West Coast Golf Club

Course Tuart Competition Stableford
Conditions Sunny Players 19 members

Results:
Name Gross Net Points
1st Darren Lloyd 75 71 35
2nd Tom McClain 81 72 34
3rd Graham Guy 88 73 33
on c/b from John Campbell 87 73 33
and Richard Dongray 93 73 33

Best Gross Darren Lloyd 75
Best Nine Tom McClain 20

Handicap changes: -1 David Hayes, +1 Graham Guy, Alex Smith

Next fixture: Friday 15 May –- Par Plus on the Tuart Course – see email for start times

Fields for Monday 11th
Start time Group
9.00 J Campbell, Alex Smith, N Sapsworth, B Morrison
9.08 R Russell, G Guy, R Hopkins, G McHarrie
9.16 D Lloyd, T McClain, R Dongray, G Gillett.
9.24 M Spencer, M Kimbar, B Hills, G Irvine
9.32 J Stone, R Bensky, D Hayes

Fields for Friday 15th
9.00 C Colli, J Stone, R Bensky, D Hayes
9.08 M Spencer, A Smith, C Wynne, R Russell
9.16 G Irvine, G Guy, G Gillett, J Allen
9.24 T McClain, G McHarrie, R Dongray, B Morrison
9.32 B Hopkins, G Saunders, M Kimbar, B Hills

See email to members about applicable rules.

Poet unknown but thanks anyway and to David Morrell who provided it –

In my hand I hold a ball,
White and dimpled, and rather small.
Oh, how bland it does appear,
This harmless looking little sphere.

By its size I could not guess
The awesome strength it does possess.
But since I fell beneath its spell,
I’ve wandered through the fires of hell.

My life has not been quite the same,
Since I chose to play this stupid game.
It rules my mind for hours on end,
A fortune it has made me spend.

It has made me curse and made me cry,
And hate myself and want to die.
It promises me a thing called Par,
If I hit it straight and far.

To master such a tiny ball,
Should not be very hard at all.
But my desires the ball refuses,
And does exactly as it chooses.

It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies,
And disappears before my eyes.
Often it will have a whim,
To hit a tree or take swim.

With miles of grass on which to land,
It finds a tiny patch of sand.
Then has me offering up my soul,
If only it would find the hole.

It’s made me whimper like a pup,
And swear that I will give it up.
And take to drink to ease my sorrow,
But the ball knows…. I’ll be back tomorrow.