Guess who’s still here! And here to stay!
And I couldn’t be more thrilled about it because there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of or speak to someone about golf. Or if not either of those, I’m planning the next step to be taken to help bring this sport closer to communities who still know nothing to very about it.
Yesterday I had three back-to-back meetings from 1pm all the way through to just before 6pm – all about golf, in professional and social development capacities.
And most of my days look like this because I’m fortunate enough to fuse my work and my passion for golf into efforts that will make a positive impact in the lives of young boys and girls, within and beyond the sport.
But this now regular feature will not only focus on aspects of golf development and transformation. Its permanency affords me the opportunity to broaden the scope of golf content I write about, remaining committed to always shining a light on both the challenges and success achieved in levelling the playing field as a result of this and other efforts to make an impact in this regard.
I’m sure we all know that one colleague who is the last one to leave the office, or at least when we still predominantly worked in offices.
Whether they stayed late because they are passionate about their work or trying to avoid bath time with the kids is another story altogether, but for the purpose of this article, let’s assume it’s because of the former because it reminds me of an incident that demonstrates how obsessed I am with golf.
One Friday afternoon after work, I set out to play 9-holes with my regular 4-ball at King David Mowbray Golf Club. The round was booked for around 4.50pm in the summertime.
Most golfers, or at least the ones I know, will always try to squeeze in as many additional holes as possible before it becomes too dark to continue – and I was extreme in this regard. Especially if any players are tied for 1st place, we almost always insist on playing a play-off hole.
On this day, we pushed the light limit to the edge and walked off the course in almost darkness. I had a function to attend to immediately thereafter and thus needed to take shower in the locker room before leaving.
As I emerged from the locker room, flustered because at this point, I was already quite late for the function I was supposed to be at.
Walking to one exit, I found that it was locked. I assumed that as it gets late, the staff closed some exits using only one to save time when leaving for home.
I dashed around to another exit – closed!
They’re all closed! Upon realising this, I quietly started laughing at myself because this kind of incident is bound to happen to me - I put the “Murphy” in Murphy’s Law!
So, I think okay, I’ll just call someone and ask them to alert security on-site to the fact that I’m locked up inside. Easy right? No, it's not. Because King David’s men’s locker room is underground – like a basement set up. And that means there’s no cellphone signal anywhere down there!
I went from window to window, trying my best to extend my phone's ability to find a signal, without success. And to add stress to anxiety, my phone battery was dying, and my then-wife was certainly trying to contact me to find out why I’m so late but couldn’t get hold of me!
She was probably fuming, thinking that I was caught up with friends at the 19th hole.
Anyway, I started looking for tools to help pry one of the doors open. I was contemplating breaking a window to use as an exit but considered that security might assume I was a burglar and then unleash a German Shepard on me (LOL).
So, I swiftly dismissed that thought. I was even screaming for help, hoping someone would hear me.
Maar niks!
At this time, about 45 minutes later, I was beginning to think that I’d have to spend the night there and started looking for something to cover me up with during the night. I found plenty of clean towels that could work well as pillows as well as sheets and blankets. But I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.
By some stroke of luck, after approximately 60 minutes of frantic efforts to capture someone’s attention and finding a door or window to open, I managed to find a single bar of signal, with 10% battery life remaining on my phone.
10% might seem like a lot, but with my aged battery at the time, 10% meant nothing other than that it can die at any moment now.
I managed to Google Pinelands SAPS’ number and called them. I explained my situation to the officer, who answered and asked her to please send a vehicle to alert security about my situation, which they did. Ten to 15 minutes later, someone arrived to unlock me from my misery, with a big grin on his face.
I would have laughed too if I was him.
By this time, I needed another shower because of my panic-induced perspiration. I was just glad to free and make my way to the function, where my story quickly ignited the room with laughter.
What did I learn from this incident? Pack PJs into my golf bag, just in case.
IOL
Follow Jehad’s Far From Par series every Tuesday.
Far From Par is a series about the grassroots development of golf in South Africa. For decades, golf was a sport reserved for white men for both leisure and professional expression.
Sadly, after nearly 30 years of democracy, apart from it now being open to all, not much has changed to foster meaningful transformation.
This series explores his experience on the importance of, challenges faced, and status quo of grassroots golf development and transformation in South Africa.
If you’d like to find out more about Mitchells Plain Golf Club, here’s how to: www.mitchellsplaingolfclub.org.za or @mitchellsplain_golfclub on Instagram, or contact
Jehad on +27 723654037 or [email protected]