Fear:
(noun) a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.
There was a point when I stood on the 2nd fairway at Narooma when I thought I felt fear. I was about 130m to the hole, uphill, ocean on the left, lots of room to bale out on the right. Pin in the middle. I had just bogeyed the first hole. What's happening to me? I thought. Why has my confidence disappeared? Was it the hangover-induced fuzziness? The early morning start (waking up at 4:50 am Brisvegas time)? The idea that a good shot here could kick start a great round and might just lead to an improbable PDC International victory? Or conversely that a poor shot would close the door on any glimmer of hope? I selected my 7 iron. I had a practice swing, and took a big divot. That's not good, I thought. This really could go anywhere. Try again. Smoother. Ok, that's better. I eventually hit an unconvincing shot onto the green. That wasn't so hard, I concluded. But it wasn't the end. As I walked toward green the light tap of doubt grew to a drum beat worthy of the Edinburgh Tattoo. There is no escaping this one, Lord, you need to find a solution fast or this round is toast.
I didn't. On the par 3 3rd I hit it onto the cliff face. The ball was impossible to retrieve - it just stared at me as I walked towards the green, I could hear it whispering, 'You're f#cked mate'. Four or so hours later I walked off the 18th with 89. Hmm, hardly a successful conquest of my demons over the rest of the round, but on reflection, another wonderful example of why I love this game. One moment I am tonking a Driver with complete confidence. A few moments later I may as well have a
star picket in my hand for all the good it will do me trying to hit a 3 iron to this long par 3.
We all have our demons, our fears, our train wrecks - that moment when we know it's going to custard and there is nothing that's going to stop it e.g. Shark at the US Masters v Faldo; Jean van de Velde at the Open in the water on the 18th; Tiger when his missus found the text messages from Bambi, Kandy and Krystal.
It's not just part of this wonderful game of golf, it's part of life. It's THAT big.
Fortunately we can look beyond our own failures and foibles and be inspired by others who overcome. At the the 2013 PDC International it was a great pleasure, a privilege even, to watch the Chief and John McG share the cup with 100 stableford points over 3 rounds - first at
Royal Canberra, followed by two rounds at
Narooma. Chief just plugs away hitting it shorter and shorter every year. John, well, jeez, I don't know how he gets it back to the ball sometimes, but it just bloody works and he's now a three-time PDC International joint winner. Which is more one more major than the Shark won.
Might I add there was also joy watching the
shooting star that was the Craw in round two at Narooma - 39 points, via 2 greens in regulation and 24 putts. Unfortunately that was more satellite than star (apologies to
Billy Bragg) and dropped to earth rapidly in round three, mere space junk.
Craw's exceptional second round was the catalyst for victory in the inaugural Seiko Challenge, which went to a sudden death play-off versus the Chief, whose barnstorming all time PDC record of 3-4-2-4 (birdie-birdie-birdie-birdie) finish could not be sustained. Craw's sublime chip from the rough, over a bunker and close to the flag to clinch victory was one for the ages.
And while I am on the topic of the play-off, I wonder whether the Narooma locals have recovered from seeing Shirls wander down the play-off hole in front of the clubhouse, schooner of
Resch's at half mast, casual as you like...
There were so many PDC moments to relish I can't list them all, and of course, they are just my views, so add your comments dear reader, but here are some:
- Strolling the Augusta of the south at Royal Canberra. Kangaroos resting in the scrub. Crows drifting by. Blue skies. It all seemed very Australian.
- Splendid wining and dining in Kinsgton on Thursday night, and back there for breakfast.
- Sunny blue skies - best PDC weather ever.
- Pie shop at Braidwood, en route to Naroooma.
- The spectacular holes that hug the coast at Narooma including the par 4 2nd, par 3 3rd, par 5 5th and 18th.
- Whales breaching as we enjoyed a post-match frothy.
- Navigating the early morning fisherman and scoring a cracking croissant and ice coffee from the Narooma Bakery early Saturday morning. It's an eclectic little town, for example I noticed the picture framing shop in the main drag is a stockist for alarms and surveillance cameras, and motorcycle accessories. You really get your bang for your buck...
- Lunchtime prawns and cool drink on the deck between rounds on Saturday arvo.
- Doc's drive on the 2nd hole, final round - oh my goodness, that was a long way right.
- Craw and Shirls hitting into the front yard of a holiday home and onto
road respectively on the 7th. A pedestrian on their way to beach
kindly returned Shirls' ball 15 minutes later as we considered our putts
on the green.
- Dr No and Saturday night, with her.
- Visiting Parliament House (old and new)
My thanks all involved in arrangements. My personal thanks to Muz for the pre-PDC lesson that helped me reinvent my sand iron game, that had been missing for 20 years.
There were solid noises advocated for a return to Barnbougle in 2014. I look forward to opportunities for workshopping my psychological frailties between now and then.
For all the pics and some video visit
here.
