Five Iron Blues

Not that I'm bitter or anything, but I'm still trying to figure out how a simple 5 iron could wreak such havoc in the plans I'd set for the weekend... golden plans with a sunny horizon and gentle winds that had me winning everything in sight in the pitch and putt, darts and pool matches laid on for the visit of brother Andrew and nephew Stephen. About the only thing on plan was the weather, much against forecasts of rain, rain and more rain.

Now, I'm not complaining. Not one to complain (much). But (yes, you could tell there was a but on its way couldn't you?) it's not right I should be beaten by my younger brother playing with the wrong club and a backswing looking like he's being charge by the inch. Quite apart from the deference perspective I've thought much about my backswing, follow through, keeping eye on ball. Andrew's effort had all the aspects of an unwelcome interruption in the general joshing and repartee that accompanied each competitor's attempt to plop the ball in the hole at their first attempt.

The whole experience has affected me to the extent I'll be trawling the charity shops this morning searching for a five iron worthy of accompanying my putter. Out the window will go three years of careful stroke development. Might also seek another putter... didn't exactly shine on that front either. Could tell fortune wasn't on my side; didn't get a single lucky shot the whole weekend! Lucky shots are an important part of my pitch and putt arsenal. I rely on them to demoralise opponents.

Nephew Steven is obviously a chip off the old block. Having pushed me into last place on Sunday's round by one stroke after I plumbed the depths on the final hole, missing a putt measured in millimetres, Steven thought it helpful to mention he'd only ever played golf four times.

What of the competitions down The Legion on Saturday evening? No happy news for me at darts, where son John and I, both at least able to hit the board with some degree of style, effectively eliminated ourselves in attempting to knock the other out while the rest of the contestants (including sons-in-law Barry and Chris) tried hard not to spear an innocent passer by. Success went to Steven, narrowly beating Chris into second place.

And finally pool. Must admit I was approaching this with some trepidation after Andrew whitewashed me on the last visit home to Scone. I know it's not much of an accolade to say we drew 2-2, but got to redeem what crumbs of comfort I can from the weekend, and Andrew's an awesome pool player.

Oh yes, who won the pool completion... Steven of course! He was clearly the weekend's champion winning both darts and pool, and giving as good as he got at pitch and putt in spite of lack of practice. With a fun tea at The Dolphin on Saturday with all the family it all added up to one of the best weekends for a long time.

Below are a few images and footage from the games.

Here's the hopeful competitors on Saturday afternoon at the first tee, each one absolutely certain of a spectacular win.

Steven takes the scenic route to the hole.

England (me and John) v Scotland (Andrew and Steven) score was 6-1.

With John and Andrew having the best round of 36.

Saturday evening, and in spite of the darts pot being in his eye line, Barry hits his double 19 and becomes a killer.

Darts won by Steven, runner up Chris.

John pots the black for the first pool win of the evening, over Andrew.

Pool result, and the winner is.... Steven! Again!

Sunday morning, pitching off at the first hole.

Fourth hole.

Ninth hole. No more footage from here on... just too painful to watch for your's truly!

Result for Sunday's pitch and putt, another win for Andrew, moral victory for Steven.

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