Statistics: just numbers?

Who was it that said; “Statistics? There just numbers, right?” I can reveal that it this was the expression used by one of my losing tennis opponents on Wednesday evening, but on this occasion he was not referring to the scale of my victory, by which I mean the one exacted by myself and Moustachioed old git (MOG) the elder, often known as the wingco on our hapless opponents, or was he?

Statistics are a part of the game of golf as well, and yesterday was no exception, where I whipped a whippersnapper of 69 and an Australian (which always gives me extra pleasure) of a similar age to me on the golf course. Luckily for them no money was being wagered, but I won out in a very real sense as I also now have two new customers for Currencies Direct. Thus you will know that the bill for lunch will be submitted to my accountant as a justifiable business expense.

Amongst the people whom I met for the first time was a solicitor who looked more like a member of AC-DC, who spoke of his round the world 15 month trip in his yacht. He had a great sense of humour, which must have been almost as good as my own solicitor who also exhibited a great sense if humour, especially when it comes to invoicing.

My picture today was taken at the second tee at the Victoria Golf course where the International Club of the Riviera were staging a golf gathering. The club is so international that even Australians are allowed in, but as long as they continue to lose everything meekly, then I personally extend them a warm welcome.

The second hole at Victoria Golf Course

My piece in yesterdays column about speedos brought a myriad of responses. My old friend Peter Lynn described them as budgie smugglers. I love the expression, but it does pose some questions; yes I am going to pose them. Why budgies?, who would want to smuggle them, and why would one do so by secreting them in ones swimming garments? I am hoping Mr Lynn can enlighten us.

My friend from earlier days, Julie, a regular reader, and indeed contributor to the comments section of this column, who fondly remembers being as she put it “my squeeze” a great number of years ago, pays tribute to the fine figure of a man that she recalls so well, by suggesting that speedos should only be worn by young adonis-like olympic swimmers and those with a similar physique. If you put these two facts together I think you get a good idea of why I was so attractive to ladies of the opposite sex (as a close friend once described the fairer sex) in my younger days< not that I am unattractive now. I do hope that she is not still lusting after the young men in tight clothing.

Today I am hoping to drink back some of the bank charges imposed on my meagre fortune by bankers at Credit Du Nord. They have kindly invited me to a golf day at the Grande Bastide, although at this stage they don’t know it, as the invitation came via former rugby player Gerald Gomis, the once sent me some very loving texts, but claimed he thought he was sending them to his wife. I told him I love him too.  It is an 18 hole Texas Scramble, which golfers will know s a particular format of the game and not an episode of Dynasty.

After all this work for Currencies Direct on the golf courses this week,  I shall take a few days off from golf and work until a quiet lunch on Sunday, Fathers Day, and hope for a result.

Chris France