Thursday, July 22, 2010
#7Jon's Pub golf
Probably the best night out in 2008 was to mark the start of Jon’s hiatus from SaiGon as Chi was gestating and he was venturing to icier climes for his PGCE. My first experience of pub golf, a lot was learned on that balmy night, mainly that Long Island Iced Teas should not be played on an 18 hole course, and that mobile phones should be left at home.
I’m proud of the fact that I can remember most of the night, and from the scraps of paper found in David On’s pocket the next morning, I actually managed to complete a decent round, ending up a couple of shots behind the leader, whoever that might have been.
The players were mainly made up of Raiders, with the notable exception of Christoff, Henno’s mate from Stellenbosch who I was meeting for the first time, but would feature later in massive sporting fixtures such as the inaugural Singapore F1 Grand Prix, and the World Cup in South Africa (or more accurately, wine tours in between games). We lost David On for certain holes as a result of a jealous, attention seeking girlfriend, but were rewarded with an entertaining take on women from the man himself. He later tried to save some strokes by buying a round, but was frustrated to find that generosity doesn’t get you the birdies in this case.
Somewhere between making assertive statements regarding fire hydrants and the 14th hole, we came across a mechanical digger. Having failed to spark life into the beast by ourselves, the driver turned up and obliged us by cranking the engine and then hoisting Henno and I who were perched on the crane up several feet in the air. This ignited a trend for heights on industrial machinery, which I partly believe was inspired by Pete Shepherd’s schooldays theft of a steamroller.
The memory started to go at Q Bar, and I’m sure that if we had a game the next day, it’s a fair bet to assume we lost.