A few decades ago, while working as a reporter for a local newspaper on the West Rand, I was invited to play in a golf day in aid of one of the charities in the area.
A number of celebrities were also invited and I was quite looking forward to spending the day out and mingling with the stars.
Well, my disappointment was clearly visible for all to see when I was introduced to my celebrity golf partner on the day. It was none other than Jimmy Abbott – all 400kg of him.
As he wrapped his giant paw around my scrawny hand he laughed and said: “It could have been worse. You could have picked Mike.”
I collapsed laughing. The last thing I expected was a Mike Schutte joke. On the first tee, I took out a driver and gave it a few swings. I lined up and confidently hit the ball where no ball has ever been before. Jimmy took out a two iron and hit his ball smack down the middle of the fairway.
Not miles far, but dead straight. Unable to walk due to his size, Jimmy used a golf cart and gave me a lift to the secluded forest where I could pretend to search for my ball. We all knew we’d never see it again.
“I wouldn’t take out that driver again,” Jimmy advised me. “A handicap is not so that you can three-putt on every green. “Use the extra shot to work your way onto the green.”
It turned out to be a fantastic day as Jimmy and I worked our way down every fairway together with our irons. We spoke uncapped about everything under the sun and even the sun too.
At the prize-giving afterwards, there were very few prizes left by the time we were called to the podium. But we did go home with five litres of Castrol GTX motor oil and a six-pack of Castle Long Toms. Each.
As it turned out, I was the “lucky one” on the day. My one and only encounter with Jimmy turned out to be a real memory-maker. And to this day, I don’t even carry a driver in my bag.
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