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Shooter Tour Report – Fiji Leg


What have we come to expect from Fiji, nothing works, everything is never fixed properly, its fixed just enough, the hotel rooms are $100,000 per night, a beer is $15, wifi is patchy at best and must be run by a hamster in a wheel, if it’s not as humid as fuck its raining like a fucking rain forest which only makes it more humid. Why do I continue to do this to myself.

Bula my fucking ass.

Check in to the hotel at 3:30pm, room not ready Sir, “ok, I thought check in was 3pm” Housekeeping still in the room. Ok, what choice have I got. I go off to the Skid Marc Ass’s room for a while until the room is ready. 5:15pm, call reception, “you want to check in Sir” “no, I want to see if my room is ready” “when did you check in” “2 hours ago, I am waiting for housekeeping to finish my room” “housekeeping still in room Sir” “how do you know, I haven’t told you what room or my name yet, never mind, I will come up to reception”

Arrive at reception, I would like to check in, my room number is 2628. “housekeeping is in the room” “no they aren’t, I have been in the room next door for 2 hours and housekeeping are not there” “they say they are”

Oh, For Fucks Sake, they aren’t there, they haven’t been there for an hour, just give me the fucking keys. Looks like we are off to a normal Fiji day.

Practice round Monday, Natadola, what would you know, greens have been verti cut, ball is tracking up the cut lines and if you are unfortunate enough to have to putt across them you will have to get the third bounce to go straight to hole anything.

Ahhhh Fiji.

Hit it great, weather was very good, perhaps the best conditions I have played in out there, double bogey 2, this is starting well, hit a ball in the piss on 12, birdie last 3 for 71, bring on the tournament.

Tournament Day 1: Its fucking hosing down, play delayed for 2 hours because the greens are under water and the wind is blowing the hail sideways, sunny Fiji, Fuck me. We get sent out to hit off at 12. Start on 10, directly into the teeth of the gale, starts raining again on 11, that’s ok, its only 600 meters into the hurricane and now rain, oh fucking joy.

Play great until I hit it in greenside trap on 18, got it out and 3 whack it for double. Feel a little like I have had a coconut rammed up me for no reason.

Half way, lunch is ready, looks great, grey burger patty with juice or oil or something dripping off it, looks so good. The worst thing is that’s the best option. Wash it down with some Sprite. Feel like I now have a brick in my stomach.

Hit it to 5 feet on 1, didn’t get a lip, pulled a drive 10 yards on 3, hits a hard patch bounces hard left. That’s fucked is the call on the tee. Find it next to 4 goats, I am sure one of them has taken a bite out of it, penalty drop, flub it in the bunker, miss putt, double. Get to 6, Jurassic Park hole, flush the driver, oh fuck me go, 280 to get it past the trap, lands and runs 4 meters. Perfect, got 5 iron in, blade the fuck out of it pin high right, flub flub putt putt, great bogey, fuck off. Bogey 9 from 83 meters and sign for a disappointing 78. Just as well we have the easy course the next 2 days.

Day 2: Denarau, still some of the worst greens in the Pacific but they are getting better. 9am start and its already 93% humidity. Bogey 1 from the vege patch right of 10, birdie 2, then the train derailed. Started hitting shots that I didn’t recognise, missing greens, flubbing chips. The head exploded around the 3rd hole when I had 153 and hit an 8 iron into the greenside trap, loving a short sided bunker shot like I do, I bladed it to 15 feet past the hole, not a bad result. Hit a downhill putt to 4 inches short, the tap in from 4 inches hit the lip and spun out to 1 inch. WOW, now its getting real. Fuck me.

The GP, in the cart wasn’t game to say anything, my attitude has taken a drastic turn for the worse. Finish the day with 79 and cant reconcile how I can play so good one day and so shit the next. Welcome to the Tour.

Day 3: Today I decide to hit a few balls on the range to loosen up the old bones, fuck me, why, after 30 balls I am in a lather of sweat and breathing a bit more shallow, maybe the grey burger has come back to hurt me, I dare not fart. Seeded draw, almost first off, dew kickers of the world unite. Some good shots early, bogey 13 after a decel pull from 6 feet. Knife a 3 wood on 14 to make 6, hit a beautiful pitch from 56 on 16 that lands on a fucking road painted green to resemble a green to make 4, chip it in from over the back of 17 and then 3 putt 18 to turn 2 over. Jesus H Christ, its fucking groundhog day.

Start the front better par 1, 2, 3, 4 birdie 5, bogey 6, 3 putt 7 for bogie, have a 16 footer on 8 that goes right to left uphill, I leave the flag in, hit a great putt, rolling perfectly, hit the flag and stays out, get fucked you new rule fuck. Cost me a shot right there.

Last hole, par 5, 9th. Flush the driver just short of water across the fairway, 185, front pin, got to cover the bunkers. Flush 5 iron, high, soaring, a thing of beauty. Lands on the green and rolls to the back edge 50 feet away. Casually 2 putt to shoot 74. Not a bad effort from the shit show the day before.

T27, cash a chq for $437.50. Bring on the OOM race now.

Cheque cashing Shooter out.


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