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My son and I had the practice green to ourselves, since there was a gale blowing, and all the sane people were nesting in the club house. I was five metres from the hole, and my first putt missed by just centimetres; but then was caught by a gust of wind, and rolled and rolled, until it ended up ten metres from the hole on the other side. Golf is a cruel game.
I thought that not even the apostle Paul suffered such indignity. When the ship carrying him to Rome was caught by that ferocious Northeaster, and pushed him from Crete to Malta, at least he was travelling toward the hole of Rome, instead of going past it and having to sail back. But then I shouldn’t complain. His putt included fasting, despair among the sailors, and shipwreck at the end. And my mine just included some dented pride.
Still, there must be a rule in the book of golf to address such unjust situations as wind interference. But no – the rules just say to putt toward the hole. Which, is what that Apostle did, and said: Forgetting what’s behind, and squarely facing what’s ahead, I press on toward the goal. And so I bit my wind-chapped lip, addressed the ball, and kept putting until the ball was safely nestled at the bottom of the cup. And so in life, when buffeted by ill-winds, what else to do, but to persevere and putt toward the hole.
DM 26th November 2022