I dropped my wife at Auckland airport for a business trip away. Huntly didn’t seem that far, so I headed south to the Waikato.

I arrived and headed up to the clubrooms to find someone to give my $25 green fee. There was a hot and thirsty looking collection of men settling into their chairs. The man behind the bar took me downstairs to get a card.

He told me the group in the bar were too thirsty to play more than 9 holes today. It was a stinking hot day.

“What brings you around this way?” the man asked. I looked a wee bit townie and obviously not local. I unfolded the dream to play every golf course in New Zealand at his feet.

He bobbed his head and shoulders in appreciation of the task. “There are nearly 400??” he learned and quickly processed the challenge ahead of me. “If you do one course every month – you’ll be dead before you finish.”

I agreed and rushed to the 1st tee, I better get a move on.

It was a dry intense heat beating down on the Huntly fairways. This had been the weather story for a while. The course was a light brown colour like many more in the New Zealand countryside at the height of summer.

I was sporting a new pair of golf shoes, a half size bigger than normal to allow for swelling of the plates of meat. They were exceptionally comfortable.

The front nine passed me by as I struggled to get in a rhythm. The dry course was generous off of the tee. If you hit a straight drive you would feel good with the added run metres, I couldn’t muster much of that. You had to hit the green or else the miss was magnified by the hard ground around them. The greens themselves were in good condition.

Foolishly unprepared, there was no water in my bag so at half time I was glad that the man was still around to sell me much needed hydration before he packed up for the day.

I picked water from the fridge and noticed a box of Speights. ” Can I grab a can ?” – the man wondered why I had asked that “Looks like you need it.”

On the 10th tee I demanded more from myself, I drank all the water. I will keep the very cold can of beer in my bag until my game improves.

Number 10 was a par 3, a nice hole to get the back nine started. I thinned an eight iron onto the green for par. This was the start of a good stretch of golf.

A drivable dogleg of 259 metres was a nice 11th hole. If you can find a power fade you’d be happy. Another par on 11 and following a great iron shot into the par 3 12th, there were signs I would soon crack the beer. I’ll drink it if I nail the birdie putt… Missed it.

The 13th is a tough 354 metre par 4 needing a good drive. I came off the green with another par. I was wondering if I could keep this up and I was wondering if the beer was getting warm.

The 14th was a par 5 and made for an easy 5th par in a row. I couldn’t take the risk any longer on the beer temperature and I had played well enough to deserve it.

Time for a beer

I sat on the lovely 15th tee and whipped off my sweat sodden hat and delved into the bag for the can of Speights. Yes, it was still cold. There was no one anywhere in sight, it felt right to pull off my shirt and lie back on the tee box.

I’ve never been shirtless on a golf course in my life. I must take this moment to apologise to the good people of Huntly. For the disregarding of all etiquette rules on your golf course. Any one who may have seen the sun reflect off of my white Scottish skin and wonder what was going on, to them I apologise too,

The beer and the moment was such a pleasure. I got ahead of myself ( again) and dreamt of a bogey-free back nine. 3 quarters of the can already drunk, I stood up and stared down the 15th, a mere 168 metres later I came off with a double-bogey 5. The beer and the sunshine knocked me off my pedestal.

I finished the can, put my shirt back on and made sure that I was dressed appropriately for the final stretch.

Melting back to the clubrooms, it was a tough final 3 holes, wishing for more cold Speights but no luck as everything was locked up.

I enjoyed the back nine here at Huntly, the course is well worth a visit. I was glad there were no hills to tackle in the heat of the day. I was glad I took the drive to the Waikato to experience the 18 holes. I felt the tinge of sunburn on the way home, best to keep my shirt on in the future.