This August, Larry Canning wants to get the New Year wish list thing over early. And it is not so much about what he wants … but what he wants to avoid.
By Larry Canning
YOU know how people who write stuff in magazines, always throw in their “Wish List” at the beginning of each year? Well I’m breaking all the rules in this month’s column. Yes folks, I’m turning the tables on traditional golf publications and coming up with “Things I don’t want to happen to me” and I’m doing it in August… Here we go!
1 – I don’t want to go to a casino with John Daly. Not so much because I wouldn’t have a good time or have the odd imported beer shouted for me but I would come out of that place with no money, no shirt, house, wife, teeth (I would have lost those to the croupier right after I told him he was a cheat), golf clubs (they would be sitting with the prizes at the chocolate wheel), my last 2 Viagra tablets would now be owned by the drug lord on the black jack table and what’s left of my hair would now belong to the bald headed bar man.
2 – For the sake of my self-respect, I definitely would not need to interview American upstart, Patrick Read. He might be popular with his mates and family but if I hear him say, one more time, how bloody good he is, I will have to take a swipe at him. The problem here is that that’s exactly what it would be, “A Swipe”. There’s a very large chance that my right hook would make contact with nothing more than fresh air. I have lost every stoush I’ve ever attempted which isn’t that many mind you. Whilst I have a pretty good looking stance and I can fake a mean, hard arse facial expression, my reflexes are about as sharp as a Koala after a night out on the gum leaves with his mates.
3 – I wouldn’t want to have to play the 17th hole at TPC Sawgrass when there is a ludicrous amount of money on the line. I guess the term “ludicrous amount of money” is relative to the amount one is used to playing golf for. Im talking, anything from a $10 keno ticket and upwards. Remember this year’s Players Championship when former World Numero Uno, Martin Kaymer was battling his way back from the golfing abyss? He stood on that tee knowing if he could avoid about 10 zillion mega-litres of H2O by landing his nut on 20 square feet of green, he was going to win 1.8 million bucks and relaunch his career. And it’s not as if you can drop your ball somewhere that offers you a safe chip and run. If you dunk your fist attempt, you just have to keep hitting until one of your shots stays dry!
My anus would be that tight, I’d have to get my caddy to tee my ball up. The next time I needed to perform a bodily function, I would need to summon the SES to perform an emergency surgery using the Jaws of Life! I guarantee, by the time I had one on dry land, all the grandstands would be removed and the green keeper would be cutting the green. I’d probably hit the mower and bounce back in the drink!
4 – Finally, I would never want to play golf with Jim Furyk. I pride myself on having an orthodox, almost pleasant looking golf swing, one that has taken me years and millions of unearned prizemoney dollars to perfect. If I played with Jim, I know he would beat the living daylights out of me with an action resembling an Orang-utan peeing on an electric fence. By the time we finished the back nine, I would have booked my surgeon to have all my hair removed, half my body weight liposuctioned and two extra elbows implanted in each arm.
As always, I enjoy any feedback from my readers particularly when it agrees with me, so please send me some.
See you next month