More than a game: What’s in a number?

Fergus' primary ambition is to reduce his handicap. The problem is: the lower it goes the harder it is to play to.

Golfers are obsessed by their own and other people?s handicaps. I remember returning to University one autumn and bumping into a golf club team mate, I hadn?t seen him for four months. His greeting was: ?Hi Fergus, what?s your exact handicap?? I?m just the same, my exact happiness is almost totally relative to my exact handicap. Down 0.3, the beers are on me. Up 0.1, pass me a gun.

I?ve accomplished my primary objective for 2007. In the first round of the Riverston Cup on Wednesday I scored a 66 and was cut to 2.2. I struck the ball brilliantly, found 16 of 18 greens and holed everything from six feet and in. After finishing I was filled with self-belief. I?ve written about the sensation before: the great feeling where you truly think you?ve discovered the secret to golf. I was invincible.

Over the last few days, however, I?ve discovered that playing off two is difficult. In the second round of the Riverston Cup on Friday I was not so imperious on course. I was tight and nervous, I prodded and slapped my way round to a less than impressive 74. A nett 72 to add to the nett 63 from Wednesday was just not good enough and I finished runner-up. I was pretty gutted actually because I really wanted to get my hands on the Riverston Cup. It?s absolutely massive: one of the best at the end of season prizegiving because it takes about six bottles of wine, or 15 pints of lager, to fill it. So after Friday I was up to 2.3.

Yesterday I was part of a four man team who travelled to Stonehaven for the Scott Trophy. 36 holes around a, very hilly, cliff-top course with some extremely tricky holes while suffering from a class three hangover: going up 0.2 was the likely outcome.

In round one I was progressing steadily and was out in +3. I then drove the green at the par four 11th and had a putt for eagle. An incredibly heavy-handed effort from the front edge resulted in disaster. The frantic shouts of my playing partners, ?whoah!? and ?grab a chair ball,? were to no avail. My Titleist careered past the hole and down the slope off the back of the green. My consternation was compounded when I saw where it had ended up. It was in a muddy hole up against a fence. I could only move it a couple of feet out of there, I chipped up then missed the putt: mark me down for a six. Drive the green and take five to get down. Good work Fergus. I hobbled in at +5 feeling like a very bad golfer. Up to 2.4.

How the mighty fall. Three days previously I was at 2.2 and was thinking that three good rounds over the rest of the week could get me to one. As I forced down a chicken sandwich in the Stonehaven clubhouse I was wondering how I could possibly avoid going back up to three. After going out again in +3 I was on a non-stop express service straight to 2.5. But, digging deep into the Bisset grit reserves I gave myself a stern talking to on the 10th tee. The ship was steadied and I came back in -2 for a +1 total. Good enough to keep me at 2.4. I can say I play off two for at least another week.

Fergus Bisset
Contributing Editor

Fergus is Golf Monthly's resident expert on the history of the game and has written extensively on that subject. He is a golf obsessive and 1-handicapper. Growing up in the North East of Scotland, golf runs through his veins and his passion for the sport was bolstered during his time at St Andrews university studying history. He went on to earn a post graduate diploma from the London School of Journalism. Fergus has worked for Golf Monthly since 2004 and has written two books on the game; "Great Golf Debates" together with Jezz Ellwood of Golf Monthly and the history section of "The Ultimate Golf Book" together with Neil Tappin , also of Golf Monthly. 

Fergus once shanked a ball from just over Granny Clark's Wynd on the 18th of the Old Course that struck the St Andrews Golf Club and rebounded into the Valley of Sin, from where he saved par. Who says there's no golfing god?