How to survive the 7:30 tee time you agreed to at 11pm

There is a version of you that agrees to things. He lives in the group chat between 10pm and midnight and he has never once had to get up in the morning. At 11.48 last night he typed "yeah I'm in" and went back to watching darts. The 7:30 tee time is his fault. You're just the one who has to play it.

These are field notes. I've run this protocol many times. It works, for a given value of works.

Phase one. The alarm

6:05. Do not negotiate with the snooze button, you'll lose, you always lose. Clothes go on in the order they were left on the chair, which is why they were left on the chair. Past you did one thing right. Honour him.

Phase two. The car park

You will arrive to find one member of the group aggressively fine. Ate breakfast, stretched, been up since five. Do not engage. Put the sunglasses on before you get out of the car. This isn't about the sun, the sun isn't even properly up. It's about the other three reading your eyes like a scorecard.

Phase three. Holes 1 to 3

Tee it low. Swing at 70 percent. Say nothing you don't have to say. The water bottle you filled last night does more for you in this stretch than any swing thought ever has. There's no fixing these holes, you're just trying to hand a playable situation to the person you'll become around hole 7.

Phase four. The turn

This is where the round starts. The fog lifts. Somewhere around here you'll hit one flush, completely out of nowhere, and someone will say "there he is", and they'll be right. Wet the corner of the towel, back of the neck, carry on as if the front nine happened to somebody else. Because honestly, it did.

Final note. You'll play the back nine better than you've played all month. Nobody knows why. Science has looked into it and gone home.

See you Saturday. 7:30. You already said yes.