Golfing Mayhem 2006

Just back from a gruelling weekend away with a bunch of mates, playing golf at Narooma. This is an annual pilgrimage, last year's report has some good piccies, I didn't take the camera this year, rest assured it is just as magnificent as ever.

As usual I failed to get an early night on Friday, hit the sack about 2am, then got up and drove 250kms to Narooma on Saturday morning in time for a tee off about the middle of the day.

The format for this event remains pretty much the same each year. 16 blokes with widely varying levels of ability, seriousness and sobriety attempt to play relatively good golf on the Saturday afternoon. This task is undermined by inadequate fitness levels, hills, bottles of rum and coke warming slowly in golf bags, more hills, wind (mostly from behind the guy drinking the rum) and a nearby ocean with magnetic fields which clearly attract golf balls.

By late afternoon the majority of us have realized we are crap at golf, and geez beer tastes good. Gary is a master of organisation, and hands out the Barocca before we all get too stuck in, and then it's off to the pub until the wee hours.

One bloke declared loudly that he needed the double bed in our cabin because he's the only single guy and intends to pick up. So Adam and I agreed to play the role of wingmen. (I always liked 'Goose' more than that tosser 'Mav' anyway)
Needless to say no-one 'lost that loving feeling' this year despite much enthusiam from our Mav.

As usual most of us had one too many drinks, and in the case of Adam it was a XXXX beer, which is one too many when it's your FIRST drink as far as I'm concerned. He may have attempted to drink it because of some misguided coerscion on my part.

It is possible (my memory is hazy) that I suggested he was too shitfaced to scull a beer, and that no-one could scull goat piss like XXXX anyway.

A young local had given us the beer for free on our walk home. It is also possible that I may have turned to this bloke and declared: "Adam, If you can scull that I'll give this bloke a blow job!"

Adam failed to scull successfully, much to my relief, and the apparent disappointment of the young lad from Narooma. He did however consume enough to forget how to he got back to the cabin. This may have involved some cross country hiking on a golf course. Only one of our blokes had to retire from the Sunday competition afer stuffing a shoulder when he fell into a bunker.

Golf is dangerous.