The Dangers of Golf

I regularly run near to three golf courses: The Grove, Berkhamsted, and Ashridge. The Grove I have already written about.

The Berkhamsted course is particularly attractive. It is carved out of the Common and actually adds to the recreational feeling of the land. It is criss-crossed with footpaths and is not therefore a privileged enclave, fenced off and private. In fact it was the Golf Course in conjunction with the National Trust who preserved the land as a Commons and for that reason I feel warmly towards it. However footpaths crossing the fairways can be dangerous.

Running out from behind some bushes I heard the metal crack of a driver. Better stop I thought. At the same moment I looked round I heard the shout of 'Fore!' and a ball flew past me, about an arms length away. “That was close” I thought and then carried on. It had been the merest pause; I hardly missed a step and didn't think any more about it. Only afterwards did I think that I had been rather sanguine. Another couple of feet and I could have been laid out on the grass watching stars circling above my head. It would have been no ones fault. The golfers could not see me when they hit the ball and because I was running I came into its path sooner than I would have done if walking.

There is only one conclusion: 'pay more attention'. That is an interesting problem when running because sometimes it is good to disassociate and let your mind wander somewhere else. So the conclusion has to be specific: 'disassociation is fine but not near the golf course.'.

It might be a little indistinct but this the photo with this post looks out to one of the greens of the Ashridge Golf Course. I had a look at the club website and took particular pleasure in their dress code. Apparently tailored shorts are allowed but only if they are worn with long socks, turned over at the top. Brilliant! Grown men basing their rules for dressing on the Boy Scouts.

Even if I could afford it (or even if I played golf), I would never join a club that thought dressing as a Boy Scout was a way of keeping up standards.