This was not to be a bad day but a comical moment only the blind could serve up. Our pre-season training day was on the way with our group given the task of practicing our approach shots, “great” I thought, I liked this task. So to set the scene we were 70 yards from the green, six of us spread across the fairway ready to hit our approach shots with a bucket of golf balls by our side. Many shots went by and my swing was not right coming off the toe, I was about to say to my wife to call over the golf-pro to see if he could help me fix the problem when I heard him beside me with the next golfer.

The next shot I took was one I still laugh out loud about to this day… The pro was barking orders to the near deaf blind golfer to my right and I was soon to find out was about 5 yards in front of me – a silly position around blind golfers. Next came my poor swing, thrusting towards to ball once again to come off the toe of the club only this time to land right in the centre of the shoulder blades of the poor coach. He of course yelped out “OUCHHH” in pain followed by a delayed scream from my almost unbelieving wife “ARGHH, BILLY! YOU HIT THE COACH!” I replied “Oops sorry, bit of a slice”. The coach, both wounded and pissed off said “let’s fix your slice”, though I thought it was a perfect fade... I did buy the coach a drink later; I think it was a gin and tonic with ice and SLICE.

The comedy followed on at meal time, which at a blind event is always a recipe for disaster. So, picture this.. 40 blind men and ladies in a restaurant with their guide dogs having a pre meal glass of wine, music playing softly in the back ground, conversation polite, sounds lovely doesn’t it? Well... out come the starters which just so happens to be chicken wings with dip. Now at home I’m almost certain everyone would behave in an animalistic way and avoid the cutlery at all costs but as it was a posh restaurant we did make an attempt at least. Well my first attempt at cutting the meat resulted in the wings flying off the table onto the lap of a female guide in a light coloured dress... Oops. This was followed by more of the same making it look as the birds were flying off for the summer. After realising we were all struggling we decided to go medieval and rip the remains of the meat off with our hands and just took a guess at what dip we might like.. and where on earth on the table it might be.

Next came the main meal, rib eyed… yes rib eyed beef.. with slow new potatoes and veg.. Now I like vegetables as much as the next guy but garden peas? Garden f***ing peas for a bunch of blind people? I knew this was going to be a game and a half of chase the bleeding peas.

And so it went, 40 blind men and women chasing garden peas around their plates, you might as well have given us soup with chopsticks! They say a dog is man’s best friend, even more so when it’s a guide dog, I’m not bloody surprised when they get to sit below a table of blind people! They proceeded to get a full roast dinner with meat, potatoes and those bloody garden peas, roaming around under the table hovering up everything we had managed to drop. All they needed was a little gravy... which normally is not far away.  

After the dogs had enjoyed a lovely meal and we all sat there starving hungry still, the option now is to intake beer and wine on an empty stomach. Everyone knows alcohol gets the conversation flowing but given that we have no idea if anyone is listening or talking to you, or if there is even anyone beside you.. it tends to end up a very loud room with people babbling on anyway in the hope someone might reply and hold a conversation. When you’re head hurts enough, its then time for bed though you can never get straight off to sleep... you tend to be up and down answering the door to other blind people who are banging on your door thinking it’s their own room. It’s usually a game of “guess the floor” when you are in the lift and pot luck if you get to right room. Normally you end up being told several times, “you’re downstairs”, “you’re on the other side of the hall” “no yours in the room next door” ... I only wanted some kip not a bloody treasure hunt!

All in all…the golf would be good and the season is on its way there….

                                

 
Here is a blog of my first few years as a blind golfer. This will include my events, my thoughts, and many silly situations… and trust me when you get 40 blind golfers in a small area anything can happen…

So I will try to be honest without offending, though the language may be industrial from time to time as being blind is a daily frustration.  My current aim is to get to the blind golf world championships in Australia in the early part of 2014 and achieve well in my ranking events in between.

Here goes…

THE ONE ABOUT THE BARMAN 6/3/2013

I knew today was not going to be good from the moment I woke up and got myself downstairs. It started in the kitchen, after dropping my medication all over the floor, I spent what felt like an eternity on all fours feeling my way around to find the four little bleeders. During this time I found a five pence piece, a piece of pizza from the night before, a hairband from daughter Gemma but not f***ing tablets. Cursing away with sore knees I finally came across 3 out of 4 of the tablets and decided that would be enough to keep me breathing. When getting up from the floor I thumped my head on the kitchen table which followed with a rather loud “FUCKKK” followed by the sound of a cup smashing that had fallen from the table that the thud from my bloody head managed to dislodge, as you can image this then induced more bad language and further searches around the floor for smashed bits of glass.

After sitting down for breakfast still enraged at having spent most of my morning on all fours searching for missing tablets and shards of glass I then proceeded to pour orange juice on my cornflakes as it was in an identical jug to the milk.

My John Cleese moment continued on the golf range, standing cold with a throbbing head from the morning’s adventures from which, I developed a bump on my head. The bump started out pea size then grew to the size of a golf ball to end as a great fecking great tennis ball on my front lobe, making me look like a part from the Elephant man.  Sam my patient coach brought out us both coffee to go but after hitting a few balls I walked backward only to kick over my coffee… no not sams…mine. I thought “feck this let’s get on the course”, so off we went. After 7 holes the wind and rain made my testicles blue, my lips bluer and my language the bluest.  From hole 7 I could smell the wonderful aroma coming from inside the clubhouse.  All golfers love bacon from there and that was a sign and the sign was heeded.

Now before I tell you of my continued attempt to swear for an entire day I need to digress.. never go anywhere with a group of more than 4 blind people at once.. that’s all I am saying for now.

This may sound like the start of a corny joke but bear with me. So, 4 blind people at the bar the bar man said “can I help you sir?”, well much to his surprise and definite confusion, he got a reply from us all asking for a variety of orders at once, “sorry sir I am talking to you with the red jumper”.  Well we all turned clockwise and anti-clockwise blind guiding canes crossing like Darth Vader on a mission with his light saber. This of course was followed by a large echoing of the words “who is wearing a red jumper?” … it must of looked like a group of sperm in a test tube looking for guidance to the promised land. Realising he was about to get nowhere fast, the barman gave us guidance with a disgruntled reply of “the one with the glasses” and apparently a clutch of an arm on the red-wearing jumperman who was wearing glasses and (what I would imagine to be) a now a startled expression.

Day two of our event would get better but not before a few cracks on my kneecap bouncing off the low coffe table in the lounge…. You get the jist…

 
Just a quick update, my sponsor day for the blind world championships is at the Bedford Golf Club this Friday 8th March and begins at 10am. All are welcome to attend - come and watch the blind man bump into things.... see you there.. well maybe not.. but I'll hear you!