Modena Golf and Country ClubPromised the Hub that I would start learning how to play golf come Spring. So this morning I dragged myself to the Golf Club opposite the house and started hitting balls with a N°7 club. My instructor is a long-haired lecherous-looking chain-smoking Italian guy. But he could speak some French. Another occasion not to practise my Italian.
I was lucky the weather was great this afternoon. The land where the golf now is used to belong to our landlord. In the past there probably wasn't the road between the 2 parcels of land. Anyway, the old landlord got money and shares out of the sale - another example of how the Italians in these parts got really rich through their land that didn't use to be worth much. And this Golf is now one of the best in the world - or so I was told.
I managed to find a pair of decent-looking pants that sort of fitted and my old pair of Puma shoes - no way I would be allowed to turn up in my old jeans and sweater according to Hub. Golf Clubs have strict dress codes and in this particular one you'll be rubbing shoulders (or sticks) with the rich and famous in Modena. Or at least those who needn't labour at 2 in the afternoon.
I did see a lady in a pair of jeans - but it was an Armani. Otherwise almost everyone was in Polo Ralph Lauren, Burberry or Hilfiger. Which made me regret my easy access to the Polo and Hilfiger stores in Stuttgart, and the fact that I didn't buy that pair of Armani jeans during the last Sale because I was a cheapskate. Do not get me wrong, I have tonnes of clothes - only I can't fit into them any more. I have been optimistic for more than a year now that I would lose those 10 Kgs but of course I've only been piling more on.
I've bought a golf glove at Decathlon a few weeks ago but of course I couldn't find it now. Never find anything when I need it - it's classic. Thank God the Golf Club has a little shop so I bought another one there.
All set for playing, and of course I didn't have Hub's key that would allow me to rent the yellow golf balls. No problem, long-haired instructor got some rich guy practising his swing to sponsor a few balls. And the rich guy was so cool he kept reassuring us that it wasn't any problem. It's Hub's fault - he should have thought of passing me his key for now I look and feel like a freeloader.
PracticeLearning how to play golf is embarrassing. Half the time you either didn't hit the ball or if you did, it would just bounce a few metres to your left. I dread to think that in addition to getting the position, swing etc right, I still have to learn about all those clubs in the usual golf bag. Plus pass some exam. But well, since I've started it, I had better get on with it.
I can't stop laughing at the description of your golf instructor! I can't make fun of mine - he's been playing since he was 9 and is a pro, member of the PGA and all.
RépondreSupprimerI started lessons more than a month ago too. And it was only the last lesson (#6) that I enjoyed it, maybe because I finally grasped the concept somewhat. It's a hard game to learn though. Does your instructor emphasize on your grip? Mine's practically nazi-like about it but he's good and very patient because I'm not exactly sports inclined. I can navigate needle and thread through the most tightly woven fabric but can't hit a golf ball right in front of me.
As for the clothing and shoes, I went to Nike Golf and got myself outfitted there. I'm not buying the clubs yet until later, when I get a better feel for the game.
Mine's a Pro surely but it still doesn't change the fact that he looks lecherous etc. The other golf instructor in the club (Hub's and Eldest Son's instructor) actually instructs the Italian Golf Team.
RépondreSupprimerBut I started with this one and feel bad about changing (because of his hair?) so I'll try to stick to him.
Meanwhile about the grip now that you've mentioned it he did seem quite fussy about it. Also my knees, back, rotation, what I look at etc. But I'm no good at such things, look out for one forgot the others already.
RépondreSupprimerThought golf instructor's job's quite easy though, he spent his time bending down to put ball at my feet. 30 euros for 30 minutes just like that!
I loved the phrase "Another occasion not to practise my Italian..." - As expats, isn't that sooo how we live our lives!
RépondreSupprimerFunny blog today! I always enjoy popping over to your site to read your latest waunderings and ponderings.
Toma