As the final hours of 2015 slip by, a quick look back over the past ten days is perhaps dominated by the recent underfoot conditions which, in a word, have been soggy. So far this winter, if it can be called that, has been mild (daytime temperatures pretty much consistently in double figures), grey (the sun has been noticeable by his absence from proceedings) and wet (lots of rain to dampen any enthusiasm we might have felt). We have just come back from the final Dad vs Tristan of the year, which I sneaked by one by taking the 13th as a mighty rainstorm was just sweeping in. We had also been out for a full round on the post-Christmas Monday bank holiday, when he was on sparkling form, reaching the turn in six over and keeping me at arm’s length throughout. As things stand after 12 months of the series, it is Dad 28, Tristan 17, all square 3. I suspect things will become more challenging for me in 2016 as Tristan finds his feet more firmly as a golfer.
I end the year not feeling any closer to golfing consistency than I did at the start of it, and my handicap seems to have got stuck at a much higher number than I am happy with. I think those two things are inextricably linked, so I know what I have to do in the coming twelve months if I am not to find myself drawing the same conclusions in 366 days’ time.
But one very positive thing came along in the dying days of 2015. Yesterday I scored my very first eagle, with a two on the third hole at Chilworth. My tee shot drifted, as usual, to the right of the fairway, leaving me with 95 yards over a fir tree to reach the green. I duly gave it a biff with my pitching wedge from my blind position and, when I moved to one side of the tree to watch the outcome, I saw my ball land some five feet from the hole and roll obligingly in. Now that was nice. As a result my Chilworth eclectic card now stands at 9 under par, which should act as some kind of encouragement in days to come!