This edition published in 2015
First published in Singapore in 2014 by Sunbear Publishing
Copyright © Text, Shamini Flint 2014
Copyright © Illustrations, Sally Heinrich 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
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Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
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A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the National Library of Australia
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ISBN 978 1 76011 149 6
Text design by Sally Heinrich
Series cover concept by Jaime Harrison
Set in 12/14 pt Comic Sans
This book was printed in November 2014 at McPherson’s Printing Group, 76 Nelson St, Maryborough, Victoria 3465, Australia.
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CONTENTS
MY GOLF DIARY
GOLF LESSON NO. 1
GOLF LESSON NO. 2
GOLF LESSON NO. 3
GOLF LESSON NO. 4
TOURNAMENT NO. 1
PAR 4
PAR 5
GOLF LESSON NO. 5
TOURNAMENT NO. 2
HOLE NO. 1: PAR 4
SECOND HOLE: PAR 5
THIRD AND LAST HOLE: PAR 3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MY GOLF DIARY
Nope. I can’t do it. I can’t disappoint Dad.
Not again.
He begged me to play soccer …
and cricket …
and rugby ...
He asked me nicely to try taekwondo ...
track and field ...
and swimming …
I WAS HOPELESS AT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!!!!
But Dad still believes in me.
Our conversation went something like this:
My sister Gemma doesn’t understand that diaries are supposed to be private.
She reads mine. And she leaves me notes in them.
I try to ignore her notes.
But then she leaves me MORE ...
and more …
See what I mean?
If you must know, Gemma …
One day, one of these sports is going to be the DEATH of me.
And I’d like the world to know what happened to me.
Mind you, maybe I write diaries because there is a writing bug in the family.
Mum writes notes for the fridge.
Gemma sticks notes in my diaries.
Harriet … errrm, I’m not sure what she’s doing but she thinks she’s writing.
And Dad’s written a book called Pull Yourself Up by Your Own Bootstraps. He’s up to Volume 2 now!
In his book, he gives people advice about how to be good at stuff.
And it’s always at the top of the bestseller lists.
GOOD NEWS!!!
REALLY GOOD NEWS!!!
MEGA GOOD NEWS!!!
Better than when I got an A+ in maths!
Better than when I ate all the cake in the fridge and Gemma got the blame!!
Oops.
Don’t read my diaries if you don’t like the truth, Gemma!
Dad can’t find a golf coach!
The coaches have all heard about how rubbish I am at sport.
None of them will touch me with a ten-foot pole!
GOLF LESSON NO. 1
Dad’s bought me some new clothes for golf.
I think he is joking.
I hope he is joking.
I pray he is joking.
He’s not joking.
Great. I can make a fool of myself before ever playing a shot.
I just hope no one sees me dressed in this …
I knew that. NOT.
The next day at school, everyone in class was very excited.
(We’re supposed to be making up our own idioms in English. A lot of the kids are really bad at it.)
Maybe Dad’s right.
After all, misery loves company.
GOLF LESSON NO. 2
Hulk, JT and James have joined the group.
Yippee. NOT.
Luckily Spot helped me out.
I felt like a cat that had been hit on the head with a brick.
My own Dad is better than me at a sport.
Yippee. NOT.
Hulk hit it down the fairway.
JT hit it into the rough.
James hit it into a bunker.
It was my turn.
I closed my eyes and swung the club as hard as I could.
Later, I was hiding behind the sofa so that Mum wouldn’t make me wash the dishes.
I wished the earth would open and swallow me up.
I wished I could escape to the moon.
I wished that I wasn’t such a disappointment to my dad.
GOLF LESSON NO. 3
Dad decided we should practise hitting the ball out of the sandy bits.
We took turns to chip the ball out of the bunker.
Or at least the others did.
I made sand angels.
Later JT told me that Tiger Woods and Greg ‘The Great White Shark’ Norman were two great golfers.
In which case, I must be the next earthworm of golf.
Four-leaf clover?
Four fingers?
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse???
Apparently, ‘fore’ is what you shout when your golf ball might hit another player.
We all fell silent. There was nothing to say. The man was right.
I didn’t b
elong on a golf course.
That’s where Dad was wrong, of course. Words can hurt us. I hadn’t forgotten what he’d said to Mum.
When we got home, there was a note on the fridge.
I’d never cooked dinner before but I’d watched Mum lots of times.
I decided on stuffed chicken with pumpkin puree.
The key is to simmer the pumpkin with milk.
And wrap the chicken in foil, of course, so the juices are locked in.
When Mum came home ...
I may be a great cook, but I’m a rotten golfer.
GOLF LESSON NO. 4
How about losing is … just a NIGHTMARE?????
About ghosts …
Or rattlesnakes …
Or evil wizards …
Or all of them combined in ONE AWFUL NIGHTMARE ...
ACTUALLY THAT STILL WOULDN’T BE AS BAD AS LOSING!!!!!
TOURNAMENT NO. 1
I was going to play two holes against the other boy, a par 4 and a par 5.
I gave my dad a card I made myself for his birthday.
Time to hide my real identity!
So much for pretending to be someone else.
Isn’t losing a stepping stone or something?
PAR 4
Dad is my caddy.
That means he carries my clubs and gives me advice.
Hole-in-One’s dad is his caddy.
That means he carries his clubs and gives him advice.
The difference is that Hole-in-One is capable of following advice.
He’s going to tee off first.
A dog leg? Spot? Spot’s leg?
Spot! Let me count your legs!!
I knew that.
NOT.
Hole-in-One hit the perfect tee shot.
The ball sailed through the air and landed in the middle of the fairway.
It was my turn.
It took me 22 attempts to hit the ball off the tee.
Then it rolled three feet.
It took me another 72 shots to reach Hole-in-One’s ball.
On the way …
the ball hit a tree ...
landed in a water hazard …
found the rough …
Hole-in-One’s second shot reached the green and trickled close to the flag.
My next shot went backwards.
It took me another 33 shots to reach the green.
On the way...
I found a rabbit hole …
I frightened some geese …
I discovered that what goes up, must come down …
Hole-in-One rolled the ball towards the flag.
PAR 5
This time, I teed off first.
It took a while.
A few people in the audience got bored.
Hole-in-One, his dad, my dad and Spot were bored too.
Eventually, I hit it.
Hole-in-One took a shortcut over the trees.
I took the longcut through the trees.
By the time I got to the other side, the sun was setting. It really was a beautiful day.
BUT NOT TO PLAY GOLF!!!!
Finally, we were on the green.
I took a few shots to get the ball in the hole.
At least Hole-in-One was quite a long way from the flag.
There was no way he was going to putt it in one stroke.
Hole-in-One took six strokes to complete the two holes.
Mum let me cook dinner.
I decided on chicken.
A bird that doesn’t mean anything in golf.
My favourite kind.
GOLF LESSON NO. 5
Dad is determined to improve my golf.
He took us to a driving range.
You can hit the ball 50 metres or 100 metres or 150 metres.
I hit a pillar …
Hulk …
and some poor stranger one level below …
Dad shut his eyes.
I shut my eyes.
Spot shut his eyes.
Dad tried to be helpful.
But his advice was a bit hard to follow.
Great. I play golf like a robot or a jellyfish.
First, I’ll stretch …
then I’ll do star jumps …
then I’ll run in at top speed …
then I’ll swing my club with my eyes shut …
The only thing missing was …
I think I might need to spend an awful lot of time in my room with a paper bag over my head.
Later that evening, I was tasting the lamb stew with dumplings I had just cooked. Delicious!
Be ready for anything?
Really, Dad?
Be ready to accidentally swap bodies with Spot?
Be ready for an alien invasion?
Be ready to travel back in time to the Jurassic age?
I invited my friends over for afternoon tea.
I baked a sticky fig and caramel cake with vanilla custard.
I should be a chef …
or maybe a maths genius …
or have the highest score for Angry Birds in the whole world …
But that won’t make Dad happy …
Because he just wants me to be good at sport.
Any sport.
And that will never happen.
NEVER. EVER. EVER.
People always think I’m joking when I’m not.
It turns out that match play means that golfers play to win each hole.
A foursome means two teams of two players taking alternate shots for each hole.
There are no problems?
Tell that to the polar bears, Dad.
Or the orangutans.
Or the whales!
That night, I cooked dinner for the family and a little something on the side for Spot.
I should be happy, right?
WRONG!!!!
You see, Dad doesn’t know what good news is. I do.
I think good news is discovering a cool toy in a box of cereal.
Dad thinks good news is discovering that cereal is healthy.
I think good news is discovering that it’s Sunday morning and I don’t have to get out of bed for school.
Dad thinks good news is that we can get out of bed extra early for more golf practice.
I think good news is not having a partner for the golf tournament.
Dad thinks good news is … I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!!!
Diary of a Golf Pro Page 1
