"Goff" drabbles by Neville Hunt
Involuntary castration
Goff #2
A good friend? One who doesn’t patronise you on the golf course. The mismatch that was my morning’s golf session meant I might be hugely embarrassed. I was beaten hands down, but never humiliated.
When I totted it up, I realised I had sacrificed four quality golf balls, a loss I couldn’t afford. Why, that meant no next golf outing for me, because it was hardly worth me buying half a dozen more new balls, to lose them all.
After the game, we left independently. I sneaked down the lane bordering the course to search... and got my balls back!
I don’t goff.
Goff #1
I played golf today. Well, that’s not strictly true. I was permitted to wield a club or two and try to connect with several small hard white spheres. My companion, Lewis, a man of impressive handicap, was most patient.
People don’t believe you haven’t wielded a club for over 25 years. But when I rolled up with my golf bag and trolley heaving with the weight of 25 years of dust, Lewis knew it to be true.
He was very kind, and encouraging. One particular challenging drive prompted this comment “Well at least you can see where it landed Neville!”
