One Armed Bandit - The Back Story

My Golfing Life

I've been swinging a golf club pretty much as long as I can remember. I’ve been a member of my golf club (Chislehurst Golf Club) since I was 11, which makes it 37 years. CGC is definitely my happy place and golf, for me, is sport, competition, fun, challenge, mental space, fitness and self-improvement, as well as, of course, a source of endless frustration.

Albatross??

I’m not a bad golfer. Current handicap index is 3. Lowest ever (only last year) was 1.1. I’ve won my fair share of club competitions, including 2 Club Championships. Never the most consistent (who is?) but on my day, I can give anyone a good game. The photo above is from when I holed my second shot on the par 5 first at Chislehurst, my first of of the Club Championship in 2022. Unfortunately, I doubled the second and third. Hey Ho!

The First Signs of Trouble

Over the last year and a half, my wrist started hurting. There was no particular event, no fall, no hitting a tree root, no drunkenly falling off a chair in the 19th hole. It was very localised to start with - a fairly mild pain down the pinky side of my left wrist, underneath my watch strap. Occasionally I would get a cramp down the side of my left hand. Not terrible - just annoying.

So began a long sequence of visits to physios, doctors, consultants, surgeons, hand therapists and more. I was subjected to massage, manipulation, acupuncture, ultrasound, splints, lotions and potions, x rays and scans. Nothing really seemed to make a long lasting difference. I even tried not playing golf!!!! But even that didn’t work. It was clearly something that wouldn’t magically get better by itself.

Playing Through Pain

Most of the time, golf was doable, just with a bit of pain and soreness afterwards. Occasionally, particularly if I didn’t get a good strike, my wrist hurt at the point of impact. This was not enough to stop me playing. A little bit of pain was acceptable for the pay-off of getting away from the stresses of work and to spend time on the course with my mates and fellow CGC members.

During the 2024 playing season the pain got worse and worse until I couldn't ignore it anymore. I suspected surgery was on the horizon, but I wasn't ready to give up golf yet. I decided to push through the pain for as long as I could, hoping it would somehow get better. 

Every round was a gamble. Sometimes I could go a few holes without noticing it, and other times every shot was painful. I even started rating my rounds by how many times I involuntarily yelled out. “That was only a 5 ‘ow’ round, so not too bad.” Standing over a shot knowing, or at least suspecting, that it was going to be painful kinda took the joy out of it a bit.

The Final Straw

It was frustrating knowing that things were only going to get worse, but I didn’t want to stay off the course completely. I needed the exercise, fresh air, and the social side of golf. I tried to adapt my swing, focusing on shots that wouldn't aggravate my wrist. The funny thing was, I was actually playing some pretty good golf. I shot a couple of 1 over par rounds and most were 3 to 5 over. Much more consistent than my usual game.

But I gradually admitted to myself that it couldn’t go on. The pain was no longer so localised and I was now getting pain all across the back of my hand and even into my left thumb. So I bit the bullet and went to see a new consultant to talk about where to go next. This consultant was more confident that he knew what the problem was. Apparently the big bone in my forearm - the ulnar - was rubbing into the bones in my wrist.

The Medical Bit…

I've put the gory details into a separate post but, in short, I was given the option of a bigger operation that had a greater chance of fixing the problem or a less invasive keyhole procedure which might fix it, but no promises.

Choices!

The idea of the more invasive surgery wasn’t exactly appealing – it sounded pretty serious.  Ideally I only wanted to go through surgery once but if there was a chance of an easy win with the keyhole surgery and a quicker recovery, I felt I should start there. Who would want a slice taken out of their forearm if they didn’t have to?

So I decided to start with the keyhole surgery. I figured it was worth a shot, and if it didn't work, I could always go back for the more invasive procedure. 

Under the Knife

The surgery itself went smoothly, but when I woke up, my wrist was swollen and stiff and hidden by a massive bandage. It looked like a big, white loofah. The surgeon explained that he'd found some damaged cartilage (grade 4) and a tear in the TFCC (a small complex area made up of ligaments, tendons and cartilage which helps support and stabilize your wrist). 

4 to 6 Weeks???

I was certainly surprised after the surgery when he said I wouldn't be able to drive for 4 to 6 weeks and that full recovery would be much longer. He was talking about driving cars but I was already thinking about when I could get back out on the course. I hadn't realised it would be that long and it dawned on me that there would also be an impact on family life. My poor wife, Laura, would have to do 100% of the school runs, shopping trips and even take me up to the club for a beer. It was definitely disappointing, but it also made me even more determined to work hard on my recovery. 

The Road to Recovery

The next stage was starting physiotherapy. I went to see a specialist hand therapist who gave me some exercises to improve the mobility and strength in my wrist. I was excited to start the recovery process. I felt like I was finally taking the first steps towards getting back to normal. 

But after a couple of weeks, I realised it was going to be a much slower process than I'd hoped. My wrist was still really stiff and sore. 

So when can I play golf again?

Around then, my son told me he wanted to play a few holes and asked would I play with him. I think he had momentarily forgotten about my operation and I replied by pointing to my heavily bandaged left wrist. But then an idea started forming…

The Loofah!

The first thought was that I could take him to the club and walk round a few holes. I’d been stuck inside for a while trying to protect my wrist and getting bored. And then it came to me… I’ve still got one good arm. I grabbed a couple of clubs and off we went.

Back on Course

We played 9 holes and I hit every shot one handed. I didn’t really have a choice. I still had the big bandage and at that point any movement of the wrist at all sent waves of pain shooting up my arm.

I really enjoyed it. Some parts of the game, like chipping and putting, felt vaguely natural, but hitting longer shots was definitely a challenge. I didn’t count the shots - it wasn’t about that. It was really fun to be back out on the course, even with the limitations. 

Painfully slow

At that point, I assumed I’d be better in a few weeks and this one-handed thing would just be a brief novelty. However, the recovery from the op was VERY slow - several months rather than the few weeks I’d been expecting. I was extremely diligent with my physio exercises but my flexibility and strength were improving at a snail’s pace. I had played a couple more one-handed rounds - with lots of questions from playing partners and with very mixed results. Fourteen weeks after the op, my physio gave me the green light to try some light chipping. The result… it hurt. Not too bad, but pretty much like it used to be.

The Bad News is…

I went for a follow up with the surgeon and he confirmed what I was suspecting - the keyhole op had not been successful. Day to day, the pain wasn’t really too bad. But the surgeon had an uncanny ability to find the pressure point… “Does it hurt when I do this?”... The answer was a resounding yes. The symptoms were just as bad as before the op, if anything a bit worse. I booked a scan so he could see if anything had changed since the last scan and we left it there.

Pee Em Ay

If you don’t get the reference from my sub-heading, it's from a Persil TV ad from the 80s or 90s featuring Linford Christie and talking about Positive Mental Attitude. Somehow, despite the bad news from the surgeon, I resolved to stay positive and not let it get me down. I quickly realised that whether or not I went for the big op this time round, I wasn’t going to be playing proper golf for a while. 

However, I felt lucky that I played a sport where playing without a limb was even a possibility and I started thinking about playing a bit more one-handed golf. It seemed like the only option if I wanted to keep golfing. I was also lucky to have a wife and family that supported me through my recovery and was even - kinda - supportive of my crazy one-handed golf idea.

PMA!

I also wondered whether playing one-handed could actually improve my game in the long run. Maybe it would help me develop better balance or give me a deeper understanding of the golf swing. 

What Now?

So that gets us more or less up to date. I’m planning to keep playing one-handed for now - who knows when my left hand will be golfable - and to see where I can get to. I’m excited. I feel like a beginner even though it’s a game I’ve been playing my whole life. I guess some people wouldn’t want to feel that way - that they would rather give up than play crap golf. But I’d rather play crap golf than no golf at all. And I’ve already realised that the thrill of hitting a pure shot is the same - just the distance is different.

This article is much longer than I thought it would be. If anyone has read all the way down to here - I’m impressed. I don’t know if my story will be interesting to anyone. There must be a million people who can’t do what they love for some reason and therefore try something else. Either way, I’ll post a few updates as I go along. 

I’d be really interested to hear people’s thoughts. Am I just a golf nut? Would you do the same thing? Should I quit and take up padel like the rest of the human race? Let me know.

Ciao for now!

PS. Just in case you didn't know... a 'bandit' in golf is someone who's actually ability is better than their handicap. It's explained much better than I can here.