A divoteer is an old-fashioned word for a golfer. It appeared on a recent page of the daily edition of Jeff Kacirk’s Forgotten English calendar, which sits on the desk of my home office.

I’m not a regular player anymore, more of a lapsed player, so not really a devoted divoteer. I do, however, like to watch it when I can, either on screen or very occasionally at an event.

With golf more than anything, I feel, you miss it when you don’t play, and then wonder why you missed when you do play. You have to practise, practise, practise; the margins are so fine that you have to trust to a very well grooved swing and feel.

As such, for me the sport often feels like a template for work as well as play. Not necessarily a case that you miss work when you’re sunning yourself on the beaches of the Med, more so that the more you hone your craft, the better you get at it. The devoted divoteer can take the same approach down the fairways and corridors of work too.

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