The Tenby Rabbits staged their exclusive classic last Sunday, a major event in the golfing calendar, the Duffy Cup. This event commemorates a founder of the Rabbits section who, way back in the last century, saw the opportunity to establish an eclectic section of Tenby Golf Club where golfers of gentle birth could parade their talents free from the intrusion of those members who, let it be said, could not write a sonnet or compose an opera, etcetera, etcetera.
The Duffy Cup is played as a medal, the only time in the year when the Rabbits acknowledge this rather sordid and competitive form of play. And so it was that 44 well muscled, beautifully proportioned, skilful golfers took to the links in spring conditions on Sunday last. Each and everyone hoping they would join the list of past winners, immortals all.
As the cards were returned to the clubhouse it was clear that the winner would have a sensational score, threatening the course record, and making Mr. Tiger Woods' endeavours on the other side of the Atlantic look very ordinary indeed.
Early in was David Blackmore, dancing a fandango, with a round of 68. Drinks all round, at considerable expense, for he was very satisfied with what he described as a perfect bit of golf craftsmanship.
But wait. Into the card tent swaggered Fred Adlam. He had miracled a 68 also, but his 68 was measured as superior to David Blackmore's by virtue of the mysterious countback system. David attempted to recover the undrunk celebratory drinks he had invested in. Fred plunged into champagne.
Then to upset this applecart, in strode Meurig Jones with a 66. The scores were going crazy. Fred Adlam re-corked his champagne fast. Meurig overbid with two litres of Remé Martin cognac and duly set out on a brandy appreciation marathon in the sure knowledge that he had won.
But out on the course was an ultra-gifted left-hander making hay. Not as the readers would expect, Marsden or Tom Pritchard, but Viv James making a rare appearance in the Rabbits. And Viv James did make hay. He played to the par-birdie theme with such ease that he too came in with a 66.
Level with Meurig Jones and the card marker had to resolve this with the complex rules of countback. He called for an ice pack, took an abacus, wanted a brandy and there he sat, responsibility on his shoulders.
After two hours he had resolved this situation. Viv James had pipped Meurig on a two-hole countback. Astonishing.
And Viv sped home to organise photographers, Sky, the press and S4C for the presentation later in the evening. Meurig Jones, a valiant runner-up, was sick in a bucket. So near, so close.
Later in the evening, the heroes all reconvened in the clubhouse for the presentation dinner. The ladies attended, too, dressed in sequins, tiaras sparkling, a defiant display of mink here and there.
They added the glitter.
Whereas the raffle tickets sold in the morning for the evening had been inadvertently dumped in the SPDC dustbin bags, thought to be time expired. Probably this had all been done in good faith, but it resulted in the leader of the Rabbits spending an interesting half-hour recovering these missing tickets from the sewers, both fresh and foul, in time for the bounty later that evening.
The Rabbits were all very pleased to hear of this humiliation of their captain, for he is truly an unpopular figure. A regrettable choice. Though the captain described his experience later as leadership.
The evening commenced with Michael Fox performing reverential duties, in rhyme, and to the satisfaction of God and the diners. Telegrams and E-Mails poured in. The Master of Ceremonies read them out. The touching little message from friends in the Divots, all the way from their outing in Cornwall, was received. But the fact that Charles and Camilla were rather tied up with Jubilee things, and could not attend, was the only disappointment of the evening.
President Gwyn Tibbs gave a sonorous little address, recalling high moments in his golfing career. A golden nugget for all present to savour. And the president proposed a fulsome and deserved toast to the Rabbits.
John Stevenson, with his wonderful Richard Burton voice, proposed a toast to the ladies. His was a very moving tribute and the ladies prinked and preened, as is their way.
The captain flopped as usual and it was left to Michael Anthony to carry the day.
Mike Anthony was making his debut as Master of Ceremonies on what he described as a very important event for him. Mike is a tall man, for he is six feet two. He is dark, for his hair is black. He is handsome per the opinion of all the ladies present, though the men in the audience prefer something more masculine and rugged. But above all he had power on this day.
With ladies swooning as they do, he was carried away. Making 43 individual speeches. As he maintained the tempo of the evening.
Left hand in pocket, toasting hither and thither, tuxedo clad, prestige Hollywood bird at his shoulder, looking as if he had a little Royal blood in him, he was a natural, and carried the event with aplomb.
So dominant was he, that the Duffy Cup winner Viv James was made to feel he had come second. The Winter League winners Colin Smith and Ian Thomas quaked in his presence. Though Ian Thomas doing his famous "I am Ballesteros speech" did manage to get a word in edgeways.
Fred Adlam won the Joe Williams Shield for the best gross score. Then he announced he would have to extend his home to house his many trophies.
So, an amazing golfing classic was played out. Two days later everybody is at home rested, though the Master of Ceremonies still stands at the podium, introducing guests and proposing toasts. A star is born.
Curious thing. The Rabbits departed yesterday (Thursday) for their annual trip to Ireland. One of the Winter League winners, Ian Thomas, is responsible for all travel arrangements.
Joe Coral have offered even money that we will end up in the Azores. Watch this space!