Tuesday, 16 September 2008


To some minds the great field which golf opens up for exaggeration is its chief attraction. Lying about the length of one’s drives has this advantage over most forms of falsehood, that it can scarcely be detected. Your audience may doubt your veracity, but they cannot prove your falsity. Even when some rude person proves your shot to be impossibly long, you are not cornered. You admit to an exceptional loft, to a skid off a paling, or, as a last appeal to the father of lies, you may rather think that a dog lifted your ball. ‘Anyhow,’ you add conclusively, ‘that is where we found it when we came up to it.’

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