i've got the power

Professional golfers like what I is are always trying to find new techniques to give themselves the edge over the tubby salesmen they play with. With this in mind I visited a new, posh driving range this week. I paid for my bucket of balls and proffered a pound coin as deposit for a rubber tee.

The daft lad in a powder blue Lyle and Scott number said, 'no sir we use Power Tees here'. 'Great' I said wandering off towards the range wondering what on earth power-tees were.

I wandered past a couple of booths trying to select the perfect teeing off spot and found a mat with a ball already set-up on a tee. 'Fantastic... a free go' I muttered to myself. So I lined everything up. Smacked it a good, ooh, 15 yards with my best stick. Looked down at my feet and there's another ball sitting on the tee ready for thwacking. Wow. So power-tees are like that elusive everlasting pint of Guinness, or that ever-full wallet.

Brilliant. I went straight back to see soft-lad in the shop and bought two.

local swingers

...or as I like to call him, 'Dad'.

You know I've always steered clear of golf... it has connotations you know. Tarby, Wogan, pink Pringle knitwear, fat business men, spoiling a nice walk, etc. Anyway I've been to a local driving range twice this week in secret. Oh yes... borrowed some old sticks from a colleague and stood whacking buggery out of a bucketload of knackered balls for half an hour.

I am, of course, a natural. I reckon if I'm to stand any chance with Kirsty, I'll need to be able to show her old man a thing or two on the golf course... what d'ya reckon?