Day 2 arrives, well rested, alarm goes off at 6am, Blisters wakes up says he has slept so well he is taking the bed home. Then true to form, he goes for a shit. God, this bloke goes so much it’s unreal.
He starts sending text messages to Stickers and Singlets, I mention that it’s 4:30am at home, he doesn’t seem to care, sends it anyway then has a little snigger to himself. Fuck me, no wonder people don’t like him.
Breakfast done, all good, taxi to the Royal Samoan Country Club. Not sure what to expect, as we drive in the chook wire gates with barbed wire on top, I can see even though my expectations were low to start with, the reality is lower again, what a goat track, glad it’s only a practice round, sponsor pro am, then 3 rounds, fuck me. We load it up shortly after arriving and get to the first tee, it’s only 45 degrees, this should be a treat, I’m sweating like a farm animal already.
The first hole is a par 5, I ask Blisters where it goes, “straight down there” he says. There is a massive fucking tree in the middle of the fairway, 100 yards off the tee. This is a fucking joke surely, I’m looking for the hidden camera. I hit a good drive through the gap between the trees on the right hand side, it’s just over the width of the ball, made it through. Birdie the first by holing a 12 footer on the arguably the worst green I have ever putted on.
Blisters is driving the cart and I have finally found a worst fucking driver that Stickers, it’s fucking painful how slow he goes and that he continues to hit every bump. 3rd hole Blisters hit is in the bunga, foot wedges it out, flubs it short, gets it on and a couple of putts. Announces he had a 5, a bogey. I ask if that is true, he calls the kick out GUR, no it’s not marked, calls it anyway. Play a few more holes and may I say, I have now found a worst green than the first, it’s the second, third, fourth, fifth and seventh, highlight of the round so far has been Shooters ball striking and the 6th green. The 6th was running 3 on the stimp. Fucking Pure.
8th hole, Blisters tells me to bring driver as you have to leave your clubs 80 meters away. I get to the tee and work out it’s a 4 iron, Old fuck has done this on purpose I am sure, he says no. Shooter hits a chip driver, pull it and have no idea where it goes. I am sure I heard the old fuck laugh.
Find it in the fairway, Blisters hates it. Then the cart dies, flat as a fucking maggot, Blisters goes off, what a week this is becoming. It’s only 50 degrees now, I unstrap my bag and start walking up the hill, fuck it’s hot, I’m blowing harder than phar lap.
Blisters is still sitting in the dead cart yelling out ‘help’ for whatever fucking good that will do. Fuck it must be bad getting old. I flag down a guy on a tractor and let him know the cart is fucked, he says ‘which one ?’ ‘The one down there with the old fucker still in it. New one comes out, we are away again.
Blisters makes birdie up 9 after hitting his best shots for the day, then says he is 1 back now. I didn’t know we were having a match, I ask Blisters about the match that we are apparently having, he assures me we were always having a match. I say ok. Now I know we are on the same page.
I almost hit one OOB on 11 after driving it in the front bunker of 10, Blisters is rubbing his hands together, then flubs a chip. I think he is 1 back or maybe tied now, Shooter birdies the next and then pars a couple before making birdie on 16 to Blisters double bogey 7. I now think he is fucked, he concedes on 17 tee.
Par 3, playing 167 mtrs downwind, Blisters hits and flushes 3 wood to 15 feet, almost the best shot he has hit all day, Shooter hit 7 iron to 4 feet. Old Fuck has tried his best.
Shooter almost drives it on 18, the 3 footer slides, or I should say bounces by, sign for -2, Blisters birdies the last for +3 he says, looked more like 84 from where I was sitting.
I continue to play well on practice days and when it means nothing, smashing up Blisters is nothing new these days. Just a matter of time for The Shooter to take this to the tour rounds.
Practice round Shooter out.