36 over par.

Golf is back! And with it, my ability to be both completely relaxed and unashamedly unhinged by it.

Other than obscure sports such as Table Tennis and running, it’s really only the one sport I enjoy partaking in. Clearly, PE at school was not a lesson I was overly fond of…

There’s a certain magic to being out on the course, surrounded by luscious greenery, tw*tting balls left, right and centre that soothes me. Golf allows me to forget my worries if only for a few hours.

It’s therefore the height of f***ing irony, that the one sport I find peace in; also fills me with indescribable rage and a penchant for ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ winning.

You see, I’m not a competitive guy…But get me out on that course and Bald Eagle becomes a rabid dog. A powerful bite, but ultimately flawed and by no means a winning machine. I don’t even get angry with my fellow players. No, no, no. It’s that tiny ball that feels the full wrath of my competitive spirit.

Not only does it not go where I tell it to, but the good lord gifted me with an inability to see things far away. So no matter how good the shot, chances are I’ll still be looking for it way after my team mates have putted.

And yet, the game is so damn addictive.

Want the truth of it? Golf is an angry sport. The reality of a four hour round can be likened to a civil war. There’s no winners. Especially if you’re as sh*t as me. After every game, I tell myself I’m retiring to return once more the week after and leave once again with nothing but a bruised ego and 12 lost balls. It’s therefore quite the oxymoron that I use golf to busy my mind and soothe my very being.

I wouldn’t categorise myself as an angry person. I don’t for instance, allow golf to get me so damn riled up, that I can physically rip a hat in two. True story. I once witnessed a friend rip his TaylorMade hat in half after a particularly bad hole. Kudos to him. It was a sight to behold. The strength. The anger. And then the necessary cigarettes and San Miguel’s that it took to truly rein him in.

So no. I don’t think anyone could describe me as angry. But I do know that I have a tendency to overreact. Especially when I can feel my baseline rising and my OCD and anxiety peaking. I find myself all of a sudden snapping at the tiniest of things and losing my patience quicker than I should. Truly, the straw that broke the camel’s back.

In these situations, I only get angry with myself. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve hit myself in the head before because I physically cannot work out another way to let my frustration out. It’s happened at a festival before. Overwhelmed by sights, smells and the sheer noise that a festival naturally brings, I found myself desperately needing the toilet. Realising that the queue was massive and we only had half an hour to get through the crowds to another stage on the other side of the site, I became overwhelmed. And so rather than make the rational decision of going to the toilet and then accepting we might be late for the next act by a few minutes or so, I thought it rational behaviour to punch myself in the head to get my frustration out. Now that’s an overaction. No two ways about it. I certainly can’t condone that behaviour, so know that it only happens once in a blue moon. Hilarious for my friends who were like “blimey, just go for a damn poo;” but for me, my inability to be decisive paired with a natural hangover led to a simple decision ending with a 10 second fit of anger.

I guess sometimes, I feel defeated. Like it’s just one thing after another and I physically don’t have the brain capacity to think it all out. That’s when I’m most volatile. Most vulnerable.

All of us have bad days from time to time and we all react differently. Knowing that it only takes one little thing to push me over the edge in these situations serves me well. I can be on the lookout for them.

When I feel bogged down with unnecessary stress, I ensure I take time for myself before it’s too late. A welcomed beer. A run. A workout or even a round of golf.

It doesn’t matter if I shoot 114, it’s the taking part that counts…

NO. That’s what losers say. Tiger Woods has got nothing on me.

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE. Another hack in the rough.

I f***king hate golf.

Bald Eagle