Younger Son came home from his latest round of golf wondering where his improvements of the past month had escaped to.
A golfer myself, I felt his pain only too well.
Mulling over the familiar grumbles emanating from his room, I put together this simple ad for golf tuition. Its coupling of a tweaked wanderlust cliché and an image that backs it up should strike a wry note with many high-handicappers.
All it needs is for the contact details of the pro at the local golf club to be inserted, the relevant gender pronoun amended as necessary and it's ready for the wall of the clubhouse or local library. Or even better, somewhere it can't be missed by the line of broken souls leaving the nearest driving range, convinced that they couldn't hit a cow's a*** with a banjo...
I don't know if club pros are allowed to teach members and non-members alike, or whether an hour of their time falls within the everyman definition of "affordable", but in an era where golf clubs are crying out for fresh blood, they damn well should.
Right-click image to open a full-size version in a new tab.
[Hole diagram - Costa Navarino Bay Course]