"Vine and Brown duked it out at the top
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The HOGS Medal QC13 arrived with all the urgency of a Sunday service bus. Once again the society of slow-motion swingers took to Hadden Hill, armed with trolleys, tee pegs, and more war stories than a History Channel marathon.
Div 1 was a tense standoff between Malcolm Vine and Alistair Brown, both carding gross 81s. Vine edged it nett-wise, but honestly, the only real battle was who could take longer to line up a three-foot putt. Third spot went to Mike Stevens with a 91 — the kind of number you achieve when you’re still putting with a hickory shaft you found in 1947.
Div 2 was where the real “entertainment” happened. Philip Roberts produced a nett 65, the lowest score anyone in the group has recorded since ration books were still a thing. Stanley Wallsgrove followed with a nett 66, pausing after every shot to complain about his hips. David Faragher rounded out the podium with a nett 67 and the look of a man who just remembered he left his gas fire on.
Then we get to the blow-ups. Ah, glorious chaos. Martin Boxall cemented his place in folklore with a 10 on Hole 13. That’s not a score, that’s a two-part documentary. They’re considering putting a blue plaque on the tee box: “Here stood Martin, and here he fell… repeatedly.” David Northover fired an 8 on the 2nd and a 9 on the last for good measure, proving consistency is not always a compliment. David Boucher pencilled a 9 on the 11th, while Bob Lucksford and Andrew Salisbury joined the “9 Club” with their own disasters. It’s less a medal competition, more a tribute to the numberpad of your Nokia.
In fairness, not all was doom and Zimmer frames. Glyn Hall made a 2 on the 7th, briefly rolling back the years before quickly realising his knees weren’t up to it. A birdie among the bogs, blobs, and back-nine meltdowns.
By the time the last card came in, the sun had set, the clubhouse kitchen had closed, and several of the field had probably missed their bedtime medications. But what the HOGS lack in pace, mobility, and consistency, they more than make up for in… actually, no, that’s it. They’re slow, creaky, and incapable of finishing a round without someone writing down a 9. And that’s exactly why we love them.
“It’s less a competition, more a waiting game — will the round finish, or will the players?”
Takeaway? Roberts was clinical, Vine held his nerve, and Boxall gave us all something to laugh about. Same time next month, lads — assuming the HOGS haven’t all been recruited for a remake of Dad’s Army by then.