I Have Forgiven Golf

I have always tried to be a snob and a reverse snob in equal measure, in the hope that somehow this will cancel each other out and I will become a well-rounded person.

Of course it doesn't work like that, however much you hope, just like trying to know a little bit about everything ends up with massive gaps and a tendency to be glib.

It is the same with sport. I wouldn't say I have no interest in sport, but I don't really know what's going on and when those inevitable blokey football conversations I flounder* terribly.

But like my previous decision not to miss out on books just because the author may or may not be a misogynist prick if it was a good one, I have decided not to dismiss sports because they're for "poshos" or that they serve imperialism or whatever.

And golf is just darts outdoors with sticks really. But I won't be donning a Pringle jumper or whatever it is that they wear these days.

* Although nothing will top the moment last Sunday when I referred to Arsenal midfielder Mikel Arteta first as "Arriety" and then "Aloutte" in front of my dad and uncle, who were both desparate to know the latest news from Ashburton Grove whilst we were in a pub with limited signal.