2010, with grateful thanks)

No golfers in the world are braver or more hardy than those who contest the thousands of club winter leagues throughout these islands.

Swathed in layers of moth-eaten sweaters over old and crusted long-johns, they tackle the courses in weather into which few other groups of sportsmen would venture in such numbers. But even these courageous souls have been defeated by this winter.

After the disruption caused first by the floods of November and then the freeze-up of December/January – and Met men say there's more to come – clubs throughout the country are fighting to keep the leagues, which are vital to their bar takings, on track.

Courses in some of the more stricken areas have been out of play for two or three months. Happily, most were back in action last Sunday when the second half of our league got off to its delayed start.

Although it was a bitterly cold morning, the way more than 100 swarmed eagerly on to the course, you'd think they were in Barbados.

That's what a long lay-off can do for a man's appetite for the game and judging by some shock results, the better players were slower into their stride than the hackers.

One of the best aspects of winter league golf is that it tends to pair up the good with the not-so-good players. Formats differ from club to club. In ours – called the Snakes and Ladders – we play foursomes with a minimum combined handicap of 20, which requires the best players to find partners among the high handicappers.

But there's at least one club where they don't even get a choice of who they are playing with. Regular Hacker reader Andrew Frosdick, who plays at the Silkstone club near Barnsley, writes in with a very erudite account of their intriguing format in which new pairs are drawn every Sunday.

Called the Top Dog, their winter Sunday competition involves a weekly random draw in which four names are drawn at a time. The lowest handicapper of the four is paired with the highest, leaving the two middle ones to form the other partnership.

"They play better ball match play with each player from the winning side earning points towards their individual league standing," writes Andrew, who plays off 17 but who describes himself as a hacker at heart. "It can be frustrating for the low handicapper but positively terrifying for the hacker." During the winter, a hacker can play with a series of much better golfers but he does bring with him a high allocation of shots that could come in useful.

"The high burden of expectation will often prove too much for the lesser player and it will be left to his partner to grind out a result with few, if any, words spoken between them. But one decisive contribution, holing a long putt or scrambling a half, can turn the most abject display into a match-winning performance. So it is often the case that a high handicapped player can remain in the final fight for the honours," adds Andrew.

Unlike leagues in which you are obliged to play every week, you play as often as you like. As long as you are registered you can miss the worst weather and turn up in March very rusty.

Many a contender for the Top Dog title has foundered when paired with someone playing his first round for months and having a stinker.

Andrew, by the way, occupies a "modest mid-table position" and lives in hope. We wish him well.

“The Hacker"  (a. k. a. Peter Corrigan, Chief Snake (1982 – 1987)

(Republished from the “ Independent on Sunday”, Sunday, 31 January 2010, with grateful thanks)

Such was the ruthless weather, it was a lucky golfer in these islands who managed to get in a game over Christmas.

So I count myself fortunate that I played on Boxing Day and, but for a stomach bug, I would have played on the following day, too.

This turned out to be a blessing, for there's no doubt there was a humiliating fate awaiting me had I been able to play in the Egg Cup.

Although we dodged most of the nasty stuff on the south Wales coast, our course was frozen solid in the days leading up to Christmas Day. But it thawed enough to allow us to play our Boxing Day cross-country event.

Had this been a normal competition they wouldn't have opened the course as several greens were like ice-rinks but, as the name suggests, the cross-country is in no way normal.

The nine holes, some of them 800 or 900 yards long, go from the first to the fourth, the fourth to the fifth, the sixth to the seventh and so on.

Mostly, they traverse the fairways so that trees, hedges and ditches are in front of you instead of down the sides.

The format is greensome foursomes, in which both of you drive, you select the better one and then play alternately.

It benefits the big hitters but the man playing the second shot usually faces the bigger problems. It helps, therefore, if the better player takes the second shot.

However, that requires the other player to hit a good enough drive. I did win this event five years ago but then I was playing with a two-handicapper and was driving well enough for him to take a few second shots.

This time, unfortunately, my tee-shots were neither long nor straight enough and I was taking my partner Bob's drive with erratic results.

But it didn't matter, as it turned out. Usually we are finished before noon but this year there were over 100 of us and play was much slower.

Bob's wife was cooking lunch for 13 and he had to pick up some elderly relatives so, with two holes to play, he had to go.

I didn't get the feeling his departure was a tragedy for him. But I enjoyed the outing and we had a curry waiting back at the clubhouse.

It wasn't the curry, but I was stricken with a stomach upset that kept me off food and drink for 24 hours and which meant I had to withdraw from the Egg Cup. This is a competition organised annually by Arwyn to celebrate his birthday. As an ex-bank manager it's the only way he can get people to help him celebrate.

I regret having to pull out but he had 48 taking part and he won it himself with 41 points. But the best part, for him, was that his son-in-law, Killian, won the booby prize with 24 points.

Killian, who plays off 19 at the Donabate Golf Club near Dublin, came over with the intention of winning the trophy. Instead, he received a gift which Arwyn had received as a present and was happy to unload. It was a naff mug filled with chocolate golf balls. At the presentation Arwyn scoffed: "This is a mug for a mug who thought he was chocolate."

Had I played, I was likely to have scored fewer points than Killian and if he said that about his son-in-law, what would he have said about me?

Peter Corrigan (a. k. a. “The Hacker"), Chief Snake (1982 – 1987)

(Republished from the “ Independent on Sunday”, Sunday, 3 January 2010, with grateful thanks)

I have had worse Christmas gifts but never one as hurtful. It was a letter from the Match and Handicap Committee informing me that after the annual review of my performances my handicap has been raised to 28.

Some might think that by giving me an extra shot they are doing me a favour, making it easier for me by helping me out when I play against players on lower handicaps.

But at the moment it feels more of a burden than a gift. There is no higher handicap; 28 is as far as you can go into the depths of the doomed.

That's it; the end of the line. An old buffer hits the buffers.

I had hoped to keep it quiet for a while but at the winter league dinner last week my humiliation was publicly announced by the Chief Snake and, to the glee of all present, he advised me to have breast implants and join the Ladies Section where, of course, they are allowed to have handicaps up to 36. Hackers never get used to the scorn. Stoicism is central to the dogged courage we show by even turning up at the course to expose our golfing frailties, but the mockery still wounds.

The journey to this ignominy has been slow and painful. Twenty years ago I was off a handicap of 19 which is little to be proud of but I had been playing for less than 10 years and was at least moving in the right direction.

Then I was appointed golf correspondent and stagnation set in. Paradoxically, I spent most of my time on golf courses around the world but rarely had time to play. And when I did find more time, I developed the chipping yips. I just couldn't get the clubface through the ball smoothly. I would either jerk it or miss the ball altogether.

Far better players than me have suffered from it, professionals even, and although I've managed to some extent to purge myself of the problem, it has left a sad legacy on my wildly inconsistent game.

Every now and then my golf bursts into a purple patch that amazes my friends and me. Just as quickly it collapses.

I spent so much time watching the best players in the world you'd think some of it would have rubbed off. Many were even kind enough to give me tips that have yet to work.

I've often said that the secret of golfing success is not so much a good swing as how many shots you can get. I can't get any more.

As this column has been proving over the last 10 years or so, I do try to make light of my troubles and find the bright spots among the gloom.

I am not alone. There are millions of hackers around the world and one of the great virtues of golf is that you don't have to play well to get value out of it.

But you should never cease trying to improve and I am encouraged that my forlorn attempts to do so have been a comfort to some of those who are similarly afflicted.

As I was saying in the bar the other night, I must think positively about being a 28 handicapper and convince myself that now I've reached rock bottom the only way is up.

Someone replied, rather cruelly I thought: "Some might say the only way is out."

Taunts like that will only drive me into 2010 with firmer resolve.

Peter Corrigan (a. k. a. “The Hacker"), Chief Snake (1982 – 1987)

(Republished from the “Independent on Sunday”, Sunday 27 December 2009, with grateful thanks)

Winter is the happiest time for hackers. If the course is closed, as many have been over the past few weeks, you can't make a fool of yourself; if it's open you can blame the wind or the rain for your shortcomings. More importantly, they don't play medals from November to March so you are spared that ritual humiliation of failing to break 100.

And there's fun to be had whether it is in the winter league, where mud is a great leveller, or in one of those weird and wonderful formats designed to cheer the coldest day. They've been playing one at Hinksey Heights in Oxfordshire which I've never heard of before. It's called A Kick, A Throw and A Mulligan, and the Royal & Ancient would certainly not approve.

The first two illegalities are self-explanatory. A mulligan, which I believe originated in America, is retaking a bad shot without penalty.

It is played as a Stableford competition for teams of three and each player is allowed a kick, a throw and a mulligan on both the front and back nines.

There are no restrictions. You can kick the ball out of the rough – or kick a putt if you so wish. You can throw the ball out of a bunker or back into bounds or even out of a water hazard if you can find it. The mulligan just lets you replay a rubbish shot. There's another twist to the game. The scores on each hole are not added up, they are placed alongside each other in descending order.

If one player scores three points, the next gets two and the third, one, the score on that hole is 321. Blobs don't count so if the poor mutt putting for the one point had missed, the team score would have been 32 not 321. No shortage of pressure there then. Russel, who wrote to tell me about the game, says a score approaching 5,000 points won in the end.

One thing they learned was how hard it is to kick a ball when it is lying on the ground. Countless kicked putts from less than a foot were missed – two from around four inches.

I know a few golfers whose adeptness at kicking a golf ball is long established but I can't imagine why you would kick a short putt.

Russel writes: "Not only did we come in tired from the round of golf, we were knackered from having to think tactically as when was the most profitable time to take the kicks, throws and mulligans."

But the game proved so popular they are going to play it in one of their turkey trots before Christmas.

Another new slant to golf featured in Sue Montgomery's Hacker column last Sunday. This one has a practical side in that it has proved beneficial to the games of many golfers.

Called GolfMission, it consists simply of a set of cards each outlining six different tasks to be accomplished during the round. One task could be to take no more than six putts on three nominated holes, or stay out of bunkers on three holes or hit three successive fairways.

By giving you something else to focus on other than the normal demands of a round, the tasks are said to help develop concentration and thereby improve your scoring.

(Republished from the Independent on Sunday Sunday, 6 December 2009, with grateful thanks)

If you were in charge of 100 men in a Roman legion you were called a centurion. In our club they call you a centurion if you've been responsible for 100 shots or more in a monthly medal.

Same name but two utterly different descriptions – one a proud and fearless warrior and the other a quivering wretch of a failure.

But, call us what you will, we soldier on and last week was our day or, at least, part of it was. The Centurion Cup was devised specifically as a consolation event to those who fail to break 100 in at least one monthly medal during the season.

Some scoff at it as a competition for incompetents or, worse, a tournament for tossers. Sadly, snobbishness in golf is not confined to the pink-gin brigade. Players who regard themselves as an elite take a delight in mocking the afflicted. But there are more of us than might be thought.

Last year, 150 failed to break the ton at least once and that was 60 per cent of those who played regularly in the 10 medals.

This year the failures totalled 127 but there was a rise in the number of no-returns, which is a refuge for those who would prefer to rip up their cards than have to face the disgrace of becoming a centurion.

The Centurion Cup is staged between the two rounds of the club's version of the Ryder Cup. This highly competitive 36-hole event matches Wales against the Rest of the World.

Selection is based on performances in the medals with the top 14 chosen automatically and topped up to 18 with four wildcards each.

At the dinner the previous evening the players were presented with their sponsored team shirts and, this being the 10th year of the event, I said a few words, as I had been the Welsh captain, non-playing of course, in the first year.

I pointed out that my motivational powers had resulted in the biggest ever Welsh victory but I had never been asked again.

There was a stark lack of sympathy for this outrage but plenty of derision for the fact that I had been the worst centurion the previous year with a score of 122.

Since the best and the worst scorer in the Centurion Cup each get a bottle of scotch, I was even accused of deliberately playing badly. Fools, do they think that it is easy to score 122?

A large number of hangovers turned up at the first tee early the following morning and after the nine Ryder Cup games had teed off the centurions trudged along behind.

It has been suggested that on our way around the course we should replace divots, repair pitch marks and rake the bunkers ready for the afternoon session but we ignore such insults.

We are too intent on taking advantage of this last opportunity to make amends for our disastrous year and Reg, an 18-handicapper, did so in style with a nett 65.

Alas, 25 out of 64 entrants failed to break 100 again and are fast-tracked through to next year's centurions. I was among them and at one time I was the leading loser in the clubhouse with 112. But my chances of another bottle of Scotch were dashed when Stuart came in with a 124.

Birds once rare in urban south Wales may be growing in numbers due to global warming, according to a new guide.

“Birding in Glamorgan” says Dartford warblers, little egrets and choughs seem to be thriving in warmer weather.

So, look around you when you are golfing at The Glamorganshire – you may make a rare bird sighting.

Broadcaster Iolo Williams says the area is a "birdwatcher's dream."

"The first thing that struck me about the old county of Glamorgan was the incredible variety of different habitats contained within its boundaries," he says in the foreword.

"From the rocky shores and seabirds of the Gower peninsula to the green parks of Cardiff where all three species of woodpecker live alongside Dippers and Cormorants, to the high moorland of the southern Beacons with their Skylarks, Ring Ouzel and Merlin. It is a birdwatcher's dream".

Daniel Jenkins-Jones of the Glamorgan Bird Club tells us more:

The fortunes of bird populations in Glamorgan, like the rest of the UK, are constantly changing.

Some species are becoming increasingly scarce, but there are also some new exciting arrivals who have only recently colonised the area.

Britain's rarest crow, the Chough, bred in the county in 2006 for the first time in over 150 years and can now be regularly seen along parts of the Heritage Coast.

Once extremely rare in south Wales, both species are now doing well in Glamorgan as our warmer weather helps them move north from their traditional southerly strongholds.

The book is aimed at everyone who enjoys birds - from the casual observer and beginner to the expert.

Authors/Editors Alan Rosney and Richard Smith have produced a book which includes 53 site guides of Glamorgan's best birdwatching sites.

Much of the information was provided by local birders who have written accounts of the areas they visit regularly and know intimately.

This means that the book contains invaluable information not only about popular nature reserves, but also lesser known 'local patches' which are equally precious in terms of their birdlife.

Birding in Glamorgan will be launched on 18 October between 10am and 1pm at Kenfig National Nature Reserve Centre where you will also be able to enjoy guided bird walks around the reserve and a demonstration of bird-ringing.

Our biennial visit to Wallasey Golf Club produced its usual results -- two riotous nights and a good hiding on the course.

The only slight difference was that I came very close to a rare victory but that was mainly due to my partner having a nasty accident in the bath.

Wallasey and The Glamorganshire have been exchanging annual visits since we discovered a mutual connection with the legendary Dr Frank Stableford, one of golf’s greatest benefactors. His points system, played by grateful golfers all over the world, was developed in the early 1930s at Wallasey. But when writing the history of the Glamorganshire club I found a newspaper cutting which revealed that Dr Frank first tried his system at our course when he was a member in 1898. He then went off to serve as an army surgeon in the Boer War and World War 1 before moving to Merseyside and refining the system that spread worldwide.

Wallasey are rightly the home of Stableford but we are proud of our connection and when we staged a centenary celebration of his 1898 experiment Wallasey sent two teams to take part. They didn’t leave our club till dawn by which time we had agreed to honour the good doctor with an annual get-together at which his memory is rigorously toasted. Dr Frank drove a yellow Rolls Royce and always wore a bow-tie. It is the bow-tie trophy, cast in bronze, we play for.

On the morning of the match, Mike, with whom I was sharing a room and was to play with, slipped in the bath while showering and landed on his back with a shuddering crash. It was alleged that he was boozed but he certainly wasn’t. Someone else said he’d been eating in the shower and slipped on a sandwich but it was down purely to the treachery of the bath surface and, him being 17 stone, it wasn’t easy getting him out. Thankfully, there was no lasting damage but he was in such discomfort there was no way he could play.

Wallasey immediately set about finding a volunteer willing to play for us, and more importantly, with me. Brian, who was having a kick about with his son on a local park, bravely answered the SOS.

We were playing Eddie and Tony and when Brian birdied the first to put us one up things looked promising. Brian plays off 11 as does Eddie while Tony, who is their greens chairman, is off 18 and we had a great game. I managed to halve a few holes but Brian, who warmed to being a temporary Welshman, led the battle and ensured that the banter was as enjoyable as the contest. We were all square coming to the 18th which is one of my favourite golf holes not least because you can see the bar from the tee. When Brian and I both found the fairway with our drives and our opponents hit the rough a famous victory loomed. But we both cocked up our second shots and eventually Tony sank an eight-footer to win the hole and the game.

Old hackers everywhere are still creaking with pride in the reflected glory of Tom Watson’s triumph at Turnberry last weekend. I know he didn’t win but let’s not bother with trifling details.

The 2009 Open will be remembered as his and his alone. No offence to Stewart Cink but if Tom, at the age of 59, hadn’t stepped into the role as sensation machine once Tiger Woods had missed the cut it would have been a pretty hum-drum affair.

It ranks as one of the mightiest sporting efforts and, inevitably, has drawn golf’s critics out of the undergrowth. This proves it’s an old man’s game, they gloat.

An old man’s game? They don’t know the half of it. If Watson was a member of our club he’d almost be in the junior section.

Certainly, he would be comfortably under the average age and wouldn’t yet qualify for the veterans section.

We have nine members over 90 at least one of whom plays twice a week.

The membership profile at most clubs is top heavy in the wrinkly department and they would probably struggle financially otherwise, particularly in the bar-takings column.

In fact, many clubs have had to reduce or cancel the generous discount they used to give the over-65s because there are far more of them than the 30 and 40-year-olds with young families and mortgages who struggle to pay the annual subscriptions.

Tom also provided another reason why aging golfers are flourishing . Countless artificial hips would have been twitching in time to the one Tom had fitted an astounding nine months ago.

If it wasn’t for the skill of the hip and knee replacement surgeons our courses wouldn’t be anything like as busy and Tom is a joint or two behind many old golfers.

At our club Eirian has paid five visits to the operating table and has received three hips (one a replacement of a replacement) and two knees and still plays a mean game off 20. His wallet contains the address of a scrap dealer next to his organ donor consent card.

The assistance of medical science is part of the reason that old golfers are staying active longer. And even when the legs go, the golf buggy will carry you on for years.

Tom, of course, has the advantage of having someone else carry his clubs for him but what really separates him from his contemporaries is that he is a golfing wonder.

If the vast majority of ancient hackers were confronted with the Ailsa course from The Open tees they would have to give up the game forthwith.

It would impossible to tackle those carries or weave a way through that fearsome rough without losing a wheelbarrow full of balls.

Can he do it again? He’ll continue to do well on the Seniors tour but, alas, Turnberry is the one major course that he finds ideal and even he will have packed up before it The Open returns there.

You may by chance encounter a strapping, if follicly challenged, figure striding purposefully down the fairways, wearing a golf sweater sporting the twinned flags of Wales and France, and the logo “The Glamorganshire Golf Club Tour de France”, underlined by three gold stars. Or you may observe him holding court in The Henry Howell Men’s Bar proudly wearing the three star pullover.

In either case, do NOT, I repeat NOT, ask him about the three gold stars, unless that is you don’t mind a visit to the A & E Department.

The background is as follows: for some years now, members of my regular, informal golfing group, the CHIPS, here at The Glamorganshire Golf Club in Penarth, near to Cardiff, have been enjoying an annual week’s golf tour in France. The competition to be the leading Stableford points scorer over the week is always hotly contested. The twin flag sweater is the official tour jersey.

The gentleman referred to above (shall we call him “Nixxy”, to preserve his true identity), up until this year, had been the overall tour winner for three years in a row. “Nixxy”, unbeknown to the other tourists, decided to add three gold stars beneath the logo on his own sweater to denote this achievement. For some weeks before this year’s tour he could be seen around the Club unashamedly flaunting his three-star pullover.

The first day of this year’s tour went well although, in retrospect, it may have seemed strange that only “Nixxy” wore his tour jersey. It was only after golf on the second day that all of the tourists donned their tour outfits. Imagine “Nixxy”’s surprise (and, no doubt, delight) when he noticed that every other person’s tour logo was underlined with, not three, but five stars!

Play fast, swing slow.

Sandy Parr

* “Sic Itur Ad Astra”. Latin motto: “Thus we go to the stars"

So, Colin Montgomerie has been named Europe's captain for the 2010 Ryder Cup at Celtic Manor (just down the road from us here at The Glamorganshire in Penarth), beating off competition from Jose Maria Olazabal, Sandy Lyle and Wales’ own Ian Woosnam to succeed Nick Faldo. Do you think he is a good choice?

Monty’s Ryder Cup pedigree is up there with the very best and he had become a talisman for the European team playing in eight consecutive Ryder Cups, not losing any of his eight singles matches. He has experience of captaincy, having led the GB&I side at the Seve Trophy on four occasions, his team winning three of those matches. The players greatly appreciated his captaincy skills, and he seems to be a popular choice with them.

But, Montgomerie has been known to have the odd tantrum, and he has a love-hate relationship with spectators, particularly Americans (they call him Mrs Doubtfire). He can also be very short with the golfing press. He has already made his first gaffe when he announced that José María Olazábal is to be his vice-captain without, apparently, having cleared it with Olazábal first. He has stated that he wants “to put a smile back on faces”, but too often as a player he has stomped off the course with a face like thunder. Does he have what it takes to unite a team? Would not Ian Woosnam be a better captain in Wales?

Let us know what you think.

Nearly all of my golfing pals at my home club, The Glamorganshire Golf Club in Penarth, in Wales, prefer to play with the Titleist Pro V1 golf ball. Me, I can play the same rubbish with a cheap ball as I can with an expensive ball!

Now, the big news in the golfing world is that Pro V1's may be taken off sale, in the US at least. Apparently the ball was infringing some copyright laws.

In December 2007, a jury ruled that Acushnet (manufacturers of Titleist, FootJoy and Cobra golf equipment) had infringed on multiple Callaway patents with the Pro V1 ball. After that decision, Callaway Golf (who had actually inherited the patents from Spalding) filed a motion seeking to bring a halt to the production and sale of the Titleist Pro V1 and Pro V1x golf balls.

Acushnet sought a new trial arguing that patents that they are supposed to be infringing are actually invalid and should have been rejected at submittal because they infringed on patents previously filed.   They also claim that the US Patent Office backs this claim and admits that the patent should not have been allowed to be registered. Nevertheless, in November 2008, a trial court denied Acushnet's motion and granted the injunction, effective January 1, 2009. Acushnet then requested a stay of the injunction, which was denied in a hearing late December.

However, Acushnet said in a statement that it will continue the appeals process in the patent dispute, and that this latest ruling will have no impact on consumers' ability to buy Pro V1s.

"This decision will not interfere with Titleist's ability to continue to manufacture, distribute and sell Pro V1 golf balls," said Joe Nauman, executive vice president for corporate and legal at Acushnet.

In the statement, Acushnet also noted, "In September, well in advance of the injunction, the production of existing Pro V1 model golf balls was converted to be outside the patents in question. As of January 1, 2009, there will be limited amounts of non-converted Pro V1 golf balls in retail inventory."

"Acushnet does not believe that the injunction order requires Acushnet to recall any Pro V1 golf balls from retailers, or that retailers are required to return any golf balls to Acushnet," continued Nauman. "However, Acushnet is prepared to accept returns of non-converted retail inventory if requested by retailers." (If anyone wants to make a quick buck, there are loads of the Pro V1 balls in the ditch which crosses the 6^th and 8^th holes at The Glamorganshire!).

My reading of this is that it seems that Titleist have converted one of their old balls to comply, and introduced a new one at the same time.

Is that all understood? No? Well, Aussie Geoff Ogilvie after winning the USPGA Tour season-opening Mercedes Championship in Hawaii, made this wry comment which should make everything clear:

“There’s a new old one and there’s a new old one which is the new one, which is the model in front of the old one,“ Ogilvie explained. “The other one is a 2007 ball and this is a 2009 ball. There’s a version of the 2007 ball but it doesn’t breach the patent. So, I’m using the non-patent breaching version of the 2007 ball.”!

There should be no shortage in the UK as, so far, the sales ban only applies to the US.

My advice: be very careful not to lose too many balls whatever the make but, especially Titleist Pro V1’s!

Sandy Parr

Three ball medal rounds are now typically taking over 4½ hours at the Club on Saturday afternoons.

Below are 12 tips to avoid slow play. These have been contributed by a Club member of long standing who is a past master of the fast golf round (he is sometimes known as the “Ayatollah Hogmanay”):

Keep up with the group ahead of you, not just ahead of the group behind you.

Leave your clubs at the side of the green towards the next tee

Reduce your number of practice swings

If in doubt about your ball, play a provisional

Be ready to play when it is your turn

Select your club as you approach your ball

If you cannot find your ball quickly - call the next group through.Do not search for 5 minutes before calling through

Consider putting out your short putts rather than marking and waiting

Mark your card on the next tee while someone else is driving

Save your stories until after you have played

Always concede the fourth putt!

Do not play with Roy Skelton/Dave Roberts/ etc.!

Any more suggestions you may have will be welcomed.

This Website is intended for the use of anyone who happens to read it and may contain information that is confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational religious beliefs and/or who may be ashamed of their golf game. Distribution or copying of this Website is not authorised (either explicitly or implicitly) and constitutes an irritating social faux pas – but don’t let that stop you, it never did before.

Unless the word absquatulation has been used in its correct context somewhere other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or even grammatical use and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the preparation of this Website, although the Yorkshire terrier next door is living on borrowed time, let me tell you. Those of you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards, so just ignore that Alert Notice from Microsoft.

However, by pouring a complete circle of salt around yourself and your computer you can ensure that no harm befalls you, your family, your closest friends (if any) and your pets. If you have dropped into the Website in error, please add some nutmeg and egg whites to this Disclaimer, whisk and place in a warm oven for 40 minutes.

Read this Website at your own risk. If in doubt, ask your doctor or pharmacist. Parental guidance advised. Always read the label. Do not read while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment, or during sex. Do not stamp. Breaking the seal constitutes acceptance of agreement. This Website may contain non-milk fat. Date as postmark. Lost ticket pays maximum rate. Read only in well-ventilated area. Price does not include taxes. Not for resale. Hand wash only. Keep away from sunlight. For a limited time only. No preservatives or additives. Keep away from pets and small children. Safety goggles may be required when reading. If rash, irritation, redness, or swelling develops, discontinue reading. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate this Website. Please remain seated until the web page has come to a complete stop. Refrigerate after opening. Flammable. Must be 18 years or older. Seat backs and tray tables must be in the upright position. Repeat as necessary. Do not look directly into light. Avoid extreme temperatures and store in a cool dry place. No salt, MSG, artificial colouring or flavouring added to this Website. Pregnant women, the elderly, fanatical golfers, and children should avoid prolonged exposure to this Website. If ingested, do not induce vomiting. May contain, be prepared by, and read by, nuts. Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear. Do not read if safety seal is broken. Please put the toilet seat back down and wash your hands after reading.

Apply only to affected area. Take care reading this Website if you have high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, thyroid disease, asthma, glaucoma, sexual difficulties, or pain during urination. May be too intense for some readers. In case of accidental ingestion, seek professional assistance or contact a poison control centre immediately. Many suitcases look alike. Post office will not deliver without postage. Not the Beatles. Websites are not authorized for use as critical components in life support devices or systems. Secretary/Manager does not carry cash. Do not puncture or incinerate. Do not play your headset at high volume. Discontinue use of this Website if any of the following occurs: itching, aching, vertigo, dizziness, ringing in your ears, vomiting, giddiness, aural or visual hallucinations, tingling in extremities, loss of balance or coordination, slurred speech, temporary blindness, drowsiness, insomnia, piles, difficulties having sex, profuse sweating, shivering, or heart palpitations. However, do not resist sending cash donations to the Club. Video+ and Video- are at ECL voltage levels, HSYNC and VSYNC are at TTL voltage levels. It is a violation of international law to use this Website in a manner inconsistent with its labelling. Intentional misuse by deliberately concentrating and inhaling the contents can be harmful or fatal. This Website has not been shown to cause cancer in laboratory rats. Do not use the AC adaptor provided with the player for other Websites.

DO NOT DELETE THIS LINE! -- the integrity of this Website depends on it.

Warranty does not cover normal wear and tear, misuse, accident, lightning, flood, hail storm, tornado, tsunami, volcanic eruption, avalanche, earthquake or tremor, hurricane, sol