A Slippery Slope

We were out with two couples yesterday on The Castle Course, and I had the bag of Brad who was this big and slightly grave looking American. He hit two great shots into the first but three putted from twenty feet. On the second, we were in to a stiff breeze and we decided to lay up in front of the bunkers instead of taking on a two twenty shot into a strong cross wind. However, his ball ended up in the bunker and I think he was not entirely happy with my clubbing. I apologized and said that I didn’t appreciate the wind direction. Anyway, he said a few words to his partner which I am sure were not wholly complimentary. However, these things unfortunately do happen and a caddie can but only apologize.

So, he is in the bunker and fluffs his first and then just manages to get it out on to the top of a rather long and steep faced slope, on the grass just above. I proceed to rake the said bunker but then see him slide unceremoniously down the face on his back and end up at my feet. There was that kind of frozen moment when no words were said and no words I suppose were apt, and certainly not a time for eye contact. I suppose the best result would have been to then laugh this off. However, the poor chap was attempting to retain some dignity and had not quite forgotten my bad clubbing, and the reason for him being on his back, in the sand at my feet. And to be sure we were both acknowledging the fact that this was a highly critical juncture in our relationship.

But full credit to Brad as he got up, brushed off the sand and said ‘a slippy slope that’. And in my estimation that could have gone much worse.

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