When Hairy met Sally

I felt strangely comfortable in the skirt, which is rather alarming. The gentle wind wafting up between my legs on this rather mild Cape Town midwinter's day was quietly liberating. I don't usually wear dresses – except for that one time at varsity, but we won't go into that. Complementing the skirt was a touch of blush and lipstick. You see, I need to look my best for Sally. The occasion demands it. The venue is the newly refurbished Metropolitan Golf Club in Green Point, Cape Town, and I am here to go head-to-head against Sally Little, winner of two LPGA Majors and surely the greatest female golfer to come out of South Africa.

And as I see her for the first time on the putting green, I realise probably one of the best looking as well. Only 58 years young, Sally's still got it. “Howya doin, Simon?” she said, looking up and smiling sweetly, with just a hint of an American accent. I notice that we're wearing a similar shade of lipstick. “You have really sexy legs!” she laughed, giving me the once-over. I blushed despite the blush.

Wow, Sally sure knew how to make a girl feel special; a nice touch, I suppose, given the hiding I was about to receive. Oh, and as if 15 tour wins – including two Majors – wasn't enough of an advantage over a guy in a dress who had just recently learnt how to hold a pen properly, Sally's home course also happened to be Metropolitan. Yip, from the tender age of 12, Ms Little has been traversing the fairways and greens of this quaint little nine-hole course, which certainly didn't bode well for yours truly. Oh, and did I mention she was a pro? Just checking.

After sinking 15 putts across the length of the sizeable practice green, Sally decided it was time to head off. Why delay the inevitable, hey? A ladies' agreement on the par-three 1st tee-box would see me still going off the men’s – despite the skirt – and Sally off the ladies.

She'd be playing off scratch, giving me four shots. With the ground rules firmly established, and the way-better-than-Durban Cape Town Stadium as a backdrop, I nervously teed it up. The 8-iron shank that followed was, without a doubt, one of the most disappointing moments of my life. All the verbal jousting that was exchanged on our way to the tee-box faded into obscurity as I spectacularly blew the chance to throw down the gauntlet, stake my claim, and command respect in the mind of this seasoned pro, who I think was hoping to wrap up this encounter in time to catch a spot of lunch somewhere in Camps Bay. Heck, after that start, she probably thought breakfast was still on the cards.

With her tail well up, Sally then showed me what had made her so successful during her 28 years on the LPGA Tour. Her honed swing, partly out of fear and partly out of admiration (but mainly fear), sent tiny shivers down my spine. The end result made me want to burst into tears, as the ball settled not three metres from the pin. I, on the other hand, would need three days’ water supply and a small 4x4 to find my ball in the long, thick grass – a thought I wasn't too keen on entertaining. Instead, I elected to drop and resigned myself to a double-bogey five. Sally (shock, horror) missed her birdie putt and took three. Not that it mattered though, I'd cooked my goose with the tee shot and was 1 down after one.

By some minor miracle I managed to pull myself towards myself and halve holes 2 through 4 with pars. The par-four 5th, though, was an absolute 'mare. Two hooked drives, a duffed chip and three putts later and I was quite prepared to end my life in the bunker in front of the green. Sally (aka Little Miss Perfect) had obviously split the fairway and parred the hole, meaning I was now 2 down.

I would just like to mention that the novelty of wearing a dress was now beginning to fade. The lack of support you-knowwhere was making my you-know-whats feel like a Newton's Cradle. Combine that with a mild chafe and the indignity of actually being in a dress in the first place, and you're looking at a less lessthan- happy camper. Going 3 down on the par-five 7th compounded that misery. This chick was ruthless, but I was certainly not doing myself any favours, displaying about as much BMT as Jean van de Velde at Carnoustie.

The halfway house was a chance to regroup and retouch some of my make-up, which was now starting to run a bit in the warm weather. It was also a chance to have a good ol’ chat to Sally and hopefully distract her enough into letting me win a hole. Over a tuna on rye sandwich, she regaled me with tales of her time on tour and brought me up to speed with what she's doing now. And you'll be interested to know that despite handing me my tushy on the golf course, Sally is also pretty busy off it, developing and marketing her own range of high-end linen. (As the great Dale Hayes said: “I finally got the chance to sleep with Sally Little.” His dreams. Sally's nightmares.)

She's also been trying her hand at jewellery and golf course design with Kingswood, outside George, being one of her masterpieces. Fifteen minutes at halfway and I felt as though I'd known Sally for years. She ‘s just that kind of person. Our newly forged friendship would have to take a back seat though, if I was going to rescue what was rapidly becoming an embarrassing afternoon.

Mercifully, the shank that forced me to ask some pretty searching questions as to why I actually play golf didn't rear its ugly head as I teed off on the 10th. This time my ball chose to submerge itself under 30 centimetres of sand in the bunker at the front of the green. Sally: 8-iron, perfect swing, two bounces, backspin, three feet. You know the drill. I hacked out for a four, while she made an oh-sopredictable three. Four down. It was then that the Compleat Golfer camera crew rocked up to snap the less-than-flattering pictures you’re looking at today.

Up until that point it had just been Sally and me. Perhaps it was the need to not appear like a complete novice with absolutely no talent, but their arrival stirred something deep within me. I felt as though I had allies, that I wasn’t alone any more. The free lesson from Sally on the 11th fairway, highlighting a small (tiny) technical fault in my swing, might also have had something to do with the comeback. Readjusting my jocks, which were now actually a G-string, I set about pulling the game from the fire.

What followed were scenes reminiscent of the '99 Ryder Cup at Brookline. Birdies on 12, 13 and 14 marked the beginning of a comeback and brought me to within one. The effect on the Compleat Golfer crew was also quite remarkable, and I could see it took all their willpower not to run onto the green in delirious joy and hoist me jubilantly onto their shoulders as yet another long-range putt found the cup. If I look back now, I can say that it was probably this shared euphoria that proved to be my undoing.

You see, tour pros of Sally’s calibre thrive on a challenge. It goads them, spurs them on to greater heights, and makes them play better. Up until then she had been a supercar doing 160km/h in third, indulging me. The resurgence from Team Compleat I could see amused her, but enough was enough now (she had missed that lunch), and, like a cat that grows tired of toying with a mouse, she went in for the kill. Death itself was a relatively painless affair, and came in the form of a Little birdie on the par-four 17th. I could only manage a par and, just like that, it was all over – a 2 & 1 loss.

I was left rearranging my jocks on the green, wondering how it had all gone so awry. And then it occurred to me: I was never really in it to begin with. Somewhat dejected, Team Compleat trudged off to the clubhouse. Ms Little was already in the bar… waiting. She was thirsty and I was buying. Was I disappointed? A bit. Would I be happy to slip out of the skirt and make-up? You bet. As for Sally, well it turns out I was just another notch on her belt.

WHO IS SALLY LITTLE?

Born: Cape Town, South Africa

Started playing golf: aged 12

Career record: Won the SA Amateur matchplay and strokeplay titles in 1971 and finished as the low individual in the World Amateur Team Championships

• As an amateur, Sally finished fifth in her first professional event, prompting her to turn pro
• Spent 28 years on the LPGA Tour
• 1971 LPGA Rookie of the Year
• 34th on LPGA Tour winners list
• 15 LPGA Tour wins, including two Majors - the 1980 LPGA and the Du Maurier Ltd Classic (now known as the CN Canadian Open)  

Best season: 1982 (four wins and third on the moneylist)

Years spent in the States: 30

Most memorable moment on tour: Winning my first title (the Ladies Masters at Moss Creek) by sinking a 70-foot bunker shot on the 72nd hole to win by one over Jan Stephenson

Best golfers you've ever played with: Gary Player and Greg Norman

Hobbies outside golf: Focusing on making a difference in junior golf and women's cancers. I sit on the board of both the Ackerman Academy at Clovelly as well as the Duke of York's Young Champion Series. I am in the process of establishing a foundation in support of women's cancers, patient care and support

Favourite course in the whole wide world: There are so many that are my favourites, I don't care to choose just one. That's the designer in me!