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    More Agonising Golf
    More Agonising Golf
    More Agonising Golf
    Ebook120 pages1 hour

    More Agonising Golf

    By Kay Wall

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    About this ebook

    Golf's premier agony aunt/coach, Ms Kallas-Way, returns to answer more questions you're too embarrassed to ask your pro, such as "One of our members suffers from multiple personality disorder, so which personality's handicap does she play off?"
    The book also follows Ms Kallas-Way's progression through Q-School in America where she attempts to introduce the Kallas-Way method of golf.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKay Wall
    Release dateMar 4, 2012
    ISBN9781466064614
    More Agonising Golf
    Author

    Kay Wall

    Humour writer/cartoonist. Specialises in golf humour. Designs golf humour calendars and tee shirts.

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      Book preview

      More Agonising Golf - Kay Wall

      MORE AGONISING GOLF

      Golf’s premier agony aunt, Ms Kallas-Way, answers more of those questions you’re too embarrassed to ask your pro.

      By Kay Wall

      Copyright Kay Wall 2012

      Published at Smashwords.

      FOREWORD

      My instructional YouTube videoclips and ebook ‘Agonising Golf’ have helped many struggling golfers, worldwide, but the number of queries I’m still receiving indicate that another volume is due. As golf’s premier agony aunt/teacher, it is my duty to guide the misguided, teach the unteachable and clarify the buttered.

      A book dealing solely with problems can be depressing, especially to those struggling to reduce their handicap, so each chapter will start with an uplifting biographical piece which reinforces my credentials and illustrates my commitment to helping the less fortunate.

      This book will cover that period of my life in which I attended Q-School and the LPGA tour.

      CHAPTER 1

      Those who’ve followed my career know that at the age of 20 I’d discovered that the only relationship that mattered in my life was the one I had with golf. The Game provides a strong, ethical framework for humanity, and this book provides an indispensable guide for those troubled souls wandering life’s fairways.

      Having decided that my golf clubs would be my lifelong chief companions, I knew I had to test that relationship on the world’s toughest stage, the USPGA.

      Unfortunately, in those days, the PGA wouldn’t allow a woman to play on the men’s tour. They pointed me in the direction of the LPGA, who sent me an application for Q-School, to which I was accepted.

      I insisted on buying a plane ticket for my clubs so I could keep them next to me. I’d heard such horror stories about baggage handlers, most of whom are non-golfers so don’t understand the care needed when transporting clubs. (This was pre-terrorism days, when you could carry just about anything on board.) Desperate to avoid deep-vein thrombosis, I stood up every hour and had a few practise shots up and down the aisle.

      It proved a little tricky with the food trolleys, as the hostesses didn’t believe me when I said I could pitch the ball over them and get such backspin that the pilot would be in no danger. Unfortunately, I forgot to take into account the effect of the high altitude, but as it was merely the co-pilot I put into a coma, I think they over-reacted when confiscating my clubs.

      The flight from New Zealand to the USA took 24 hours and I’d had little sleep when I stepped on to the practice green at the course where my first Q-School event took place. A large officious lady bustled over and handed me a list of rules and regulations. The first one was ‘All competitors must use carts’.

      I grabbed the lady’s elbow as she turned to leave. Carts? I pointed at the piece of paper. Carts! Surely you jest.

      Jest what?

      Jest!

      What did I jest do? What are you going on about?

      Real golfers would never use a cart! They upset natural rhythm. You can’t be serious!

      The lady stared me up and down and peered at my name tag. Ms Kallas-Way, she muttered. Hmph, thought it might be McEnroe. She sighed. Either use the cart, or go home.

      So much for legendary southern hospitality, I thought. Bobby Jones would be horrified.

      I loaded my clubs and waited for the other golfer with whom I had to share transportation. And waited, and waited, and waited. One minute before our tee time, a dishevelled blond raced out of the locker room, observed that I had the last cart and ran up to it, dumping her gear on the back. She plumped down in the passenger seat.

      Hit it, she barked, tying up her shoe laces.

      We’re not on the tee. I’m not getting a two-shot penalty for hitting out of the teeing ground.

      The accelerator, you dope. She peered at me as we set off. I’m Jane. Where on earth did you get those weird clothes? She plucked at my left sleeve.

      I made them. The left gusset is bigger than the right so that my backswing is unrestricted. I lowered my voice. My shorts are extra baggy for unrestricted leg movement and so that I can fit more sponsors on them. I looked around to make sure no one could overhear me. I’m going to take my patterns to a golf clothing manufacturer. There’s nothing like this on the market.

      You’re kidding me, said Jane. She shuffled to the far side of the seat. You’re not from around here, are you?

      New Zealand, I smiled. Cheapest golf country in the world. Absolutely anyone from any walk of life can play.

      I have no trouble believing that, said Jane. None at all.

      * * *

      This leads us neatly into our first problem. Judging someone by the clothes they wear, or their choice of jewellery, can be a hard habit to break. But there may be a legitimate reason for someone’s unorthodox appearance. Our first correspondent, Don’t Ever Ring Me Again, is a good example of someone jumping to the wrong conclusion.

      Dear Ms Kallas-Way

      Several weeks ago at the 19th hole, my golf mates and I got talking about body piercing. My mates reckoned real men don’t wear rings so I told them that pierced nipples are a great golfing aid. Chain the nipple ring to the top of the sleeve seam and you’ll never have an ‘all arms’ swing again. Half a bottle of scotch later, out came a needle and my nipples.

      Don’t believe that alcohol is an effective anaesthetic! As the needle skewered my nipple to the bar, I sobered up completely. The trouble is, my nipple is still swollen and it seems to have affected my balance. Should I get the other one done, to even things up?

      Dear RING

      Of course you should. And also put a ring through your nose so you can have a chain running from it to your nipple rings. You’ll find this prevents you from lifting your head too soon. I advise you not to pierce anything lower. Sometimes the problem is preferable to the solution.

      * * *

      Too many people see ‘differences’ as a problem (whether it’s lifestyle, religion, or golf swings) rather than part of life’s great layout. Our next worrier, Is The Difference Too Great, needs to trust her judgement. (Working on long putts will help this.)

      Dear Ms Kallas-Way

      For eight months I have regularly been playing a round with a new guy. He’s on a 10 and I’m on a 28, steadily increasing, but the difference in numbers doesn’t matter to us. Yeah, say my friends, it’s not so noticeable now, but what about in 20 years when you’re on a 40 and he’ll still be low teens? It’ll never last, 18 shots is just too wide a gap. Fonteyne tells me to ignore them, but I know they snigger and talk behind our trundlers. The snide remarks are ruining my enjoyment of the game. I’m desperate for your advice!

      Dear DIFFERENCE

      What is it with this lack of calcium and sagging spines? I blame it all on the day they stopped giving kids free milk at school. For goodness sake, your handicaps are irrelevant. Fonteyne obviously sees beyond your fluffs, duffs, shanks, tops and three-putts. (Are you sure it’s the handicap difference people are sniggering about?)

      * * *

      Can Physiognomy Provide Solutions To My Air Shots is one of many gullible twits who takes seriously anything she reads on the Internet. Readers, you must remember, not every golf website is written by someone of honesty and candour. If it doesn’t have my name on it, always be suspicious.

      Dear Ms Kallas-Way

      I have tried absolutely everything to stop having air shots. Golf lessons, video lessons, hypnotherapy, even re-birthing beside the first tee of our course.

      Nothing works.

      And then I found a site on the Internet which said that if I sent four photos of my shaved head (front, two sides and back) and $500 to Madame Po-face, all my golfing woes would be solved. The internationally renowned Madame Po-face will interpret my physiognomy [head shape, particularly lumps and bumps] and tell me exactly what to do.

      She says she has an extensive library of golfers’ headshots cataloguing a whole host of swing problems. So naturally I rushed out to the supermarket and bought a few razors so I could shave my head. (I can’t afford a hairdresser as all my money’s needed for Madame Po.)

      Unfortunately, I’m short-sighted and I cut my head shaving and then bumped into the mirror so there are all sorts of lumps and bumps and scratches on my head that normally aren’t there.

      Will I have to wait until my head returns to its normal shape (by which stage my hair will have grown and I’ll need to repeat the process) or will she be able to ‘read between the lines’ as it were?

      Dear PHYSIOGNOMY

      Physiognomy was exposed as a fraud early last century. The only thing that bumps, lumps and scratches on a golfer’s face will tell you is that they spend a lot of time playing recovery shots

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