The Degree Sham & its effects....

I'm no con-man, at least not on the same scale as Frank Abagnale, who would be Number 1 in a who's who of world famous con-men, but I do have an inordinary gift for lying convincingly.

I first noticed that I had this ability when I was a young boy...

I'd been caught illegally playing on the Baberton Golf Club course with a friend of mine and had to bluff my way out of being taken to the clubhouse.

Dougie B* and I were playing the bottom end of the 4th hole which, thanks to a blind drive, was unsighted from the tee. Whenever a golf ball landed on the bottom end of the fairway we'd pick up our ball and mark where our lie was with twigs and head into the woods that grew along the side of the fairway to wait for the golfer to putt out and take his drive back over the hill on the 5th fairway.

On the day we were caught we were playing a round of pitch and putt with a 7 iron, a sand wedge for bunker shots, a putter and a porn mag. Which Dougie claimed that he had found in his mothers bedroom.

At the time I considered this strange. There were no men in it at all, only women who had a tendency to munch muff and titillate tits. I remember thinking something along the lines of "Mrs B* can't possibly be a lesbian, she's had a child." Little did I know that lesbianism, like strokes and aneurysms, can strike at any point in a woman's life. Ho ho.

We had taken our pitch shots, from just below the crest of the hill, onto the green. Due to us lining up our putts we failed to notice the ball that dropped into the bunker next to the green, and 20 yards from where we had stashed our jackets and the porn mag while we played.

As Dougie putted, for what we were counting as a birdie, a loud shout broke the silence in our imaginary gallery of spectators and we both looked up the fairway to see a disgruntled member running towards us with an angry look on his face and brandishing his golfing umbrella like it was a sword.

Almost immediately, I said to Dougie "Be cool man. We're fine. Leave it to me. Just putt like there is a game being played." He looked at me and I smiled.

As the member approached us shouting, "This is a private golf course, you have no right to be here." I looked towards him, put my finger over my lips in a "Shhh" motion and said to Dougie "This is for par." The member looked stunned for a second and then stood silently at the side of the green while Dougie putted.

Thanks to our amount of playing time on the bottom of the 4th hole we knew the green very well and Dougie sank his fifteen foot putt like an open champion. The member watched in amazement, applauded Dougies' putt and walked over to question us.

I could see that my action of Shushing him and Dougies monster putt had sewn the seed of doubt in his head and all I had to do was play it cool.

The member asked who we were and what we were doing playing on the course with no bags. I told him the tale that I had sliced my ball into the woods at the side of the fairway and had decided to have my playing partner play out and then we were going back to look for my ball so that we did not hold up other players.

He seemed to buy the excuse and asked who had signed us onto the course. I told him that my uncle was a member and that he had signed us on and was waiting in the clubhouse having a drink and talking business with the Secretary while we played a quick 9 holes.

As the sound of "Talking business" hit his ears I could see in his eyes that he had severe doubts about hauling us by the scruff of the neck to the clubhouse and told us to have a good round and walked towards the bunker to take his shot. We stood and watched as he chipped onto the green and Dougie removed the flagstick for him as he putted out.

He then asked us if we would like a hand looking for my ball but we told him it was no bother and just to play through. He walked over to the 5th tee and whipped off a drive over the brow of the hill and set off with a wave towards us and a shout of "Tell your uncle I'm asking for him."

... But I digress. This is not dealing with the story at hand. This is merely letting you see a small part of my past and we didn't come here to discuss that, we came here to tell the story of The Degree Sham and it's effects. So here goes.

For the last couple of weeks I've been telling the members of the club that I work in that I have a degree in Astrophysics. And all of them have fallen for it. With no exceptions.

This has caused many a look of amazement from them and I have bluffed my way through their inquiries about the subject by saying... "It's all to do with the motion of planetary bodies in space, physics, quantum mechanics, molecules and relativity... I can explain it if you want..." To which the answer is always "No, it's fine. Some things are best not understood." Or something in a similar vein.

It's been a hoot.

The only downside to this has been that I am now the first person that anyone comes to when a difference of opinion occurs in the bar. I'm forever hearing the words "Ross, you've got a degree come and settle an argument for us..." And I'm left trying to bluff a reasonable opinion on whatever subject is the source of their angst.

Because of this I have found that if you keep blaming the shortsightedness of the most senior figurehead in whatever the subject is then you will mostly get away with even the biggest load of bullshit and be seen to be wise.

Then again... I'm only bluffing a load of bowlers. How difficult can that be?