The forgotten milk

I love the irish links, it´s always the wind and the waves there – and great Golf. Makes me feel like the whole world back home collapses to a small box of humdrum things that don´t mean anything.

Last year in May I played Enniscrone and was all set for teeing off at that great first hole, which doglegs to the right after some 200 metres and leads you up to a cosy Green nestled between the dunes. Suddenly there was irishman Richard from Ballina – in his early eighties, almost deaf on his right ear and his walking abilities, I assume, must have been far better once. But of course (after all, this was Ireland) he was still playing Golf.

Richard joined me and we had some fantastic holes together. He was cursing on everything that was british, and even taught me some terms in Irish (which most of them are forgotten by now since Gaelic is such an alien language to the german tongue).

Playing with Richard was fun. His drives were short as hell but also constantly straight as hell. It was on the 9th he suddenly stopped and told me that he had to go now. Which seemed quite surprising, since both of us obviously enjoyed our litte game of Golf on that fine soft day-i-ay between the canyons of the great links of the river Moy.

Why asked I, and Richard came up with the following story: He was having coffee with his wife in their kitchen when they found out, that all of the milk was gone. Richard´s wife sent him to the supermarket in front of their house, just to get some additional stock. But once out on the street, Richard convinced himself that he might as well pay the local golf club a short visit. And that his wife would be forgiving enough to stand a little delay waiting for the milk. Later on, spotting me as I was teeing off, he thought: Well, now that I am here already, I might as well play one or two holes with that guy who looks a little bit lost and is obviously a visitor from abroad.

That had happened almost three hours before. But now, Richard closed and gently waved a slight goodbye, I really have to go home to have coffee with my wife, who is still waiting for the milk.

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