Many moons ago, when I was a lot younger and before the advent of bent grass greens, I was inculcated in the ways of life of a golf club professional at Benoni Country Club.

The first things I learned, under the tutelage of the late and greatly missed Harry Middleton, were that I had chosen a career where I could look forward to having to do eight jobs for a meagre salary and that irrespective of which clubs I worked at I would always have a least 250 bosses.

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