I had a golf lesson today, which went really quite well. Apropos of nothing, perhaps just because it was Wednesday, I thought about my father. Dad used to play on one Wednesday a month with the Cock and Bull Golf Society. They played some very great courses, and dad won a lot of trophies. He played off a seven handicap.
Then I wondered where the phrase “cock and bull” came from, so I looked it up. There are hotels in Stony Stratford, on the edge of Milton Keynes, called the Cock Hotel and The Bull Inn. They were both staging posts on Watling Street, the roman road between Dover, London and Worcester. Local people, keen to hear the latest news from London, wanted to know what the passengers had to say. Apparently the inn keepers competed to relate the most outlandish stories, reputedly told to them by their guests. I didn’t know that until today. Since the inns have existed since the 15th century, I feel challenged to incorporate the idea into a Sir Anthony Standen Adventure.
I played a lot of golf when I was young and got down to eight handicap. I gave up when I left university, and started again when I retired. It’s a tall order, too tall really, but I’d like to get down to six. I’m playing off twenty-two at the moment. However, Alex, one of the professionals at Chippenham Golf Club, is a great teacher. The technology for teaching today is incredible. With videos and statistics you can be shown exactly what you’re doing wrong, and hopefully, put it right. Well, a guy can dream, can’t he? If I do tell you I’ve achieved it, ask me for proof. It might just be a cock and bull story.