The one thing that struck you was the level of confidence amongst the players, until you scratched the surface of their fragile self belief. Rebeka Nay’s response was typical, playing for the first time in what, Crouchy decided, was a BunkerBabe inspired get up: plaid skirt, long socks and sleeveless shirt. Rebeka had delusions of victory despite never hitting a shot on concrete or grass before. After trying to ascertain the reason for this confidence she lowered her expectations to “I hope I hit the ball”. Another competitor Karl Hienze Frushnegger had previously completed the course in a very impressive sounding 69 until further probing revealed it was 69 over par.

By now Team GP, started to decide where we were going to put our newest trophy when we came up against what looked like the real deal. Amazon Rogers the caddy, life coach, soul mate and servant to his noble stead Maxamillian Suspect Bulge. He was taking the tournament seriously after four weeks intensive training using secret warm up exercises he was loathed to divulge in public. Amazon also carried a spirit candle in case Max’s game deteriorated so he could expel any demons or bad vibes. Max really looked the part, dressed in plus fours, cardigan and flat cap so the inclusion of a spirit candle made sense. Suspect Bulge told us, “There is a lot riding on it as you do not want to dress up and play badly”. I enquired whether dressing up put more pressure on a golfer and Amazon jumped in, “It can go either way, it could just say hey I’m here to have fun, some of the people here have not dressed up they have got all their clubs and gear and are taking it too seriously, so in a way it can say I don’t care about this event too much.” But before I could reflect on how level headed his argument was, he added, “but for us this is not dressing up, this is looking as cool as we can”.

Kieran and Will came third in the last years tournament but were not so confident this time around, they recognised the that more serious looking golfers are here this year. 26 over was enough to come third last year about eight shots off the lead, but Kieran suspected you would have to shoot lower than that to come anywhere near the reckoning this time around. He has a normal handicap of 22 so the change from grass to concrete did not make a great deal of difference to him. “I will shoot low scores on any course you like”. Sure pal, we’re not scared.

After informing Crouchy on the level of competition Luther confessed he’d “accidentally” entered the ladies toilets and walked in on Katie and Lucinda the FHM caddy girls in their underwear as they were getting changed into their implausibly short golf skirts and pringle jumpers. After spending fifteen minutes apologising he had one last look and rejoined us proclaiming, “I can’t lose today, in fact, I’ve won already”. GPs declaration seemed to irk Brother Howe, from the Masons Shoreditch lodge number one and brother King from the East Course Lodge. The Shoreditch Knights were dressed in suits and a converted brief case carried their clubs. They were confident and assured us with some menacing prophecy that the masons never loose.

We being GolfPunk have celebrity friends, so we seeked out our mate and fellow competitor Ross McFarlane to give us some of his pro tips. Ross fancied his chances as, well, he’s played on the European Tour and in majors etc, but conceded that this discipline of golf was completely alien to him. So despite never playing a street course before, he quipped this’ll be “right up my alley” boom, boom. Well, it made me laugh. He had elected to carry his own sticks suggesting that he knows his game better than anybody and he did not know a street wise caddy. Ross did have some ingots of advice for us, like when I asked him if he wanted me to grab him a sandwich he stated “ I am hungry, but a hungry man hunts better” to which Crouchy added, “but there is no room for butterflies with a full stomach” what complete perfume ponces. However ducking the ball in beer to make it heavier and travel further might just work.

As the round progressed, cars were grazed, irons were scraped and booze was drunk. As quickly as GP got onto the leader board, it fell off. Particularly during the back nine, maybe it was the sun, or possibly the rub of the green. We decided to blame the referee. Don’t get me wrong a fairer and nicer man you could not wish to meet but…he wouldn’t let us cheat. We were penalised for having an upstanding official.

Congratulations have to be heaped onto young Oliver Clarke, the Iron Giant, and his caddy Max Silberhorn. When initially tapping them up for counsel, I thought, “they’ve got no chance” not only my caddying skills need work, clearly I am no prophet. When I first spoke to Oliver he told me he had “never played Urban Golf and his caddy had no advice for him”. The Iron Man walked home with the plate and I was left telling anyone who would listen, “I told you he’d win”.

Words by Sifaeli Tesha

Photos by Darren Arthur

For more information on the Shoreditch Open visit; www.sgcgolf.com

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