After qualifying for the Rijnmond Open nine years in a row, for the first time I failed to make the cut. The last couple of weeks I spent much time training myself and practicing endlessly, but to no avail.

I played terribly and for the life of me I just could not get my act together. My body was stiff and refused to obey the commands from my brain. That combined with an unusual streak of bad luck brought me to my knees.

The cut for the final weekend was 89 which I missed by two lousy strokes shooting a 49 + 42 = 91. When I normally easily shoot in the high seventies to low eighties.

This has really bummed me out, and it is difficult for me to accept. Golf is a brutal and unforgiving sport, and it doesn't improve one's chances as you grow older and wiser.

Oh well, my day will come another time in the not so distant future, or so I keep trying to convince myself.