On being compared to Seve

I have had three great insights this week, involving my swing, social media marketing and Scandinavian golf.

The golf swing one came from my elderly friend Ken who walked around and watched me play the New. He at one point compared me to the late Seve Ballestros, which was a massive compliment I suppose. Not comparing me on the looks front of course, for as aforementioned, I have long lost the jet black in my hair (and indeed my hair!) which would have given me any possible resemblance to that handsome man. No, it was my golf swing and my ever so slight, ensuing erraticism. Ken pointed out that I was collapsing my left side through impact. And he was perfectly right. A strong left side through impact is fundamental to a solid golf swing.

But that is enough of that. This is not Golf Digest.

As you may be aware I am involved in opening a bistrot in Edinburgh. Now I caddied for a lovely and fascinating man from Wigan yesterday, who is in the process of opening up gyms up and down the country. Alan couldn’t emphasise enough the importance of social media marketing in the success of these ventures. And indeed, he seems certainly to be doing ok with it as he has been backed by JD Sports, who cannot be a bad bed fellow. It’s kind of the equivalent of us being partnered with Heston Blumenthal and rolled out by Waitrose.

Now that’s food for thought.

Alan was telling how his friend has this, state of the art, club fitting business and has many celebrities on board. One, a Mr Wayne Rooney, hit fifty balls with that bit of tracing paper over the club face to highlight his striking capabilities. Seemingly, not one was near the sweet spot. So maybe we won’t be seeing Wayne up at the Dunhill just yet.

We have had many Scandinavian parties up this week who have been an interesting and lively bunch. One group in particular played great golf and were impressive drinkers. They all brought out their different bottles of spirits on the second tee. Cognac and whisky and some cream liquor. By the half-way house they were merry, threw back bottles of beer and stocked up with some wine, to add some diversity to the situation I presume, for they still had their bottles of liquor. By the fifteenth they were very buoyant and one chap, Stig, was playing remarkably good golf. I mentioned this to my man, Lars, who agreed and intimated that he had basically played at professional level. But his face then took on a most serious and grave expression as he added ‘he can’t play when he is sober though’.

Now that’s a sobering thought.

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