My Name In Lights: My Fame In Tights

My name in lights

My fame (frame) in tights

In his poem Fernhill, Dylan Thomas was ‘famous among the barns’. Here, I’m famous among the golf holes: ‘reaching new heights, in laddered tights’. Unbeknown to golfers I go climbing on a golf course in gussetless tights. The greens are all holed. Why not?

Ignore me I’m about to fall, take your eyes off my tights and try to spot the ball. 

Look closely at the two golfers; the one on the right - who looks like a hoodie - is holding the flag, whilst the bent figure on the left (under the leaf) is attempting to hole a putt. Neither is aware of me, up high, my head in a hole in the rock. 

This flag-holding, hole-putting scene is played out the same, day after day. Here's the same scene on the same golf green (but from another point of view) in the 1930's, when plus fours were more fashionable than tights. 

An Excited Young Caddie Burst Out...

The Dean and his guests had enjoyed a great day’s golfing and were jogging steadily homewards at the tireless golf-trolley trot, which eats up the greens, when they found themselves confronted suddenly by a wild caddie who sprang from a spinney by the sixth tee.

“Your honour, oh, your honour!” panted the man, “the Great Crested Grebe, they be on the greens!”

The Dean looked hard at the caddie, in the gathering gloom of the autumn evening; and he did look hard, but the Dean still failed to recognize him: until an excited young caddie burst out…