My elderly American chap the other day was an interesting guy. Successful, wealthy, very fit and obviously pretty keen on the old game.
He handed me a card on the first and asked if I would keep his score. This was fine but it became quickly apparent that this was to become a wonderful work of fiction. It started on the second when he duffed a chip and simply put another ball down, played it better and used it. It was essentially a round of on going self given Mulligan’s. Fair call I thought, and maybe that is how golf should be played. I mean they kind of do it in tennis. But I’m not sure if the R and A would buy it.
Things got more colourful though. He hit this good chip shot about fifteen feet past the pin on the 9th and it unfortunately stuck at the top of a little mound, somehow defying gravity. I said bad luck as in most cases it would have rolled back close to the hole. Which is what it did. As he walked past he gave a skilful nudge with his left foot and it rolled to three feet.
The nemesis came on the long 12th where he had a mulligan off the tee, got into the greenside bunker in ‘three’, had a quick stab, dropped another and stabbed again. Failed on two more attempts to get out, then put it to forty five feet and holed it! His wife turned round and said what was that? And he remarkably and unashamedly and astonishingly said a ‘par’!