A good gaming session spoiled

Golf (1986)

Obviously, since I’m as near to 30 years old as makes no difference, the chances of me becoming any kind of pro sportsman these days are a bit remote, to say the least. That doesn’t mean I can’t drift off into some kind of fantasy world on occasion however, like we all do.

I’m talking about the kind of fantasy where I ask myself those kinds of questions that lead on into a fun, artificially constructed second life until somebody, usually the missus, notices that I’m starting off into space. I’ll be sat there, drooling and everything, all absentminded, and she’ll ask me what’s wrong. I’ll tell you what’s wrong shall I, I was just crowned Super Lazarus Sportsman Personality of the Year and you’ve put me right off my internal acceptance speech.

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