My father dragged me out to a golf club near Oreti beach in Invercargill, promising that being his caddy for a day would be fun.
The real reason behind my sudden rise in popularity was my mother needed me gone to make my birthday cake.
So, I went golfing.
I recall being excited about it. But I was forced to pull a trolley full of clubs around after my father - who took significantly bigger steps than I - for 18 painful holes.
It was then I learnt the hard way the caddy is not supposed to pull the trolley across the lovely, green manicured circles of grass (aka the green).
At the ripe age of 7, I concluded golf and I didn't mix.
Yet, with the 2009 Michael Hill New Zealand Golf Open upon us, I decided it was time to banish the demons and, with one telephone call to Jacks Point golf director John Griffin, I had a date with a golf club.
The first conundrum was what to wear. I was advised it would be appropriate to wear knee-high socks, a short, pleated skirt, a polo shirt and a cute visor.
Taking the mickey for the purpose of a story is one thing.
Being dressed like an idiot while taking the mickey for the purpose of a story is an experience I would likely never live down.
I opted for flat shoes and trousers.
My father was apparently fairly good at golf.
I doubted the skill was in my genes.
At Jacks Point, I was decked out with some "ladies" clubs. Apparently, these are lighter than the ones the blokes use.
Balls were organised and I was handed some objects which resembled large nails.
These were, in fact, "tees".
After a quick trip on the golf cart, we arrived at the green area - noticeably well away from anyone else.
It was there the lesson began, with Griff demonstrating how one should hit a ball.
It all looked fairly straightforward.
However, I was soon to find out it's not quite as simple as walking up to the ball and giving it a good wallop.
I was given an intensive lesson on stance and grip.
The stance deal wasn't too bad - except for the part where I had to stick my nether region out, which would have given my old ballet teacher a conniption - but the grip was very technical indeed.
Apparently, if a golfer does not have the right grip, the player will likely be yelling "Fore" all day . . Unfortunately, I didn't know what "Fore" meant at this time and our photographer had to take cover more than once.
The grip involved an imaginary clock face on the handle of the club and very particular thumb and finger placing.
Once those two were "mastered", it was on to the important bit. The hitting of the ball.
To say I was apprehensive is an understatement. I have written several stories about Jacks Point. I have visited Jacks Point several times. I have heard many people who know about these things comment on what a phenomenal course Jacks Point is.
I was about to destroy Jacks Point grass.
Hence, like a genteel lady, I delicately tried to hit the ball while avoiding the grass.
I did manage to miss the grass. I also managed to miss the ball. Completely.
After another few attempts I was advised to get a bit of mongrel in me (not Griff's exact words, but that was the gist of it).
So, I "mongrelled" up.
I did connect with the ball, right after I took a large amount of grass out of Jacks Point.
For a non-golfer, this was not something to be proud of.
I half expected Griff to tell me off, throw his clubs in the cart and accelerate off into the distance.
Instead, he congratulated me.
Apparently, it's perfectly acceptable.
From there on there was no holding me back as I made divot after divot after divot.
Most of the time I missed the ball, but tearing holes in the grass was a fabulous form of stress relief.
After no time at all I graduated to a club, which had something to do with wood, and a tee was inserted into the grass.
When hit correctly, the club connects with the underside of the ball giving it a bit of air (which up until this point had not occurred) and plenty of distance.
Key words there: when hit correctly.
The ball didn't so much travel in one of those lovely arcs in the direction in which I wanted it to, as slice through the air in a flat line at a trajectory that only just missed the photographer's head (who was kneeling). It was only about 75 degrees to the right of where I was aiming for.
Taking the positive out of this - at least I hit the ball.
Griff was determined I was going to hit the ball correctly - in the right direction - and be able to strike the stereotypical nonchalant golfing pose, club over the shoulder, gazing off into the distance, admiring my own skill.
And I did. In the process I broke the tee.
I may have squealed and done a little victory dance -I think golfers need to choreograph victory dances instead of air punches (it's far more entertaining and visually stimulating). Griff then decided it was time to move to the 18th hole for a little putting lesson.
I gripped, I stanced, I swung and I cracked it . . . which is not a good idea when you're putting.
I repeated this exercise again. And again. And again. And I missed every time.
Finally, with the photographer in a key position, I managed to get my ball in the hole. I did another little victory dance before, like all really good golfers, retreating to the 19th, where I marvelled at my own golfing prowess and decided maybe this golfing lark was not so bad after all.
Idiot's guide to golfing etiquette - what's acceptable and what's not
It is perfectly acceptable - in fact the norm - for you to scream at the top of your lungs in support of anyone at the most crucial point of most sporting events. However, in golf, if you decide to give verbal support to your favourite player during the swing, you can expect to feel like an idiot, be told off by a lot of people (possibly even your favourite golfer) and wish you had read this before you walked on to the course.
Acceptable: Polite clapping and verbal support AFTER the golfer has hit the ball.
Unacceptable: Screaming "Go Danny Lee!" when Danny Lee has begun his back swing.
Tip: If everyone else is quiet, best you be quiet too.
Acceptable: Having your cellphone in your pocket, on silent, so you can monitor incoming calls and text messages.
Unacceptable: Not having your cellphone on silent, answering it on the course to have someone tell you they are watching you on the telly, exclaiming "Oh my God, how exciting!" before turning to the nearest TV camera waving and yelling "Hi Mum!"
Tip: If your life really does depend on having your cellphone on and with you at all times and it is absolutely imperative you answer it, head to Main Street, or at least well away from the golfing action and talk in muted tones. Best advice: Leave your phone turned off, or at home.
Acceptable: Having a few drinks while meandering around the golf course watching the play. Drinking plenty of water is encouraged.
Unacceptable: Getting well and truly sloshed, falling over, vomiting and relieving yourself anywhere in view of the public.
Tip: If you're more interested in the social aspect of the golf, best hang out on Main Street where you can party all you want. Remember it could take four hours to follow a golfer around a course and you can dehydrate quickly. Drink water and take a sandwich with you. Food will also be available at stands around the course.
Acceptable: Taking advantage of the food and drink available on the course and disposing of the rubbish in appropriate receptacles.
Unacceptable: Lobbing your rubbish at a golfer you're not supporting while simultaneously hurling abuse at them, or leaving your rubbish on the course.
Tip: If you can't find a rubbish bin, carry your rubbish with you until you see one.
Acceptable: Dressing for the occasion. This is not the Melbourne Cup. You don't have to wear a three-piece suit or a cocktail dress and stilettos. Make sure you're comfortable and dressed for the weather. That includes sunscreen. Make sure you have plenty on and take plenty of clothing with you.
Unacceptable: Turning up on day two of the 2009 Michael Hill New Zealand Open resembling a lobster because you forgot to wear sunblock.
Tip: Even if it's overcast or windy, wear sunblock.
Acceptable: If you really need to have a cigarette, it's best to head to Main Street for your nicotine fix.
Unacceptable: Lighting up in the middle of the crowd, blowing smoke in other people's faces and then chucking your cigarette before it's been extinguished into long grass causing a fire, which would not make Michael Hill happy.
Tip: Leave the smoking for Main Street and always dispose of your butts in an appropriate way.
Acceptable: Taking your digital camera down to Main Street, getting a few candid shots to post on Facebook or email to all your mates, making them jealous you're here and they're not.
Unacceptable: Taking pictures of your favourite player on the course, particularly if you're going to take a picture right before the crucial moment. Golfers, caddies, organisers and others frown on this . . . big time. If you're hellbent on taking pictures of golfers, be prepared to be singled out, yelled at and have your precious camera broken.
Tip: Even the media have to abide by very strict rules and regulations when it comes to taking pictures of golfers. While it's tempting to get a shot of your favourite player in action, resist the urge. Either leave your camera in its case and save it for the party, or try to take pictures of your favourite golfer while he's walking between holes.
PS from golfing writer Dave Cannan: "What is TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE [i.e. punishable by death!] is any idiot who yells 'Get In The Hole'. I will personally hunt these people down and remove certain appendages from their bodies." You have been warned.
