Introducing Neo, my (occasional) golf agony uncle

By Rahul Banerji

Tiger Woods has his Tiger Tracker. He’s followed on Twitter, Instagram, the Golf Channel and god knows where else. I, on the other hand, have a single, one-point, fanged Tracker. Neo.

Neo came to us almost eight years ago as a month-old. For the first three-odd years life was largely uneventful other than the inevitable share of Neo-induced whoopsies – Dad fast asleep woken by his hair being gently tugged off, chewed chair and table legs, shredded shoes, slippers, socks and vanishing sundry pieces of wool that would emerge in the following day’s leavings.

And of course the episode of the chewed live wire.

That peaceful pace of life was rudely ended when golf entered Neo’s existence. Suddenly there were 14 other claimants for attention that needed cleaning, drying and general maintenance.

Inspection time

Being the good soldier that he is, Neo gradually got used to the transgressors and now strolls up for an inspection every time I return from yet another fruitless attempt at avoiding a hundred on my card.

This activity has a set pattern. The bag is carefully sniffed through. When no goodies emerge, it’s the turn of my trouser legs, to see how many others I have fraternized with out on the course.

Post the once-over, comes part two of the routine that he’s built up over the last four-odd years. It basically is a debrief of the day’s round and follows three routes:

1. Intense interest (bolt upright) – when Neo wants biscuits
2. Intense disinterest (slouched) – when Neo wants to sleep
3. (occasionally) Some attention (a welcoming smile) – when Neo wants his ears scratched.

On the rare day things have not gone well for him, Neo spends an extra few minutes telling me what a dog’s life he’s forced to lead, etc, etc. You get the picture.

Golf trauma

Neo’s share of golf trauma comes when he has to sit through a sad story session of hooked drives, sliced iron shots, bellied wedges and missed bogey putts.

A resigned looks settles over him, his eyes glaze over and he finally goes belly-up in desperation, hoping the offer to scratch his tum will halt the monologue. It mostly works, I have to admit.

But its great therapy, in the course of which realization dawns about what is going wrong on the fairways and greens. In that sense, he has become something of a personal golf guru. And when the shanking and duffing starts all over again, he’s always there to lend a helpful ear.

Long live golfing agony uncles.

Meanwhile, this is the big week at August National as the top 90 golfers on the planet have arrived to strut their stuff. Interestingly, none of the current top 10 in the world rankings have ever won the Masters, though down at number 16 lurks one who has done it four times. Mr Woods also seems to have set his sights on a fifth green jacket.

It will keep Tiger Tracker busy this week, for sure.

This one was for you, Kaka.

Also read: McIlroy-speak: Inside the mind of a champion