Driving Range

2011 has brought with it a range of new hobbies.  Some of them, golf, have entirely shallow roots - in this case, career advancement.  Phase one of my foray into golf is a weekly trip to the driving range.

I can already tell that assimilating myself into golfing culture is going to take some serious humility, and not exclusively because I'm clueless.  Rather, the staff at the Mercedes Benz Driving Range in Nahoon (East London) have an unfortunate manner.

But the wheel turns.  One minute you're being cheeky, the next you're standing 100m away from me picking up balls... hovering in my kill zone.

Ironically, and not entirely surprisingly, it was the act of backing off on the power a bit - to avoid hitting the ball collector - which allowed me to hit a beauty thath ended in him dishing out a birdie of his own.

My pride, and skulls, in tact... I left feeling positive - a massive improvement on last weekend's visit to the range.