It’s another stinking hot day in Melbourne with the mercury bubbling at near forty degrees. I’m stranded at a railway crossing on the busy Toorak Road on my way to Malvern Valley golf course in Melbourne’s South Eastern suburbs. Some friends of mine had booked us in for a round and I was already running late amongst heavy traffic. My desire to go on was melting under the searing heat outside and the sauna like conditions inside my car. I was under pressure from my friends to arrive on time as I had been late on previous occasions and the booking had been made three weeks ago. I thought to myself, i could do without the added scrutiny of my drive off the tee in front of impatient onlookers.