Andrew is an acquaintance who’s golfing four-ball I infrequently joined, mostly when one of the others went missing. I was the spare. I’m not sure what county he came from, maybe Meath or Dublin, but he fell down on the elocution stakes and I’m being kind when saying that. Lets just say he mumbled at the best of times. My mother would have no hope in deciphering what he said, as he rattled off with the speed of a Bren light machine gun. She has just gotten her first hearing aids and mentioned that she had to slow people down in their speech to make them comprehensible while using her new aids.
On this particular Saturday, I got a phone call from Andrew. He asked me if I could take his place in the Sunday four-ball. I was delighted to accept. In our conversation which got harder and harder to comprehend as it went on, I strained just to hear the words…Meath and ….mother amongst other gibberish. Feigning comprehension I signed off with “have a great time, enjoy yourself and I’ll see you when you get back”
Arriving, full of the joys of spring I joined the Sunday four-ball. As the round progressed, conversation turned to Andrew. I mentioned how I was talking to him and how he had asked me to substitute for him. “Yes”, said Frank, one of the regulars in the four-ball “he’s at his mothers funeral in Meath.” My heart missed a beat, what did I say to him? He must think I’m heartless. I’m definitely the spare prick in this four ball, I thought to myself.