Do not underestimate the golfer's need to get his fix

All around the country at this time of year, pros, greenkeepers and golfing widows are staggered by the lengths we will go to in pursuit of a round (or even part of one).

"They can't want to go out in this!" goes the cry. But we do.

Fog? We'll just watch extra carefully.

Frost? It's like coping with a burnt links course in the height of summer.

Rain? What do you think waterproofs are for?

Biting chill? It's called a bobble hat.

40mph wind? A mere breeze.

Dark at 3pm? Tee-off earlier.

The sheer anticipation of it all means that crying off is simply not an option. A game in the depths of winter is usually about a fortnightly occurrence, so having spent the time between cooped up in an office or car or warehouse, it's unthinkable to let the opportunity pass.

It turns us all into madmen. We find ourselves glaring at the offending frost, as though that will make it disappear. We pore over weather forecasts for days beforehand, interpreting a positive omen in the prospective strengthening of the wind (it will blow the rain away) or arrival of rain clouds (less likely to be frosty).

And even when the day in question dawns and the temperature is -3 or it is barely light enough to tell that the rain is tipping down, still we find hope. 

Once the sun rises it will get that few degrees warmer. 

It will brighten up by the time we get to the club and scoff a bacon sandwich.

Unfortunately, it rarely does. And how often have you foolishly embarked on a winter round only to realise as early as the 1st green that it's a total waste of time and you should never have bothered.

And yet, in two weeks' time, the whole process repeats and we're all at it again. Will we never learn?

By Dan Murphy

Christmas Gifts

With Christmas fast approaching, not only am I troubled by what I should be buying my nearest and dearest (and the thought of having to battle through the hoards of shoppers at Sheffield's Meadow-hell on Christmas Eve), but I'm also filled with dread at the golf related presents I'll also have to be thankful for come the big day.

Now, I don't want to appear rude or ungrateful, and might I add that I have always been appreciative of everything that has been bought for me in the past, but why is it that because I work for a golf magazine and play golf, every present has to be golf related?

I have been given some fantastic golf gifts in the past, such as the first ever cut down set of clubs my Mum and Dad bought me when I was five years old. I got a 3-wood, 7-iron, putter and a little bag to put them all in and I can remember going straight out to the back garden and making my Dad immediately regret his choice of gift by cutting up his lawn with an innumerate amount of divots.

Then there was the time my girlfriend had the inspiration to buy me an Odyssey two-ball putter when my putting had gone to the dogs and the year I was treated to a round at Lindrick with the pro there.

These have all been fantastic gifts that I have been forever grateful for. But for every great present, there has also been a cringe-worthy one, as many of you reading this have also found to your peril.

I have lost count of the amount of 'Golf Tools' I have unwrapped. Seriously, how many pitch mark repairers-cum-spike cleaner-cum-ball marker-cum-brushes do you need in one lifetime.

All have swiftly been banished to the bottom of my bag (or charity bag in some cases) never to reappear again.

Then there are the novelty golf socks, jumpers, ties, hats not to mention the gizmos and gadgets that all non-golfers think are the best thing since sliced bread, but the golfers among us know it will never get out of its box.

However, this blog isn't just about the presents I have received, it's also an open forum to discuss the worst gifts you have unwrapped on Christmas Day and been forced to give that "Ooohh, it's just what I wanted!" reply.

So blog away and allow me to while away the next few days reading your posts before leaving NCG Towers for the holidays.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Will Spence

Bouncing back

As someone who is always on the look-out to find new ways of improving their short game I genuinely believe last week was a watershed moment in my golfing career.

Most golfers are hopeful of turning three shots into two when they get within 50 yards of the green - I am looking to turn four, sometimes five, into three. Frustrating doesn't even come close as a variety of thins, fats, dunches, tops and the occasional J Arthur leave me a quivering wreck and, more often than not, diving for the putter.

Until now. The last few days have seen a dramatic turnaround in my chipping, not out on the course, but off the tight, firm lies of the office carpet. Think Turnberry 1977 and you're nearly there. Despite possessing all manner of dreadful shots around the greens the majority tend to be nervy, proddy thins which usually result in an embarassing traipse across the other side of the green into knee-high bushes.

Thanks to MD Golf there has not been one lethal clang into the radiator at work, more a succession of sweetly-struck (deft even) chips straight into the heart of the Putt 360. Ireland's Norman Drew was the first man ever to play in the Walker, Ryder and World Cups and the Northern Irish equipment manufacturers have used his renowned short-game expertise to create some sublime wedges.

The thinking is that too many wedges have too much bounce and are therefore easier to thin, thus the low bounce Players Series range which will help to put an end to even the gravest of chipping concerns. Of course much of it is down to confidence but the first time I got this particular weapon in my hands I was actually looking forward to making contact with the ball. Something that has not happened since 1992.

By Mark Townsend

They are available in lofts of 48, 50, 52, 54, 56, 58 and 60 and will only set you back £49.99. For more information visit www.mdgolf.co.uk or call 02894 460 333.

Taking issue with Ernie

BATTLING against the endless stream of platitudes from robotic sportsmen is the infuriating bane of journalists these days.
Long gone is the era when reporters travelled and socialised with footballers on European away days or when golfers and writers mingled in the clubhouse bar or local restaurant.
The lives of today's sports stars are hardly much worse for this scenario but it is a dagger in the heart of sports journalism which ultimately means it is the readers who are affected most.
So when someone comes along and offers something out of the ordinary it's always warmly welcolmed. I remember, for example, writing a few years ago that it was a real shame Paul Casey's tongue-in-cheek remark about Americans in the Ryder Cup being leapt upon so viciously.
Ernie Els is another who occasionally speaks frankly, notably against the PGA Tour's attempts to bully him into playing more frequently in America.
He did so again recently when he was criticised for not making himself available for the Volvo Masters, especially given he was leading the Order of Merit going into the event.
Els replied by stating this was the time of year he 'gets his wheelbarrow out' and fills it with cash - so if that means playing in Singapore instead of Valderrama due to a clash of events then he won't lose too much sleep over it.
I'm an Els fan and have been for many years. But this comment disappointed me hugely. For a start, the South African is not short of a Rand or two. It's not like heactually needs a wheelbarrow-full of cash.
He has won millions in prize money for over a decade, season after season, and been paid as much if not more through sponsorships and advertising.
Els is therefore pretty much admitting he's making a huge amount of money almost just for the sake of it. For those who pay lots of money to play golf as a hobby, it sticks in the throat.
The European Tour has been good to Els too. It's where he cut his teeth and to be fair, he acknowledges that by continuing to support it every year.
It's surely not too much to ask to attend it's end of year climax, even if he was contracted to the Singapore event.
And if he felt a loyalty to what would be a highly lucrative contract in Asia, at least appear disappointed at missing the Valderrama showdown rather than make a crude comment about cashing in.
Indeed, I can't imagine the organisers in Singapore were all that happy with the comment themselves. It's the equivalent of a prized international footballer arriving at an unfashionable club and smugly waving his pay slip at the cameras to explain his reason for joining.
Perhaps Els himself regrets the remark. I've always considered him a decent bloke so it wouldn't suprise me if he does.
I will still be very pleased to see him win the Major he wants so badly, especially the Masters, next year. But some of my affection for this man's man has been lost.
That said, it made a welcome change from the stultifyingly bland dross we normally get served up. Believe me when I say it feels almost sacriligious to criticise a colourful comment.
By Chris Bertram

Changing the clocks

At this time of year, getting 18 holes in can prove seriously difficult. Not on account of the frost, rain fog and snow – as is commonly assumed to be the case – but because of the lack of daylight. It sometimes seems that there is barely time to get up, have some breakfast, drive to the club and get on the 1st tee before the cut-off point of midday.
That said, at least on a weekend you have a fighting chance of a game, which is more than be said of weekdays between September and March.
But I have a solution. I propose that, on October the 1st, the clocks move forward an hour. Not back, you note, but forward. On November 1st, the same would happen. And again on December 1st. On January 1st they would go back an hour, and again a month later and again a month later.
This would ensure it was never dark before 8pm, meaning we could continue to play, weather permitting, on weekday afternoons and evenings throughout the year.
Yes, I realise this would mean it did not get late before midday in December, but so what? We're all at work anyway.
The way things are, the only hours it's light during the week (say 8am until 4pm) are those when the vast majority of us are stuck at work.
Under my system, we'd all actually be able to spend some time outside while it's light in the winter months.
I'm sure it's a great idea. What do you reckon?
By Dan Murphy
Editor

The Office (short-game championship)

WITH few light hours in these dreary winter days, there is little scope for the NCG team to venture onto the links. Contrary to popular opinion, magazines and websites aren't all that easy to put together you know.
So with few opportunities to get the competitive juices flowing we've resorted to putting at risk thousands of pounds worth of computer equipment by staging chipping and putting contests.
The inventor of the course, a strip of carpet between the editorial and design sections of a large open-plan office, is unknown. What is certain, though, is the addictive quality of this ad hoc short-game facility.
Quite what the inhabitants of the office below think is going on I'm not quite sure. A dull thud followed by what sounds like one of the Dam Busters bouncing balls - I wonder if they've worked it out?
Assuming no harm comes to the Apple Macs and PCs which line the fairway, it will prove a successful operation though and not only because it provides a bit of fun in the otherwise dark winter months.
It is also actually terrific practice. If you can produce a clean strike off that worn carpet you'll be confident of chipping off even the tightest of links lies come March.
What's more, there's no disguising the purity of a strike. A slightly fat effort if clearly audible while anything thin simply careers into the back wall.
There's already evidence to suggest that one staff writer whose short game is on the inconsistent side is likely to be deadly round the greens next season. Indeed, the official NCG Handicap Committee have already met on two occasions to discuss a suitable adjustment.
The worrying thing for this author is that while my chipping is respectable enough, my putting can only be ranked in the bottom three of NCG staff.
When you consider there are six of seven staff who don't actually play the game, it's a worrying stat. I'm not even learning my lessons either. One evening I spent 15 minutes or so hitting the same putt so clumsily that it sped past its target (a clever device from Putt 360) and into the kitchen time after time after time to the bemusement and delight of the Editor.
At least now I know how Tiger felt when he putted into Rae's Creek at Augusta. Sort of.
By Chris Bertram