Golf is a cruel sport, made crueler by the fact that you have absolutely no one to blame but yourself for whatever the final tally is on the scorecard.

All my family members are better golfers than me (except you DWB bless your heart), the Dude is a better golfer than me, despite taking up the sport about 7 years ago and having a swing that resembles the line in the hokey-pokey song where you “turn yourself around”.

Golf, that evil, insidious sport, gets in your blood. You can go from zero to hero in the space of the 7th and 8th hole. You can have Cheezies and a Diet Pepsi for your mid-game lunch and NOBODY cares, it’s fantastic.

Now which of my family is the best golfer…hey I said I was a bad golfer, not crazy.

Number one son takes a swing in Stony Plain

The Dude ponders his next shot

The Dame works on her form