East Neuk of Fife Tour 2020
Courses |
Crail Golf Club Warm-up Fairmont, Kittocks Dumbarnie Links |
|---|---|
Date |
28th-30th August 2020 |
Champion |
Mr ??? |
Accommodation |
Chez Stanger and Dickson, St Monance |
Entertainment |
The Waterfront, Anstruther Mitchells Deli, St. Andrews St. Andrews |
Weather |
Cool, dry with a bit of wind |
Summary |
Mr Stanger did request an airdrop of extra balls - though it was unclear which type - having sprayed his existing allocation far and wide over the course. The Army Air Corp glady obliged with a Chinook helicopter drop, and he was soon back in the fray. And when I say back, I mean fourth - of five. Stanger is now looking at a helicopter to add to the mid-life crisis list of toys. Mr Dickson was at a moderate disadvantage in the first round, having consumed a dodgy Chickpea curry the previous evening, the ramifications of which were evident in his slightly darker than usual khaki trousers and a strange aroma not attribitable to any known deoderant. Regardless, he preceded to top the scoring, though anyone playing downwind of him probably struggled to focus on their own game, let alone breathe. Dickson attribute the pungent fug to the farmer of the surrounding fields clearly fertilising his land between crops. Mr Scott hung in there manfully, no doubt aided by his experience in being a man of the land and used to coping with the appaling stench of sub-human faeces. Indeed, his experience of dealing with vast swathes of stomach churningly odious bilge, a natural by-product of committee meetings and select colleages in both his previous employers, must surely have stood him in good stead in overcoming this most disturbing trait of his fellow human. Mr Bell, just slightly further back, must have looked on this challenge as a mere triffle, having recently had to battle with the forces of dark and evil beings of the most heinous kind - solicitors and lenders. Jumping through hoops for their pleasure, and having no doubt suffered many financial knocks and scrapes, he gainfully persevered, enduring even the most arcane and tumultuously slow processes of BT and Royal Mail. Naturally, he too wil have drawn on his own working experiences when dealing with that level of incompetence and bureacratic dimwittery. He does, after all, work for the masters of the art - the 'organisation' Mr Ham, fresh from manfully saving the world from CoVid with his cunningly designed respirator, is currently carrying the lantern rouge. A great deal of thinking and design went into his modified swing - and the respirator - but all was seemingly undone by some strong wind (the meteorologic kind, not the vegan kind) which has left him needing something of a biblical resurrection. A shame then, that more thought didn't go into the location and design of his Aberdeen office which, during a recent, equally biblical downpour, came to replicate the working environment best known to many of his diving clients, that being several feet under water. Undeterred, he gabbed his biggest and rubberiest watch and proudly declared the office space would now be the second largest, deep sea training environment in Scotland, though I think few were impressed with the scaled down version of a semi-submersible platform - or 'desk' as most would know it. Or indeed, of the life sized diving bell, which was formerly the rollerdoor filing cabinet. Mr Graham was unfortunately unable to attent 'The Gathering', though watched on - miopically - from the confines of the isolation ward, offering scant words of consolation and a frankly scathing assessment of the party's laughably poor endeavours at procuring five seats in one, or indeed ANY, public house within the confines of the sprawling metropolis of St. Andrews. CoVid regulation was something of a barrier to entry, I admit, but it seems scarecely believable that the combined social network of influence, of the rich, famous, powerful and alcoholiclly connected coven couldn't drum up one round of drinks in a town awash with taverns and bars of all size and description. I can only conclude, that after the exertions of the day and with similar to follow the next, that the team succummed to apathy of gargantuan proportions and declared to no-one in particular, that maybe a few drams back at the house might be a more appealing option than engaging - in a friendly but socially distanced manner - with some of the local 'talent' It seems then, that it has come to this : that of all the varied entertainment the world over, and richness and debauchery on offer, the best night out, is a night in. With slippers. |
