Duos such as Burke and Wills, Serena and Venus, Bert and Ernie, The Captain and Tennille simply roll off the tongue and on and on we could go.

Golf in the South West has gotten in on the doubles act and we should all be grateful.

When things started going pear shaped (pardon the pun) back in March, the game of golf was off the table.

As governments worldwide scrambled to chart a course of safety for their citizens through the COVID unknown, understandably the game we all know and love took a backseat role to agendas such as finance, pharmaceuticals, groceries and the simple act of breathing.

Though many were outraged that the ancient game was no longer deemed necessary, you only need to look at several calamities around the globe to believe that if any of the Sharknado films were produced in said countries in the year 2020, they could quite comfortably be classified as documentaries.

Fast forward to August, and as our friends in the largest city to our right are suffering through stage 4 restrictions, we are fortunate enough to be outside playing golf socially in groups of two.

Yes, we may all look like dentists who left the surgery in a hurry. However, the masks we wear are not only a small price to pay for own health and safety, but a terrific way to show allegiance to the greater good of the challenges facing the great state we live in. And the world, for that matter.

Bearing all of this in mind, the positives of having to play golf in twos far outweigh the negatives associated with halving your usual playing group.

Firstly, you can pretend that you are in the final pairing of a major PGA or LPGA event as you manoeuvre your way around the course, quietly plotting the demise of your playing partner's own game.

Your mistakes, though surely rare, will only be noted and potentially commented on by one other witness rather than the usual three.

When it comes to all-important time restraints, scooting around the links has never been quicker and, most importantly, this time around we are actually allowed to be playing.

So the next time you come out to Port Fairy Golf Links and send your ball sailing into the Southern Ocean, or spear your approach directly into the murky depths of the 18th burn, or even embed your ball so deeply into a clump of marram grass that you require a map, a compass, a Texta and an air strike to retrieve it, just remember: "How lucky am I?"

Sometimes, rather than lamenting the hows or whys of something you'd like to be doing, it's better to be thankful for what you can actually do.