(First off, apologies for the tardiness of this report, dear reader, but your correspondent has been at the Motor Show trying to be pleasant to people for 11 hours a day solid. By "people" what I actually mean is car anoraks and spotty herberts - not easy, even for a man of my temperate disposition as you might imagine).

However, I digress. Sunday dawns hot and sunny and it's a full house for the odd tee off time determined by Brett. The Tosser sends out Nance, DJ, Turbo and Cutie-Cutie to be followed by himself, Mr. Grumpy, Tate and Brett.

The lead quartet manage to drive somewhere approximately up the first fairway. Not so the following four. Drives of varying directions are ultimately trumped by Tate who manages to stay on the golf course only by the skin of his teeth. Such is the display that the next waiting four-ball immediately head for the 3rd tee.

It's going to be a long, hot morning and the temperature is raised further by Brett who begins castigating himself loudly as early as the first green. Only Fat-Boy manages to match the sunny weather with the sunny disposition of one who enjoys regular sex.

Despite gloomy predictions at the sandwiches the latter four find themselves only two points in arrears and a markedly better back-nine by Brett and Mr. Grumpy supporting individual winner Fat-Boy results in a clear-cut victory. 

Tate, however has a memorable morning. He all but takes out a "For Sale" sign on the 10th and hits several trees with several shots on the 16th before skirting with another OOB on 17. His holiday a a 3 week no-golf sabbatical is perhaps well timed.

As stated, Fat-Boy takes the ten max with 37 Stableford points and 

