Screaming Serenas, wee weekends in Salisbury and Brookian after thoughts

That really was some display by Serena Williams in the final of the US Open. What a great shame for the young Japanese girl, Osaka, who totally outplayed her, but had her huge moment stolen away by the antics of a reprimanded Miss Williams. But watch who you call ‘thief’ Serena for you were to that young, good natured and aspiring lass.

In fact, your coach was caught on camera ‘coaching’ you and he admitted it. But you claimed not to have seen him? Hmm… Certainly by the chaps eye contact at the end of that interlude, it looked pretty clear he was communicating with you. But enough of that or we should get weighed down Lexi Thomson style.

My new Wilson clubs have arrived and I’m delighted with them. The new V6 irons are a dream to play with and my handicap is shooting down. I hit a drive and a wedge onto the par 5 sixteenth of the Eden and even managed to two putt. Shame about my two lost balls and the unplayable one in a gorse bush though! I suppose that my golf follows my rather erratic nature. More Jean Van De Velde than David Duval let’s say.

But I am full of the joys of golf again. I have a very simple swing thought now which is revolutionary. And I don’t believe it is the customary red herring as has played its course over the last forty years. This I believe is it. I’ve cracked it. Ever so simple and something Colin Brooks at Braid Hill pointed out twenty years ago. I suppose it’s had a bit of a long gestation period or I’m probably just pretty slow on the uptake. Let’s just say not the brightest fish in the sea.

It will of course be revealed in my forthcoming book, but I should chart the progress in this blog. Last two net handicap scores are 66 and 68. Handicap now down from 11 to 8 in two rounds. Unfortunately though it is the end of the season, but I shall maintain this in the blog.

On other fronts work on the wee bistrot in Edinburgh is underway at last. It should be finished at the end of November. Mediterrraneo I think it will be called and I shall be front of house. Based in Murrayfield it is a must for all discerning gastro bods and not ill placed for the rugby crowd, Alessandro who successfully runs Colpamia at the moment will be at the helm. We are playing in the 175th St Andrews Golf Club Invitational on the Old next Sunday and Alessandro who is a passionate golfer is not unhappy to have been invited.

Politics is Brexit dull as usual with the exception of blond bonking, bonkers Boris who has about as much literary subtlety in his Telegraph column as me after six pints of Guinness. I suppose at least Boris you are not Brexit dull. That is one thing to say about you. Well except maybe when you are down at The Oval or being overly prattish.

Mind you I’m loving watching Putin trying to scramble himself out of the hole with respect to the two Russian bods who came over for the weekend to Salisbury. If there ever was a face that told someone was lying, it was his. And it will be great watching these guys justifying their flying visit?

‘Oh Boris has a grannie in Salisbury and she is a great hoot and we just thought a wee visit would not be inappropriate. Boris is my mate and I’ve never been to Britain and I’ve heard so much about Salisbury’. Well it must going along such lines I would think?

I have been following the Test match cricket with the absorbing, and delightfully mellifluous commentary of Johnathan Agnew. He is a wonderful chap and combines well with the more brusque and straight forward Yorker (if a yorker can be straightforward?) Geoffrey Boycott.

Shame that golf doesn’t have guys of this class commentating anymore. Ian Carter and Nick Faldo are hardly inspiring. I expect Henry Longhurst was of the vintage and classic mould? You know, with that beautiful voice and poetically toned Shipping Forecast, Cotswold valley village green, late summer, Laurie Lee, beer fresh, hammock meadowed loveliness.

But I am getting carried away.

God, get me to the Woolpack in Slad.

 

 

 

 

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