First published on the Golf Monthly website on Thursday 2 October 2008
Fergus realises his conscious thinking isn’t quite as diverse as it might be.
They say the average man thinks about sex once every seven seconds. “They” said “they” say that on some mind-numbing American drama I accidentally flicked onto last night – I think this one was something like Crime Scene Investigation of a Special Victim’s House.
“They say” is a very odd phrase. Just who are they? Is there some central body for vague and inaccurate facts? Perhaps an international committee for unproven statements? I don’t know, but “they” don’t half speak a load of old tosh.
I definitely don’t think about sex every seven seconds, I’ll put my neck on the line and say that no man does. If one did he should probably be locked up in a padded cell for his own, and others’, safety.
After turning to something far more sensible (Never mind the Buzzcocks) I decided to do a quick run-through of what I’d been thinking about through the day. The results were a little worrying.
First thing, I got up and headed to my desk to finish writing the Leaderboard section of the magazine – that was four and a half hours solidly thinking about professional golf. Of course there were a few other thoughts thrown in there. Things like: “I’d like a cup of tea now.” And, “I wonder if taking my right foot back slightly at address would cure that fade?”
At about 12.30, lunch thoughts took precedence. Ham and cheese sandwich, that was a given. But, what type of cheese? “Should I have mustard? Will I be healthy and add a leaf of lettuce?” Even at this stage though, golf wasn’t discounted. “Right, Dunhill Cup coverage starts at 1.30 so if I start making my sandwich at 1.15 I should be able to sit down and watch some as I eat.”
After a Dunhill Cup lunch I went back to work for a bit more thinking about other peoples’ golf with a little of my golf interspersed. At about 3.30 I started to consider going to the driving range. “Will I get 50 or 100 balls?” “Should I work on iron play or concentrate on woods?” “Which end of the range will I favour?”
After a pleasant hour hitting balls I returned home to catch the end of the Dunhill Cup before going upstairs to email a couple of friends about a prospective golf trip later this month. I then did half an hour more research on the European Tour website before clocking off and going downstairs for some more intensive thinking about what I’d learned at the driving range.
Oh my god. I need to start thinking about sex more.