I know what you were thinking, and RUDE. But actually, the swinging was totally kosher, the balls were golf balls, and the shaft was a golf club. So get your mind on the post.
That’s right, I went to a golfing event. After watching Larry David get so frustrated at his golf club – killing black swans and the like – I thought it would be a fun way to spend an evening. So hop on the Jubilee line I did, and amidst the crowds of 10-year-olds and their mothers heading over to One Direction’s last concert (thank goodness) at the O2 I wandered up to N1 Golf, an open-air driving range with stunning views over the Docklands.
The night was great, a chance to show off Monarch’s golfing locations, and although I gave it a good go, I have to say golf isn’t for me. Sure I hit the ball 70% of the time, and yes I inexplicably bruised my abductor pollicis brevis muscle (THE SQUIDGY THUMB PAD ON YOUR PALM), but I am firmly in the ‘If you’re a 50 year old accountant, you’ll love golf’ camp. Sadly an accountant I’m not. Nor am I in my 50s.
Still, the food was great and the champagne was flowing, and there were some cracking bloggers, such as the lovely Fran of FrannyMac whose golfing skills were just as good as mine. Scratch that, she did nearly end up getting the ball in one of the nets, so I see a career change on the cards. Definitely.