Golf = Glamour. Who Cares If You're Rubbish?

Celebrities packed into a swanky Mayfair penthouse suite, cocktail in one hand, golf club in the other? It's putting but not as we know it.
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I’ve never quite got the hang of golf. Hand-and-eye coordination has never been a strong point, neither has checked trews and G&Ts in provincial club houses with Daily Mail readers. I do, however, admit that the sport has a certain retro cool thing going on; a seductive finger-clicking allure for Swingers-style aspirant Rat Packers.

Invited to the launch of this summer’s 2010 Leuka Mini Masters, an annual celeb-rich charity golf event, I found myself, club in one hand, glass in the other, jostling for space on top of the Mayfair Hotel, London. A swanky penthouse suite, cocktails on tap, a giggling gaggle of PR girls and a leisurely putt or two – the very things Dean Martin fantasies are made of.

How was my driving? Crap, since you ask. One thing I didn’t reckon with was just how fiendishly difficult tapping a golf ball in a straight line can actually be. And I wasn’t the only one. A glittering prize was on offer for anyone able to successfully stick the wretched golf ball in the perishing hole, just there, straight down the bastard middle, but not one of us actually managed it. Clearly there’s more to all this than meets the eye and in recent days I’ve found myself absent-mindedly doing little air swings while waiting for the kettle to boil or standing in the queue at the newsagents. Golf. Oh shit. I think I’m getting into it.

The 2010 Leuka Mini Masters, hosted by Sabotage Times contributor Dougray Scott and featuring the likes of Hugh Grant and Johnny Vaughn hacking their way through two rounds of nine holes to a soundtrack of live music, tees off at Dukes Meadows Golf Club in Chiswick, London on July 16th.

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