I Love Golf But Sometimes I Wonder Why

Golfshake's Derek Clements is returning to his homeland of Scotland for a holiday, something that got him thinking about his formative years growing up in golf and the often painful experiences that this game provides - both metaphorically and literally.

I LOVE golf! But sometimes I wonder why. I have been playing on and off since I was about five years old. My grandfather was an exceptional player and I think he had dreams of seeing me walking down the 18th fairway on the way to collecting the Claret Jug.

Sadly, the closest he ever got was watching me pick up my schools’s knockout competition.

Long-suffering subscribers will know that I am Scottish. I have lived in England since 1985 and I have been back to the land of my birth to cover The Open on many occasions. 

These are usually times when I am reminded of one of the main reasons that I left in the first place - the weather! I can remember attending the 2010 Open at St Andrews when play was suspended because the wind was so strong that it nearly deposited the media centre in the nearby estuary.

I have not been home for a proper holiday for 27 years. But I am about to put that right. And I cannot wait.

(Lundin Golf Club - Where Derek Played Many Formative Rounds)

I will be meeting up with an old friend called Paul Harris whom I haven’t seen since we were in our very early 20s. He used to have a mop of thick hair. He is now completely bald.

Anyway, it got me thinking. Paul and I used to play a lot of golf on a nine-hole course called King’s Park. It was handy for him - his house overlooked the fifth tee and he would often jump over the fence and play for nothing.

On one occasion we were standing on the tee and I had the honour. I took a practice swing and, on my follow through I hit something. His forehead! He had been distracted because he had seen his mum in the back garden.

Paul went down like a sack of spuds. I thought that I had killed him. And, of course, what made it worse was that his mum had witnessed the entire thing. She came running to the bottom of the garden, climbed over the fence and said to me; ”What have you done to my son?”

He was out cold for no more than about 20 seconds but in that short period of time my entire life flashed before my eyes. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach. But then he came around, climbed to his feet, assured myself and his mum that he was fine and insisted on completing our round.

By the time we had finished he was sporting a lump the size of a tennis ball. But, thankfully, there was no real damage done. But it does perhaps explain why we haven’t seen each other for so long.

I love golf!

On another occasion I was playing at Kirkhill Golf Club on the outskirts of Glasgow with my father. We were walking up the first fairway when I heard a muffled cry of “Fore” - at precisely the same moment that a golf ball bounced in front of me and then reared up and caught me in my Crown Jewels.

I went out like a light. My father leapt to my side so see how I was. The pain was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I tried to get up but the pain was so severe that I fainted.

I was eventually able to get to my feet and told my father that I wanted to carry on. I last about 50 yards. My Crown Jewels were the size of coconuts for the next week or so.

I love golf!

There’s more…

I was playing in a matchplay competition at another course in Glasgow and stood on the 18th tee one up. As we strode off the tee I heard a golf ball bounce and then everything went black - the ball jumped up and hit me in the middle of my forehead. There had been no shout of “Fore” so I had no warning.

As I was recovering, the man who had struck the offending drive approached me. “Is everything OK?” He asked. “Well not really,” replied my opponent. ”Your drive just smashed into his head.” “Oh God, I am so sorry. Listen, I will see you in the clubhouse and buy you a drink. It’s the very least that I can do."

Here’s the best bit. I couldn’t continue so my opponent claimed the hole. That made us all square. And because I was in no shape to play extra holes, he also claimed the match. 

And the guy whose ball hit me? You may not be surprised to learn that he decided to give the clubhouse a miss.

Yes, I love golf!