At last. A moment of triumph for me on the golfing front. Not, admittedly, on the golf course and I have to confess that initially it passed me by but eventually there was joy unbounded. What on earth is she wittering on about now, you may be wondering.
Well, once again this year I entered the AGW’s PYP (Pick Your Pro) competition and managed to get my entry in on time to the long-suffering, ultra-organised Mark who administers the whole thing. My ambition every year is to have all my picks actually play in the event – a bit like setting out to keep a six off your card – and that went out the window early on. Sound familiar? Exactly like keeping a six off your, my, card.
There was no sign of Jason Day at the Genesis Invitational, the fourth tournament on the list and the truth was that I’d been lucky to last that long. Earlier, at the Farmers Insurance Open, Max Homa did at least start but he had a first round of 77 and withdrew. I think that was where he’d changed all his equipment – and possibly his swing! My interest in PYP, which Dai always refused to countenance, calling it “RIDICULOUS”, began to wane.
Having found it tricky to keep tabs on the HSBC Women’s World Championship in Singapore because of the time difference, it took me a while to clock that Jeena Thitikul, my choice, was second equal behind Lydia Ko (my pick for the Evian Championship in July). Promising and a bit of dosh to add to my total, if nothing like the money the men earn.
The next event, the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill in Florida, was not on my radar because there was so much else on. There was a trip to Crufts with Sue and Alice, who were on duty for Canine Concern at the reading corner. They go in to a local primary school and help the children with their reading – and their socialising. It’s amazingly successful, not least because the children love Alice and she and Sue are a brilliant team. They shared the stand with Benji the Bedlington terrier and his boss Fran and they all did their bit to spread the word.
A bit of a breather near the end of the stint.
Crufts is big – it takes up five halls at the vast NEC – and busy, busy, busy. I was only there in a supporting and shopping role and while Sue and Alice went in search of bargains at James Wellbeloved (dog food) and Yumove (good for joints), I did my bit for Ireland’s knitwear industry. One of my purchases, which will be much worn not only because I love it but also to reduce the cost per wearing, has been much admired already, so it won’t go down as one of my (many) sartorial errors.
See it, feel it, try it, buy it! And chat with the seller. More fun than on line. Colour may (does) differ from the photo.
I couldn’t give my new woolly its first Spurs outing on Sunday because it was like a summer’s day, properly hot. I remembered to take my sunglasses, left my big, cozy coat in the boot of the car and had to buy sun cream. I was sorry I hadn’t rooted out one of my sunhats and that is not an exaggeration – I could feel the sun burning the top of my head and the DWD (Dog-Walking Dermatologist) in my ear telling me off; my next-seat neighbour was in a tee shirt – short sleeves, no jumper, woolly or otherwise, in sight.
Bliss: shielding my eyes from the sun! We were 2-nil down against Bournemouth and managed to scrape a 2-all draw. Phew.
No relegation – or much else (well, perhaps the Europa League, though I’m writing this before our match on Thursday) for Spurs this season – and no grand slam for Ireland after a bit of a battering from France in Dublin last Saturday. Sport, like life, can be cruel. Or unexpectedly exhilarating, euphoric and surprising. Just ask Russell Henley.
He’s the bloke who barely reacted at all when he chipped in for an unlikely eagle three at the 16th in the last round of the API (Arnold Palmer Invitational), dashing the hopes of Collin Morikawa and hanging on for the biggest win of his career. Henley admitted afterwards that he was so nervous and concentrating so hard that he didn’t dare show too much emotion for fear of cracking up altogether.
I also showed no emotion whatsoever as he holed a nasty-looking four-footer to win, having completely forgotten that he was my pick of the week. It wasn’t until the next day that I found out that I and two others had hit the jackpot and my celebration was much noisier and far more exuberant than Russell’s. It might be my first-ever PYP win and I’ve zoomed up to sixth in the table. What’s more, Scottie Scheffler, the world No 1 and defending champion, is my choice to win the Players Championship this week….
Oops. Oh no he isn’t. On closer inspection, my pick is Schauffele not Scheffler, so I’m lowering my expectations a tad and cheering for Xander, the former world No 2 (currently No3) and Olympic champion in 2020, this week.
This week’s featured image – the wee pic that appears at the top of the piece, technical glitches permitting – was taken in a Jamaican restaurant near the Alexandra Theatre in Birmingham and made me think of sun, sea and sand, so it’s a random pick of a pic; a bit of a rum do, if you like…
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