still occurred, but those who used it now did so with discretion and not a little guile. For example when putting his name down for a club competition a golfer prone to using the odd swear word would ensure that he chose a starting time well away from that chosen by Mr Captain, thus giving himself the best possible chance of not being overheard if and when an errant swear word should accidentally pop out, which it is almost bound to, golf being golf.
After a final glance in the mirror Mr Captain breathed a contented sigh, pecked his wife on the cheek goodbye and left for the golf club to enjoy to the full his Captain’s Day.
8.30 a.m.
D Bagley (8)
G Chapman (9)
A Arbuthnott (11)
Shortly before 8.30 Mr Captain took up position beside the first tee. From there he would greet and see safely on their way each group of three golfers at the commencement of their round. Once the first threesome had reached the ninth green his intention was to operate between the first tee and the beer tent, still attending to his welcoming duties at the first tee whilst making time to enquire of each threesome what was their pleasure when they arrived at the beer tent after completing the ninth hole, and ensuring that their pleasure stopped at one drink.
The first threesome of the day, consisting of regular playing partners Des Bagley, Gerry Chapman and Andrew Arbuthnott, was now making its way leisurely to the first tee. All three golfers were looking forward to their round of golf, but especially so Arbuthnott, who felt in his water that this could well be the day he returned a winning card, and now said as much to the others.
“ Your optimism knows no bounds, Andrew,” observed Bagley, on hearing Arbuthnott's hopeful prognostication.
“ No I can really sense it, Baggers. It was there the moment I woke up this morning, a sort of gut feeling, and it's been there ever since.”
“ Probably indigestion,” said Chapman. “I think I’ve got some Alka-Seltzer tablets in my bag if you’d like a couple.”
Arbuthnott shook his head. “Not indigestion Gerry. Just the deep conviction that I’m going to pull it off today.”
“ Arby you haven’t won a competition in years, and even then it wasn’t one of any account, why should today be any different?” reasoned Chapman, forever the pragmatist.
“ No I always play well on Captain's Day,” Arbuthnott insisted. “I was well in the running last year until I had that disaster at the sixteenth. The big occasion seems to bring out the best in me. And I'm really up for it this year; get the name of Andrew Arbuthnott up in gold at last.”
Arbuthnott wanted to see his name on one of the roll of honour boards displayed in the clubhouse in tribute to the winners of major competitions almost as much as Henry Fridlington wanted his Captain’s Day to be a huge success. His father had won the President’s Putter competition and his father before him had triumphed in the Anderson Bowl and Arbuthnott felt he was letting the family name down by not being the third generation of the Arbuthnott dynasty to be so honoured.
“ The only way you're ever going to get your name up in gold Arby is if you buy a shop and get a sign writer to write it over the top,” said Chapman, with an air of cruel certainty that now caused doubt to enter Arbuthnott's mind for the first time that day.
“ You'll see, Gerry, you’ll see,” said Arbuthnott, turning away and cutting short the conversation lest Chapman should say anything else that might sow a seed of doubt in his mind.
Although Mr Captain was undoubtedly the most unpopular captain there had ever been in the history of Sunnymere Golf Club the entire membership of the club treated him with due deference. The only person who had not shown the captain this respect, a member not only new to the club but also new to the game of golf, and who obviously wasn't aware of golf club protocol, had very quickly been informed that it is the position of Mr
After a final glance in the mirror Mr Captain breathed a contented sigh, pecked his wife on the cheek goodbye and left for the golf club to enjoy to the full his Captain’s Day.
8.30 a.m.
D Bagley (8)
G Chapman (9)
A Arbuthnott (11)
Shortly before 8.30 Mr Captain took up position beside the first tee. From there he would greet and see safely on their way each group of three golfers at the commencement of their round. Once the first threesome had reached the ninth green his intention was to operate between the first tee and the beer tent, still attending to his welcoming duties at the first tee whilst making time to enquire of each threesome what was their pleasure when they arrived at the beer tent after completing the ninth hole, and ensuring that their pleasure stopped at one drink.
The first threesome of the day, consisting of regular playing partners Des Bagley, Gerry Chapman and Andrew Arbuthnott, was now making its way leisurely to the first tee. All three golfers were looking forward to their round of golf, but especially so Arbuthnott, who felt in his water that this could well be the day he returned a winning card, and now said as much to the others.
“ Your optimism knows no bounds, Andrew,” observed Bagley, on hearing Arbuthnott's hopeful prognostication.
“ No I can really sense it, Baggers. It was there the moment I woke up this morning, a sort of gut feeling, and it's been there ever since.”
“ Probably indigestion,” said Chapman. “I think I’ve got some Alka-Seltzer tablets in my bag if you’d like a couple.”
Arbuthnott shook his head. “Not indigestion Gerry. Just the deep conviction that I’m going to pull it off today.”
“ Arby you haven’t won a competition in years, and even then it wasn’t one of any account, why should today be any different?” reasoned Chapman, forever the pragmatist.
“ No I always play well on Captain's Day,” Arbuthnott insisted. “I was well in the running last year until I had that disaster at the sixteenth. The big occasion seems to bring out the best in me. And I'm really up for it this year; get the name of Andrew Arbuthnott up in gold at last.”
Arbuthnott wanted to see his name on one of the roll of honour boards displayed in the clubhouse in tribute to the winners of major competitions almost as much as Henry Fridlington wanted his Captain’s Day to be a huge success. His father had won the President’s Putter competition and his father before him had triumphed in the Anderson Bowl and Arbuthnott felt he was letting the family name down by not being the third generation of the Arbuthnott dynasty to be so honoured.
“ The only way you're ever going to get your name up in gold Arby is if you buy a shop and get a sign writer to write it over the top,” said Chapman, with an air of cruel certainty that now caused doubt to enter Arbuthnott's mind for the first time that day.
“ You'll see, Gerry, you’ll see,” said Arbuthnott, turning away and cutting short the conversation lest Chapman should say anything else that might sow a seed of doubt in his mind.
Although Mr Captain was undoubtedly the most unpopular captain there had ever been in the history of Sunnymere Golf Club the entire membership of the club treated him with due deference. The only person who had not shown the captain this respect, a member not only new to the club but also new to the game of golf, and who obviously wasn't aware of golf club protocol, had very quickly been informed that it is the position of Mr
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