The Hacker | Peter Corrigan

What long-johns do for my style

Upwards of a million moths are being made homeless as golfers all over the country rummage in forgotten corners for their crumpled and heavily crusted long-johns and give them a good shake in order to evict their inhabitants.

Since it has been an unusually mild autumn thus far, we have had a merciful delay before experiencing that dread moment when the first chill of winter whispers up the inside of your trouser legs. For many golfers, this is a signal to stick the clubs away for the winter. The majority of those would be the better players, who are reluctant to expose their treasured skills to the rigours of the dark months.

Hackers don't have that luxury. Our flimsy grasp of the game's finer points would not survive a lay-off of several months. Unless we keep in weekly touch with the game, those muscles and joints we have tirelessly attempted to drill in the mechanics of the golf swing would soon lose what little discipline they possess.

However, this determination to carry on regardless does require certain protection against what winter can do to an already creaking body. Long-johns are the very basis of that defence. The ideal garment would be the sort of combinations favoured by Clint Eastwood in some of his western films. Sadly, these appear to have gone out of fashion. Indeed, long-johns themselves were not easily obtainable until fairly recently, and in my early days of golf it was not unusual for men to wear pair of ladies' tights on particularly cold days.

Legend has it that this started when one golfer asked another: "How long have been wearing ladies' tights?" The reply was: "Ever since the wife found them on the back seat of my car."

These days, long-johns, especially the thermal variety, are commonplace, and are often matched with a long-sleeved thermal vest. This is merely the first layer. Over this you don a thick pair of trousers, a polo-neck sweater and at least one heavy jersey. A bobble hat completes the ensemble.

This is another reason why the winter appeals more to the hacker than the good player – the more clothes you put on, the less easy it is to swing smoothly. The unco-ordinated lunger, therefore, comes into his own.

Neither are freezing-cold hands conducive to a fluid stroke. Since hackers have little sensitivity in their hands in the middle of summer, this is not such a handicap. With the ground rock-hard, a swift, sharp jab can send even a topped shot trundling along for 150 yards. And once you get near the green, you needn't bother with fancy pitching and chipping. You can use your putter from miles away.

When it rains, the good players groan even louder. You have to put on waterproof leggings and struggle into a voluminous overjacket. Deck-hands on North Sea trawlers have more freedom of movement.

Considering we were still in short-sleeved shirts last weekend, no one can complain, and it was made all the more enjoyable by the fact that it was pouring down and blowing a gale along the bottom of the Iberian peninsular. But the old hands know that the balmy times are over and it's time for the all-weather golfers to step up and claim their destiny. As they say, winter drawers on.