MY STORY
How I smashed a police car!
G
olf is truly a gentlemen’s
game. But when I took up
the sport, little did I know
I that one day I would end up in a
police cell. My crime? Slicing the ball.
Though this unfortunate, and
hilarious, incident happened 25
years ago on a Sunday morning at
Kiambu Golf Club, it is still fresh in
my memory.
I and my brother Ashok, were
eagerly looking forward to the
much-awaited friendly match play
against our opponents, Mahesh and
36
Paku. This was going to be the fifth
and final game of our series of five
matches. The losers would have to
host an elaborate dinner attended
by spouses at a venue decided by
the winners. “We must win today”,
I told my brother as we drove to
Kiambu. We had settled for an early
tee off time… 7.15 am. We arrived
at the Club few minutes before our
opponents, enough time for little
putting practice and some warm up.
There was an aura of excitement
as we were all psyched up. It was
indeed a tough match. As we stood
on the 9 th tee, the match was all
square. “This is the moment to show
these guys what I am made of,” I
urged on myself quietly. Mahesh
and Paku drove fairly well. Teeing
off before us by virtue of winning
the previous hole, they perfectly
smacked their shots straight and long
splitting the fairway down the middle
almost 300 yards! Not to be cowed,
I opted for a more accurate club…my
trusted 3 Wood. For those who play
or have played in Kiambu, you know
the 9th hole fairway runs parallel
to the main road on the right. At a