Despite the usual worrisome warnings about handicap certificates and dress codes Chesterfield proved a winning venue. A nice course in top condition and excellent sandwiches at lunchtime. I played despite the multiple injuries sustained in a drunken fall in the wee small hours, a matter over which we will now draw a veil. As for my golf, once I had my hangover under control I played some passable (though most certainly not victorious) holes. More to the point I did so in the company of men who take neither themselves nor the game over-seriously. I got pissed all over again on the second night but this time the only injury I sustained was a burnt tongue as I attacked too quickly an otherwise excellent late night pizza. These then are the perils of middle-age for the shamelessly unrepentant baby boomers.
|All this and good sandwiches too|