- Ebenezer Cup 2026: Peaks, Pratfalls & Putter Problems!
The Ebenezer Cup headed back to the grand old dame of Derbyshire golf: Buxton & High Peak Golf Club. Established in 1887, this is the oldest club in the county and one of the finest inland links-style tests you’ll find. Sitting proudly on free-draining limestone high in the Peak District, the course plays firm and fast, rewards precision over power, and serves up some cracking views across the hills. At just under 6,000 yards and a par of 69, it’s short by modern standards but has plenty of teeth – especially when the wind gets up. A proper golfer’s golf course.
Arrival Antics
And what a day it was, a huge thank you to Ben Cryer for kindly sponsoring the day – much appreciated as always.
On arrival we were greeted with the news that the clubhouse was completely out of bounds – the entire place had been hired out for a private event. For a bunch of thirsty golfers on a blazing hot day, this was less than ideal. Still, we’re a resilient lot and there just happens to be a pub called the 19th Hole that beckoned all weary golfers after hacking up the Derbyshire landscape.
The fashion police were out in force early. Special mention to Joe, who turned up sporting a brand new, suspiciously neat haircut. Gone was the trademark mop that’s survived more bad bounces than a Titleist 3. In its place: something bordering on respectable. We’re still in shock.
Twos Pot Watch
The Twos Pot was looking particularly healthy because we are all terrible, so Mike chucks in a fiver after missing the last few events and was rubbing his hands like a man who’d already spent the winnings. Fortunately for us, here he is missing the first fairway!
Spoiler alert: he’ll be rubbing them again at the weekend.On-Course Shenanigans
The golf itself was… characterful.
Embarrassing drives were in plentiful supply. Colin set the tone on the 1st with a “dick out” special that barely cleared the 18th green, never mind reaching the ladies’ tee. Ron ‘Rustle Rustle’ produced his own special on the 4th, and Joe capped a fine afternoon with one on the 17th.
To be fair to Joe, he did have a rock-solid excuse – a nasty “boo boo” on his ickle finger after heroically spraying 75 balls at the range in practice. What can I say, the lad’s basically a warrior.
In other shocking news, Oaker (yes, the same Mike Oakes who usually finds more fairways than the rest of us combined) actually lost a ball on the 15th to the road. We’re still checking the footage for signs of alien intervention.
Near Misses & Heartbreak
There were some heroic near-misses too. Macca very nearly holed his tee shot on the 8th Nearest the Pin, then predictably lipped out the subsequent 4-footer that would have cleaned up the Twos Pot. Tough luck, better luck next time.
Joe was equally snake-bitten – a gorgeous 15-footer on the 6th was tracking beautifully for birdie and a share of the pot until… until… it cruelly faded off in the last foot and glided past. With that Joe collapsed on the green and almost cried. He also just missed another two on the blind 13th. We were all rooting for it, so unlucky.
Prize Winners
In the end, the scoring was respectable on a warm day:
Nearest the Pin honours went to Jay Oakes, well played buddy.
Winner: Dave Mac with a very tidy 34 points. Blush indeed, sir. Some of us are starting to think you’ve got a pact with the golfing gods.
Runner-up: Len Potts with a solid 32 points – well played, Len.
The highly coveted Visor (for services to comedy golf) was awarded to Rick. Unlucky, buddy. The Visor Committee clearly had it in for you.
Twos Pot Update
And the Twos Pot? Still intact. Not a single two was recorded. It rolls over once more to Hazel Grove this Sunday. Mike’s hands remain firmly in rubbing position now the pot has reach record levels.
Looking Ahead
No coffee or bacon rolls on arrival on Sunday at Hazel Grove this weekend (cost-saving measures), but the pro shop has a coffee machine and there are plenty of emergency sausage roll options nearby.
The course is looking absolutely gorgeous at the moment. See you all Sunday, lads. Bring your best swings and even better excuses!
- Alfs Challenge at Davenport Golf Club
The Alfs Challenge returned once again to the fine parkland layout of Davenport Golf Club in Poynton. Set against the stunning backdrop of Lyme Park, with the hills of the Peak District and the Cheshire Plain rolling out in the distance, it’s a proper golfing treat. The course is always beautifully presented, with those immaculate greens that give you every chance… if your irons are behaving. A proper test that rewards straight hitting and a bit of local knowledge — something a few of the lads clearly left at home. A big thanks to Stuart Shand for once again putting his hand in his pocket and sponsoring the event. Legend.
The day kicked off with glorious weather — bright sunshine and clear skies that had everyone smiling as they unloaded the boots. Of course, there was a sharp breeze that kept things interesting, meaning jumpers were going on and off more times than a tart’s drawers on a bank holiday weekend.
Fairway Farces & Bunker Blunders
As always with this group, the golf was secondary to the comedy, Bert clearly thought he’d booked a day at the beach instead of a golf course. He spent so much time in one particular bunker we nearly sent out a search party with a bucket and spade. Still waiting for the postcard, Bert.
Your correspondent had a heart-in-mouth moment off the 8th tee, when a wayward drive nearly took out poor Jay. The ball missed him by inches and pinged dramatically off his trolley. Sorry again, mate — but you’ll be pleased to know your near-sacrifice wasn’t in vain… I went on to par the hole. You’re welcome.
The twos pot turned into pure comedy. I finally stuck one close (an 8-footer, a rare and beautiful thing) and was lining up a monster payout when golf balls started literally raining down around me like we’d upset the golfing gods. One landed between my ball and the pin, another whistled overhead, and then one came crashing through the trees behind me. After three resets I gave up. The twos pot duly rolled over to Buxton. Grrr.
Dec had a full-blown domestic with his trolley. It clearly had enough of his nonsense, discarded his bag like an unwanted child, and made a break for freedom down the fairway. We’re still not sure who won that particular battle.
Ben and Al shared a buggy and nearly needed the defibrillator on standby. As they trundled past the fairway bell, Ben couldn’t resist giving it a good ring. Al nearly jumped out of his skin and almost had a heart attack. The buggy has since been fitted with a health warning.
No twos were recorded on the day. Apparently the “hail the size of golf balls” made it impossible. Turns out it actually *was* golf balls.
Yours truly nicked Nearest the Pin by default. The green wasn’t exactly under siege, so I’ll take the moral victory (and the small bit of prize money).
The Glory (and the Wooden Spoon)
1st Place: No Doh with a very respectable 35 points. Class act as always.
2nd Place: Dave Mac, also on 35 points but nudged out on countback. So close to a hat-trick of wins, Dave. Better luck next time, champ.
Last Place: Al with 22 points. He therefore earns the honour of wearing the infamous visor at the next event… although it might still be residing with Joe due to his absence. The Visor Committee will be holding an emergency meeting, no doubt.
The usual Fines Master was sadly absent (Macc Town in a playoff and winning a cup final with the church team — a perfect storm for a proper hangover). Massive thanks to Col for stepping into the breach and dishing out the fines with enthusiasm.
All in all, a cracking day out at a great course with plenty of laughs, as always.
Next up is **Buxton High Peak** tomorrow (as I write this). Coffee and bacon roll on arrival, 10am sharp for an 11am tee. See you there, lads. Try not to lose too many balls before we even start.
- Lost Cups and Fairway “Fertilizer”: The ANGS Presidents Cup at Styal Golf Club
The Alfie Noakes Golf Society (ANGS) descended upon Styal Golf Club this past weekend for the highly anticipated Presidents Cup. Nestled in the Cheshire countryside, Styal is renowned for its challenging layout, featuring water hazards that seem to have a magnetic pull on Titleists and bunkers that have swallowed many a golfer’s dignity. It’s a course that demands precision—something our group usually replaces with optimistic swinging and creative scorekeeping.
A massive thank you to Len Potts for sponsoring the day at his home club. To be honest, we were expecting big things from Len on his own turf, especially on a course where Al Corbishly usually treats the fairways like his own private backyard. Unfortunately, the day started with a slight administrative hiccup: nobody actually knows what the Presidents Cup looks like. We couldn’t find it. It’s officially been added to the committee agenda, right under “How to stop Ron wearing trousers.”
The Tee-Off: Sun, Knees, and Early Starters
The weather gods were smiling as we teed off in glorious sunshine. It was fantastic to see a strong turnout, including Dec, sporting a shiny new knee, and Pete looking ready for action.
Len Potts was clearly eager to justify his sponsorship; he was teed up and swinging before the starter had even finished his morning coffee or called the first name. Meanwhile, our Mr. Captain put on a brave face despite a dodgy back. However, the bravado lasted exactly one swing. He tweaked it immediately, sending his opening shot “fore-right”—an unusual postcode for him, but a sign of the struggle to come.
Then there was Ron “The Tree” Marshall. In a move that has shocked the local community and likely triggered a parliamentary inquiry, Ron appeared in trousers. I am currently drafting a sternly worded letter to my MP; some traditions are sacred, Ron.
Chaos on the Course
Starting on a Par 3 is always a recipe for a bottleneck, especially when the ANGS membership collectively decides that the deep rough is far more interesting than the green. It was a long wait for the final group, punctuated by the sound of hacking from the long grass.
The “Muppet of the Match” awards could have gone to several candidates:
- Jay: Managed to lose three balls on the second hole, only to find them all out of bounds. That’s a special kind of talent.
- Corbo: Apparently forgot he wasn’t on a hiking expedition. He led his group on a “scenic” trek that almost resulted in them missing two entire holes.
- Mr. Captain: In a moment of extreme dedication to greenkeeping, he decided to “water” the course. Usually, this is encouraged, just perhaps not in the dead center of the fairway in broad daylight.
- Joe Wilcox: Had a bit of a moment. In a fit of pique, he fined himself for club abuse. The only problem? He broke his own bag in the process. Efficient work, Joe.
The Results: The Bandit Strikes Again
In a shocking turn of events, there were zero “2s” recorded on the day. All the way over in Turkey, I’m told Oaker could be heard cheering as the pot continues to swell. He’s chomping at the bit, though he’ll be gutted to know he’s missing the next event—the last chance to claim the big prize lads before the pot resets.
Usually, we just pre-etch Al Corbishly’s name onto the trophy at Styal, but since he didn’t turn up, the door was left open for a predator. Step forward that massive bandit, Mr. Maccapakka. Despite a “dodgy” front nine featuring two blobs, he turned into prime Nick Faldo on the back nine with eight pars to finish on 37 Stableford points.
The Podium:
- Maccapakka (37 pts) – Currently hiding from the handicap secretary.
- Bert (32 pts) – Took the runner-up spot on countback.
- Pete (32 pts) – A valiant effort, pipped at the post.
The Visor makes a triumphant return to the Chairman of the Visor Committee himself, Joe Wilcox. Given the state of his golf bag, I think Joe knew deep down that the headgear was coming home to him.
Finally, a shout-out to Mr. Captain, who eventually had to card an NR. His back finally gave in, but credit where it’s due—he battled on far longer than most of us would have.
Next Stop: Davenport
We go again on Sunday, 10th May at Davenport. The club has promised coffee and bacon rolls on arrival to soak up the inevitable Friday/Saturday night remnants. See you on the first tee, lads—and Ron, please, wear shorts.
Over and out,
- Founders Cup at Brookdale: Hail, Ice-Putting Birdies & One Very Unlucky New Car
Our golf society rolled into Brookdale Golf Club in Failsworth for the Founders Cup, kindly sponsored by Pete Evens, and what a gloriously chaotic day it turned out to be.
Tucked away in the peaceful Medlock Valley, Brookdale is a proper little gem – an 18-hole, par-68 parkland classic that’s been dishing out character since 1896. The River Medlock snakes through six holes, the fairways are tight and quirky, and from the 12th tee you can stand there like a king and take in the whole layout. No roads, no buildings, just pure golfing escapism with a mischievous streak. It looks innocent enough… then bites you when you’re not looking. We love it.
The weather gods had been kind all week, and the forecast from 9am looked positively tropical for Manchester in April. Spirits were high – especially when Stuart turned up nice and dry. Last time he got so drenched he ended up showering at his daughter’s and borrowing her clothes. We’re still not over the photos.
Unusually, Oaker was a no-show. Turns out he’d completely overlooked that it was a rare Saturday event. Thank goodness we double-check the WhatsApp group, or he’d have rocked up the next morning wondering where everyone was. With that minor panic sorted, we rejigged the start sheet faster than a hacker trying to find his ball in the rough. My eyes were going properly cross-eyed though – there are far too many Oakes in this society. I’m only calibrated for one.
We teed off under blue skies, but by the 10th a sudden squall of hailstones turned the green into a winter wonderland. Proper white-out conditions while we took shelter under inadequate golf brollies until it subsided. Still, yours truly somehow managed to bag a birdie by putting across what felt like an ice rink… blows on fingernails and polishes them on sleeve.
Mr Butler, unfortunately, couldn’t quite repeat his heroic 47-point Stableford masterclass from last time. The pressure of defending the crown clearly got to him – or maybe the hail just froze his putter. Either way, the throne is up for grabs again.
The 18th provided the comedy gold of the day. The hole was “in progress” thanks to a landslide being shored up by a fleet of diggers. They’d stuck in a temporary tee that completely removed the dogleg, leaving a straight (in theory) uphill belter. Unfortunately, after completing the round, Alex.V discovered that someone had deposited a ball straight through the rear window of his own car. Poor lad had only had the motor a week. He’s now the proud owner of the world’s most ventilated BMW.
Slicing it off the tee is easily done, as demonstrated by our very own Mr Fore Right (Alex Baker), who almost put his tee shot through Col’s parked Mini – saved only by a diligent tree. Friend of yours, Ron?
And while we’re on the subject of Alex… he lost three balls on the road on the 5th alone. Three! The Mr Fore Right nickname is now officially tattooed on his forehead. As a small consolation, though, I believe Steve owes him a crisp £100 after casually promising to pay up if anyone hit the marker post on the 15th. Ka-ching! Mind you, Steve should have the readies – McIlroy paid out at 14/1, didn’t he? The wallet is officially getting lighter.
When the dust (and hail) settled, Dave Mac emerged victorious with a very tidy 37 points to lift the Founders Cup. Runner-up on countback was Stuart on 32, just edging Jay out of the prizes.
Nearest the Pin was claimed by Jamie, nice one buddy! The rest of us are all far too talented at being terrible hackers to compete for that. The two’s pot however rolls over to the next event and I can already hear Oaker counting his future winnings and rubbing his hands with glee. Usual Sunday game next time, Mike – see you there!
Special mention too for Michael Oakes Snr (confused yet? I still am), who has been formally (and involuntarily) welcomed to the Visor Club. I rocked it this time round and it seemed to work wonders for me. He’ll be proudly modelling the society’s finest headgear at the next outing. You’ve earned it, Sir.
I might add there were additional prizes given out on the day. One to Ron ‘The Tree’ Marshal (russle, russle) for ANGs Senior Champion 2025. And, ahem…*blush*… another prize for you’re truly, the ANGs Champion Golfer 2025. I thank you, no really… for me… oh, bless, thank you. I believe I only just edged Col out for that one and had genuinely thought he’d bagged it. Better luck this year buddy.
All in all, a smashing day out on a course that never fails to deliver quirks, character, and the occasional heart attack off the tee. Brookdale, we’ll be back.
Next up it’s Style… and by all accounts it should be a healthy turnout with fine weather tracking all the way. Coffee and Bacon roll is provided so no need to hit the Golden Archers on the way.
See you on the first tee, lads. Keep it straight(ish).
- Spring Cup 2026: A Soaking Success at Macclesfield Golf Club
Sunday saw the ANGs descend on Macclesfield Golf Club for the eagerly awaited Spring Cup, generously sponsored by the ever-elusive Alex Vietor. Perched on the edge of the Peak District National Park, Macclesfield is a proper test of golf with rolling, hilly terrain that rewards good course management and punishes anything less. The views across the Cheshire countryside are spectacular (when the clouds actually let you see them), and the greens are famously true and quick. It’s a course that looks innocent enough… until it starts kicking your backside.
A healthy turnout of new and returning members made for a cracking atmosphere, though a few familiar faces were conspicuous by their absence. Most notably, our very own sponsor, Alex. No sign of the man on arrival, which raised more than a few eyebrows. We half-expected a dramatic entrance involving sunglasses and a bucket of Irn-Bru.
Thankfully, unlike previous years – ahem, Maccapakka *cough*cough*, there were no scheduling disasters. Tee times were spot on, the staff were on hand with coffee and bacon rolls, and everything ran like a well-oiled machine. Well, almost everything…
It turns out Alex had been enjoying himself rather too enthusiastically the night before. Sporting a hangover that could slay a small horse, he’d completely forgotten the clocks had sprung forward. While the rest of us were tucking into breakfast, Alex was still horizontal. This left one lonely bacon butty sitting on the table, looking increasingly nervous as Joe circled it like a shark that hadn’t eaten in weeks. (We’re still not sure if it survived.)
Speaking of Joe, he sprang into action the moment the shirts came out. The ANGs kit was proudly donned by all… or at least those who could still stand upright. Unfortunately, buggies were banned on large parts of the course due to the soft ground. This meant a few of our more “mature” members had to sit this one out. Harsh, but at least they got to enjoy the bacon rolls in peace.
We teed off under cloudy but dry skies — a vast improvement on last year, when the round was abandoned faster than a bad Tinder date because members were literally dodging lightning… bloody pussies eh!.
Of course, the golfing gods were only teasing us. It didn’t take long for the heavens to open, and once they did, they really committed. Driving rain straight into the face is a special kind of misery that no golf swing can survive. Your correspondent spent most of the round hacking away like a drowning man trying to axe-murder a puddle. Not my finest hour to be honest.
Speaking of questionable fashion choices, spare a thought for our Mr Captain. He was ‘presented’ with his new official captain’s hat… which can only be described as “interesting”. Let’s just say if the hat was any more tragic it would have needed its own handicap. He’s been given the captaincy, yet somehow ended up with headwear that looks like it was rejected from a 1980s episode of Love Boat. Absolute scenes. We’re still not sure whether to salute him or start a whip-round for a decent hat… because that thing is an absolute crime against golf fashion.
The course fought back hard. A few members went sliding onto their backsides in the slick conditions (no names, but the bruises were impressive). Col managed the rare feat of actually breaking his driver. Some might say he’s done himself a massive favour — that club had been letting him down for years anyway.
The Podium
In conditions that would have made Noah reach for his waterproofs, Steve ‘Yozza’ Hughes emerged victorious with a superb 39 points. Outstanding effort in that weather, Yozza — one to watch, lads.
Jay Oakes took second place on countback, also with 39 points. Two very worthy winners who clearly remembered to bring their A-games (and perhaps a snorkel).
No nearest the pin prizes were awarded. Not because the committee forgot — we’re all just that crap in the rain. Similarly, no twos were scored, so the pot rolls over to the next event. Cha-ching.
Bringing up the rear in last place was your humble scribe. Fully deserved, I might add. The dubious honour of wearing “The Visor” at the next outing now falls to me. I’m still trying to work out how I got press-ganged into that particular punishment, but on the bright side… I get a shot back. Get in!
A huge thank you to Alex for sponsoring (even if you did miss the start, you legend), to Macclesfield Golf Club for looking after us, and to all the members who turned up and took the soaking like true golfers.
Next up: The Founders Cup at Brookdale on Saturday 11th April. Col’s favourite hunting ground, where he set the society record of 47 points last year. No pressure, Col… but we’ll all be watching.
See you on the first tee, lads. Bring waterproofs. And maybe a spare driver for Col.
- Mellor & Townscliffe Golf Club: A Quirky Gem in the Peaks
Nestled in the rolling hills of Derbyshire, Mellor & Townscliffe Golf Club stands out like a well-placed tee shot in a sea of mediocrity. What makes it truly unique? It’s one of the rare courses where buggies aren’t just an afterthought—they’re the stars of the show. Paved paths of lush astroturf snake all the way around the 18 holes, turning potential mud-fests into a smooth, carpet-like cruise. It’s like golfing on a giant putting green, minus the frustration of divots… unless you’re Ben Cryer, but more on that later.
Ryder Cup Rumble: USA vs. Europe at Mellor
Our intrepid golf society descended on Mellor for a Ryder Cup-style showdown, kindly sponsored by our fines master extraordinaire, Joe Wilcox—past Captain Chrystal must be beaming from the sidelines. The transatlantic battle pitted Team Europe against Team USA in a clash of clubs, egos, and questionable swing decisions.
Leading the charge for Europe was Captain Joe Wilcox, flanked by his merry band of misfits: Dave Mac (that’s me, your humble narrator), Mike Oakes, Alan Corbishly, and Bert Blower. After our Captains Weekend thrashing could Europe be the underdogs with a continental flair—think croissants and comebacks.
On the starry side, Team USA was captained by Steve, with Colin Butler, Ron Marshal, Stuart Shand, and Ben Cryer rounding out the squad. They came in hot, waving imaginary flags and probably humming “Sweet Home Alabama” under their breath.
The weather gods smiled upon us—reasonably dry, no biblical floods, and the competition rolled on without a hitch. Buggies were in full swing (pun intended), zipping along those astroturf highways like luxury golf carts on a velvet runway. Mellor’s paths are a godsend; elsewhere, you’d be bogged down in mud, but here? It’s pure, artificial bliss.
Clubhouse Shenanigans and Prankster Antics
Back in the clubhouse, the real action heated up. Steve, ever the prankster captain, couldn’t resist his signature move: sneaking up on Mike Oakes for a classic wet Willie. Mike’s reaction? Let’s just say it involved a yelp that could shatter glass and a vow of revenge involving golf balls and sensitive areas. Classic Steve—keeping the spirit alive, one soggy finger at a time.
Financial Windfall and Buggy Blunders
A massive bonus shoutout to our treasurer Len, who discovered winter rates were in play. Cha-ching! The society saved a tidy sum, proving Len’s not just good with spreadsheets—he’s a bargain-hunting ninja.
Anecdotes were slim pickings this outing (we must’ve been too focused on not losing balls), but one gem stands out: our favorite sub-mariner, Ben Cryer, proved he’s better suited to naval vessels than land-based buggies. Coming down the slick path on the 12th, Ben treated the hedge like a torpedo target—crash! The buggy nosedived into the greenery, leaving Ben looking like he’d just surfaced from a depth charge. Note to self: Stick to boats, mate.
The Results: Europe Triumphs (Barely)
In the end, Team Europe squeaked out a 3-2 victory over the Yanks. Take that, stars and stripes! No twos were claimed (slackers), but
Nearest the Pin? Who else but Mike Oakes, the man with a magnet in his ball. Reminder to the rest of us: You gotta hit the green first, lads—airmail doesn’t count!
Best round of the day went to Colin Butler with a whopping 39 points. Will his handicap budge? Doubtful; the golf gods seem to have a soft spot for him. Hot on his heels was yours truly, Dave Mac, with 35 points—modest, but I’ll take it over a bunker baptism.
The infamous Visor (our society’s badge of buggy-related shame) lands on Ben this time. Crashed the cart into a hedge? Fair play, but let’s be honest—his buggy driving was smoother than his tee shots. Practice makes perfect… or at least hedge-free.
Season Finale Tease
That’s a wrap on Mellor, folks—a day of astroturf adventures, pranks, and just enough glory. Next up: the last hurrah of the season at Alsager. Warm coffee, sizzling bacon rolls, and who knows what chaos await. See you on the fairways—bring your A-game (and a helmet for the buggies)!
