“My opponent’s wood skids across the green, water spraying up behind it as it goes. It comes to a halt several yards short. Again.‘It’s no use,’ says the pleasant elderly lady. ‘I can’t get it that far. I’m not strong enough.’
I return her a weak, guilty smile.”
Fig 2. A realistic head. The woods are nowhere near the cott, and some of the players have been drinking.
Fig 1. A promising head. If sprung, the cott will fall closest to the cunningly-placed back wood.
