In actual fact, it is a global company specialising in information technology. Admit, my dating agency sounds far more intriguing, doesn’t it? They have just sponsored a Sunshine Ladies Golf Tour event in George. Never having had the slightest interest in watching golf, you can imagine my surprise at finding myself on my way to the Data Dimension Ladies Challenge at Kingswood Golf Course and looking forward to it immensely!

There has been a vast change in me over the past few months. I have been learning to play golf with one of the top professionals in South Africa: Val Holland. My right hand, being spastic, does completely it’s own thing. Val took one look at it and instructed me to put it in my pocket. It was of no use to me as far as golf is concerned.

I am now hitting the ball 58 metres with my left arm. That sounds nothing to you, but to me who had lost the ability to connect with a small white golf ball for twenty-six years, it is positively mind blowing.

My friend, Jan suggested we go and watch the Dimension Data Golf Tournament for a short time on the Saturday. We were lent a golf cart which was a total dream. This meant we could simply shoot over the golf ‘dunes’, stopping wherever we wanted. A friend of Jan’s, Lee-Anne Pace was playing and somehow, of it’s own accord, our cart followed her and her playing partner, Stacy Bregman.

Before Val had opened my eyes to the world of golf, it meant nothing to me. I remember walking with a friend while she played the game. I was awed and stupefied by the beauty of George Golf Course. How my friend tee’d off, the sort of drives and shots she accomplished were of no interest to me whatsoever. They meant nothing.
Now it is a different story completely.
I watched Lee-Anne closely, surreptitiously mimicking the way she stood. I’m bending my knees too much when I address the ball, I thought recalling Val’s words and seeing Lee-Anne’s posture clearly. I noted how her body moved when the club and ball connected, how it followed through. When she and Stacy finished their shots, their weight pivoted forward with their back legs beautifully cocked. I’m laughing at the fact that female film stars, Meg Ryan for example, often have their back legs in that position while they are being kissed! I wonder why my leg doesn’t go into that position? Hmmm, maybe a lack of kissing practise. I must ask Val at my next lesson – about the leg position I mean!

This new golf awareness has made me look at the game in a totally different manner. I understand more. I observed Lee-Anne striking the ball with her driver. I noted the way her feet were planted firmly on the spot. They didn’t sway as mine mistakenly did. The way she coiled her body before swooping down and literally kissing the ball into the air. I marvel at a player like Gary Player. Having now developed a love for hitting that small, circular object a few metres along the fairway, I stand in total awe at the incredible artistry of a player such as him.

This whole change of perspective came about because of me being taught something about a game that I had previously disregarded. Through learning about it, I was shown a new dimension to something I had previously turfed to one side. This set me thinking.

Val caught my interest and made me ‘step into’ golf, discover it and delight in getting to know it. Taking this a step further. What about people? So often I dismiss people. I haven’t given them the time they often need. I haven’t stepped in and taken a closer look. When you have a knowledge of something, it seems to change your relationship with it. Same thing with people. When you have a better knowledge of a person, your relationship with them seems to change.
“She’s always snappy and in a bad mood!” you might think. Getting to know that person, you may understand why she snaps. She might be going through marital problems, be ill or just plain lonely. I’m not saying that you should pry into people’s affairs. I am not saying that at all. No, people have a right to their privacy. What I’m saying is: don’t judge people and dismiss them. I didn’t know that a golf swing was such an art. In the same way, people are an art in themselves. The more you get to know them, the more the artistry in their make up is revealed.

I have to admit that the highlight of my Dimension Data day was not the outstanding golf players I witnessed at that tournament. Indeed, they were magnificent but the item that stole the show was the buggy. Or rather it was – me driving the golf buggy! I asked Jan if it would be alright for me to drive it for a while. Since my fall, I have been unable to drive a car. Having only 40% eyesight means I am too much of a danger to others. But who could I hurt on a golf course, driving a meandering little golf cart? Seeing no harm in acquiescing, Jans moved over and I TOOK CONTROL! For the past 26 years I had been yearning for such a moment. Those cartoons where a car’s wheels whir round and round in the same spot before the car leaps forward and is gone in a whoosh of dust! That quite literally was me behind the wheel of that buggy! I floored the accelerator, my foot pressed down hard and said casually: “Okay, I will just go gently to the side of the golfers.”
My golf cart pelted hell for leather over the course and came to a zippy stop right near the golfers. We watched two more holes before accelerating back towards the club house. When I swerved into the parking lot, Jan issued a word I’d never heard her use before. Indeed it was MY word. “Shytenhauzen!” she gasped. “I need a strong drink!”

There is so much in this wonderful world of ours that we should be more open to and more aware of. Take my golf transformation. Thanks to Val, this one handed golf player is now addicted. I have always thought wrestling was such a silly, pointless sport. Perhaps if I did a few wrestling bouts, I would become a strong advocate of that sport!
Who knows what is inside of you, unless you allow yourself to delve? So delve and discover a love of golf, an interest in people, a passion for wrestling and a demonic desire to drive golf buggies!

The post Another Dimension! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

Val Holland, is one of South Africa’s top golf professionals, she teaches at Kingswood Golf Estate in George. We were having coffee together and she showed me a picture of her teaching two stroke victims how to play golf. I was amazed.
“Do you think that you would be able to help me connect with a golf ball again?” I asked hopefully.
She laughed. “I can certainly give it a try.”
We set a date.

I was nervous about my lesson. I am the sort of person that likes to be good at what I do. Well, as good as possible! And here I was about to present Val with this complete klutz of a person mishandling a golf club. Please don’t let her show impatience. That would finish me.
“Do you know what day it is today?” my friend Jan asked, driving me to my first golf lesson.
“What day?” I muttered, my mind on Val, klutziness, golf clubs and other ‘important’ things.
“It’s International Day of Persons with Disabilities.”
International Day of Persons with Disabilities! And here was this disabled person going for her first golf lesson. That had to be a good luck charm of sorts, I thought. Ohhh, please Lord, don’t let me make a fool of myself.

Val has an easy warmth that relaxed me totally. She’s wasted no time.
“Okay, let’s see which side is best for you to play from.”
I am spastic down the whole of my right hand side. She watched me turn both ways. “Your left side is the strongest. I think it’s best to face with that side. Your balance is better on the left. I’m going to start you with a right hand club so that when you hit and follow through, you will maintain your balance.
This must go in your pocket. You won’t be using it,” Val touched my right hand. I nodded and put it into my pocket. I took the golf club I was handed and watched the ball being set tantalisingly on the golf tee. I bent my knee slightly, as I was told, and placed my left hand on the club, a hands distance away from my left leg. I swung at the ball. I missed totally.
‘Oh, glory, here I go!’ I thought.
Val gently placed an arm on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to swing at the ball like that. Don’t raise your club higher than waist height. That way you will have more control over it. And keep your left arm straight.”
I took a deep, calming breath, raised my club to waist height and bought it down. I hit the ball! It just rolled a little way on the ground but I hit it!
“I hit it, Val,” I cried exuberantly. “I hit it!”
I missed totally the next two times and then that connection happened once more. I felt my stick, sorry, my club, thwack that delicious white circular object balancing on the small, spindly piece of wood stuck in the ground. This time I managed to make it roll further along the grass in front of me. Although I was “connecting”, I seemed to be hitting the top of the ball.
“Don’t aim for the ball now. Aim for the tee,” Val instructed, “Try and get the tee out of the ground!”
Forgetting about the ball, I tried to unearth the tee with my club. The ball actually sailed into the air. Not far but it definitely sailed! On my third attempt at unearthing the tee, Val gave a delighted shout: “Look, the tee has flown right out. That was a great shot! I’m going to measure how far it went.”
She did these massive strides counting loudly. “One, two, three……..fifteen strides, Gaynor, fifteen! That is fantastic!”

Try, try and try again!

A few days later, I went back to the golf range to practice before my next lesson with Val. Jan came with me. I did a few fairly good shots and then Jan said: “G, try using your right hand as well. Just see how it feels. Don’t do anything different to what you’re already doing. Do what Val has taught you but use two hands.”
Holding my club with both hands I did the golf shot I had been practicing. The ball flew upwards and out. Jan laughed.
“I’m going to measure that.” She did twenty-one long, loping strides.
Remembering what Val had taught me, I liked the feeling of having both hands on the club. It gave me control, I thought.

Try, try and try again.

That is something I have had to do throughout my life. Tennis was not a sport that came easily to me. As a schoolgirl, I remember hitting a tennis ball against a wall at the side of our house. Over and over again. I was put into the C team but I made the tennis team!

Try, try and try again.

After my accident, I learned to walk. I learned to talk. I learned to lip read. Yes, I realised that there would be hindrances on the way. I walk with a limp but I can walk once more. When I am tired my speaking goes for a complete ball of chalk.
My golf balłs won’t disappear for eons in the sky but if I can just make them go as high as a small mulberry tree, wouldn’t that be just something?

The post Try, try and try again! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

“Golf is said to be a very challenging game. The player has to hit a very small ball, into a very small hole with equipment ill designed for the purpose.”

I swung the club and connected.
The golf ball sailed high into the air, reached it’s peak, and began to drop. I looked after it with satisfaction. I placed another ball on the tee, did the golfer’s little “bum” shuffle, drew back my club and launched another on it’s way.
Before my accident, I loved going to the driving range. When I was out of work, highly frustrated and often depressed, that arching golf ball would carry a portion of my burdens with it.
After my accident, I accompanied friends while they played golf. George Golf Course has got to be one of South Africa’s most glorious courses. Tall trees, small hillocks, a green undulating field encompassed by those incredibly statuesque mountains. They played their final hole and made their way towards the clubhouse. I waited until they had moved out of sight and I turned to my close friend.
“Do you think I could borrow your golf club? I want to see if I’m still able to hit a golf ball.”
I clutched the golf club in my hands. It felt strange, large and unwieldy. I looked at the golf ball all the way down there. It all felt totally different to what I remembered. There seemed to be no connection between the ball, club and myself. I remembered my golf swing being smooth and fluid. I swung at the golf ball. And missed. I took a deep breath and tried again. Once again, I failed to connect with the ball. There was nothing smooth and fluid about my movement now. This disjointed, clumsy feeling made me realise that Gaynor and her days with a golf club were over.
My days of golf are far from finished though. I have friends that are passionate about golf, and so, like it or not, it still features prominently in my life. Last Saturday, it was the South Cape Women’s Golf Championship. The top amateur players in the country were there. Jan and I meandered our way over the course, picked a hole and sat down to watch. It was a bit like sitting at a waterhole in a game reserve. One marvelled at the variety, the skill, the plumage, and the sheer mastery of the various individuals that crossed our path.
At lunch we bumped into Val Holland, the South African women’s golf coach. On being introduced, she burst out with: “Gaynor, I read your book, how utterly absorbing it was. It was one of the best autobiographies I’ve read.”
How could I not fail to like her instantly!
She has been the South African ladies coach since 2005. On Wednesday we discovered that she was giving a class for Downs Syndrome children. I was intrigued so we joined her at Kingswood Golf Estate where she now teaches.
We arrived and the class had already begun. No mind was paid to to these two staring strangers. The children were utterly involved in what they were doing. Val had them hitting tennis balls towards their own little targets. The concentration was precise and intense. One girl seemed to speak gently to herself while she set herself up for her shot. Hitting the ball, she would watch it weave it’s way across the grass. She would then mutter as she took aim with her next tennis ball. And the next. Finishing her four balls, she would look up and smile at Val. Then collecting the balls, the whole process would begin again.
Val, also had them throwing balls at this big, round board that she held. If the balls hit the board they would stick there. This was to improve their sense of direction. What hoots and cheers of delight followed the tennis balls clinging onto the board!
What was it about that class that so took my breathe away?
I think perhaps it was the joy shining out from their faces when they succeeded in conquering a very simple goal. The children derived untold pleasure from the incredibly simple fact that they were “learning to play golf!” Val gave them the opportunity to feel that they were achieving something.
I look at Val with such admiration. She has reached the pinnacle of success being the South African Women’s golf coach. This woman also chooses to teach those with Downs Syndrome. And she puts equal effort into both pursuits. I was delighted to discover that her greatest goal right now would be to get a player from the Ups with Downs school to become a golfer who can possibly participate in disabled championships.
I think of my pre-plunge golfing days.
I think of the unbelievable artistry we encountered at the South Cape Golf Championship.
I think of the innocent joy I was shown by the Down’s golfers.
Isn’t golf a wonderful thing?

The post The Ups & Downs of Golf! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.