Winning ugly. That’s the way it’s been recently. It has certainly been pleasing to be building up my funds behind the desk of the pro shop, but I would be the first to admit that it has not been pretty.
I have been racking up enough points to take the money but not by dint of consistently good play or by returning a card devoid of big numbers. I have played a strong front half, then hung on while I struggled over the next nine holes. I have started poorly, then turned some metaphorical corner and not put a foot wrong for the rest of the round. I have played rounds that have as many jagged ups and downs as an extremes of temperature graph, with a perfectly executed par or birdie being followed by a hackathon requiring the kind of recovery shot even the late great Seve might find beyond his capabilities. But I haven’t been handing in cards that record a well played consistent round of golf.
And then today saw me losing ugly. My golf can’t even be consistent even in its ugliness, it seems. Through 12 holes I was playing very nicely, thank you, and looking set for a score comfortably in excess of 36 points, when a wild 3 wood off the 13th tee signalled a slide into survival mode, and I staggered through the following 6 holes to end up a full 4 points short of par.
I think it may be time for a lesson.