The wind was blowing up a gale over the sky at Royal Troon. Skip Kendall stood marooned in the bunker at the 7th. His partner, meanwhile, Ernie Els, stood leaning on his putter, looking smug in saddle shoes and khaki slacks.
Ernie, of course, had been doing nothing but birdies for the last four holes. While Skip was struggling to remain on par.
Careful now. Mustn't mess things up even further. He flipped up the sunshades on his specs and squinted into the clouds. Above his head, the waving grasses of the edge of the rough beckoned mockingly. Underfoot, scrunching at the edges of his two-tone oxfords, the sands of mortification.
He hefted the club in his hand. The iron 8. Or should he have picked the wood? Too late. A plane screeched past overhead, and he made dust swirl up into his sleeveless knitwear.
But later, at the 15th, when Nick and Greg and Vijay had all finished the round and inched up and down the leader board, and when Tiger was being roared at by cheering crowds at the 12th, and with the lag all wrong and the wind sheer a bitch, later, Ernie came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder and, man to man, said in a low voice,
"Showers again? As last year?"
So then he stopped caring about all of that, and what do you know? Finished three under par.
Walked towards the club house. Barely heard the audience storm. Felt the iron in his palm and the iron in his pleated trousers. Looked over at Ern.
No sand on his shoes now.
17 July 2004
Pics:
Skip Kendall (*swoons over the name!*):

Ernie Els (those lips!!):

Tiger Woods (need I justify swoonage?):

Greg Norman (that hat!):

Vijay Singh (oh, the physique of the man!):

Nick Faldo, my favourite Harrison-Ford-lookalike (oh, check out the knitwear!):

And because he's my favourite, here he is again (so rough! so gruff!):

(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 06:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 07:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 06:37 pm (UTC)Golf pics without Ian Poulter?! But the co-ordination of colours!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 07:34 pm (UTC)Thank you for this pic!!
Yes, and it is a bit of a dad's sport, isn't it? Mine used to *play* (very badly). But as I am now of a sort of daddish age myself, I'm starting to see the charm of all those soft bellies and that sensible footwear!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-18 05:46 pm (UTC)Thankfully am nowhere near a daddish age *laughs* I only watch the golf if I can't be bothered to do anything - like writing fics. (Oops)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-18 06:03 pm (UTC)What do you mean 'thankfully'???!!!!
Oi!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-18 06:12 pm (UTC)It would just mean I'd have had a huge memory loss if I suddenly found I was my dad's age!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 09:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-07-17 09:14 pm (UTC)I could write a disquisition on the headwear alone: visor? hat? baseball cap? nothing but shades?
Or the choice of shoes: saddle? black leather, scuffed?
And just wait until it's a cold day and they pull out their long-sleeved diamond-patterned woolly jumpers...!!!!
I'm telling you: golf - heaven for the sartorial minded.