Golf Monthly Carnoustie Blog

published 9 July 2007

Sunday 22 July, 4.10pm, Media Centre, Carnoustie Paul O'Hagan?..

Luke and I have just returned after following a disgruntled Tiger for five holes. On our way back we decided to walk down the last hole to take in the atmosphere. The grandstands are quickly filling up as crowds take their positions on one of the finest finishing holes I have ever seen.

Nice guy of the week has to go Green?s playing partner Jerry Kelly. In the knowledge that Green was doing well the American made sure the crowds were still when Green was playing. He then stood and applauded the Australian as he crossed the burn. After the customary handshakes Kelly took his driver and presented it to a young boy in the crowd who was in a wheelchair. He left the green with an ovation from the crowd ? great stuff from the likable American.

It?s a very weird feeling sitting here in the media centre watching the rain pelt down. Every fibre of my body wants to be out there, lapping up the final day of the Open Championship (quite literally at the moment) but every time I pop my head out of the door, I begin to realise that there is something absolutely vital that I need to do back at my desk? I have now doodled an extremely impressive looking spaceship manned by a strange dog creature.

It hasn?t helped that the GM Team?s heads are just a little sore. Well in fact that is not exactly accurate, in a move that was every bit as surprising as Todd Hamilton?s victory in 2004, Clive ?Silky? Agran turned down the offer of an all-expense paid trip to the local boozer last night. Those of you who have been reading his blog (he has a huge following in Korea) will probably have gathered that this is not normal? we are still wondering quite what happened and have only surmised that he must have had a secret date with Sue Barker ? his ultimate pin-up girl.

Anyway an intrepid trio headed down to the glorious Ship Inn, located on the edge of the estuary in Broughty Ferry. It was all going nicely until we did a Van de Velde and were hit by a moment of Barry Burn madness as a hefty slug of local Whiskey was added to our extensive rounds. It all gets a bit blurry after that but I do know the conversation got spicy and we all got to know each other a lot better. I would love to fill you in with all the gory details but unfortunately I can?t remember any of them? damn it.

I?m not exactly sure what Sergio Garcia is doing at the moment but I sincerely hope that he?s not in sight of one of the many big screens currently broadcasting the same repeats around the course. The events of eight years ago will live with this golf course like a wonderfully unique blemish on the landscape forever. With all the physical challenges of the final hole comes a significant mental hurdle as today?s would-be Champion stands on the final tee, he?ll need a strong mind not to think of the Frenchman?s disaster.

Day three is rapidly coming to a close and Sergio is on a mission. It was about six weeks ago now since I interviewed the Spaniard at his parent?s home in Castellon in which he talked about how much he?d love to win The Open. As we got onto the subject, his eyes lit up. Now, having followed him for a few holes today I can see why. The crowds here love Sergio ? screaming his name they?ll try their hardest to will him to victory. The atmosphere surrounding him is less Open and more Ryder Cup ? perhaps that will spur him on. I hope it does.

On a different matter, there are some real perks to working at Golf Monthly (hopefully, Mike is still sleeping off the week?s excesses and isn?t reading this or the pay rise I?m expecting might not materialise). One of the best perks is the ?Inside the Ropes? access. Earlier this afternoon I followed Ernie Els and my mate Paul Broadhurst (I?ve only met him twice but he?s been charming on both occasions) as they played the last three holes. I matched them stride for stride down the 18th into the grandstand arena and I felt a serious shiver run down my spine.

This morning I took the opportunity to watch Tiger preparing for his round on the range. Having managed to get myself a pass earlier in the week courtesy of a friend who works for Hippo, I was able to stand on the range, directly behind the world number one. As he worked through his bag from wedges to woods, I was captivated by the quality of his ball striking. It sounds obvious I know but his golf was nothing short of perfect - every shot flew with the same trajectory, with identical shape. For half an hour I watched Tiger at close quarters moving with grace and power. No other player bashing balls came close to matching his crispness of strike or faultless flight.

I plonked myself down in front of the big screen on a white plastic seat and soaked up the atmosphere, scoffing the noodles. The support for Sergio Garcia in the tented village is immense. Every time his massive tango-clad figure popped up on the big screen the group of Welsh lads behind me would shout ?go on my son?. Could this be the European breakthrough we?ve been waiting for? Then KJ Choi came on and everyone sipped their drinks quietly. There was a soft sigh as he missed a putt then Harrington appeared and the rallying began again, though at the moment Garcia is everyone's favourite.

The drizzle turned into rain and the crowds started to pour off the course and flooded the tented village. It's no warmer in the draughty media centre. I might have to resort to wearing the winter mitts that Paul McGinley's got on?.

A huge event like the Open always brings its share of corporate hospitality clients who dress like they are enjoying a day at the races. Scoffing a bacon bap on the way back from a bit of retail therapy in the merchadising tent I past a lady in a hot pink suit and matching stilletto heels teetering across the mush of the tented village along with a man in a straw coloured linen suit. They looked freezing and in dire need of a pair of Galvin Green waterproofs. No doubt another case of silly dress codes on their invitation.

With the lunch rush in full swing the beer tent is getting lively with golf fans from all round the world swopping betting tips and making new friends. It's a brilliant way to obtain invitations to play new courses. I've been invited up to play in a ladies tournament in Hoylake.. now where did I put her number?? Oh dear I'll have to go back to the Bollinger tent to find her again.

As the final member of the Golf Monthly team to arrive at the Open I was anxious to get out on the course and experience the Open buzz. I fear that the atrocious weather from the south may have followed me up here and forecasts this afternoon do not look good. However for the time being the weather is fine and if the early starters can post a good score they may see their name fly up the leaderboard this afternoon.

Wow, the change in atmosphere here in the media centre is pretty extreme, as we walked in this morning (fresh from a good night's sleep) you could really tell that we have hit the weekend of a Major Championship.

The first thing that filled me with joy, apart from the Hog Roast aroma, was the sight of my main man Hunter Mahan putting in a charge that Ghengis Khan would have been proud of. Hunts (as he asks me to call him) had four birdies in six holes to put him on the leaderboard... yes! At 175/1 and with £10 of my English money on him I whorship his blonde locks and wish him all the luck in the world!

Neil "Honest" Tappin sitting next to me put a late night punt on KJ Choi (not quite as prophetic as my effort but nevermind), while Paul O'Hagan is getting very excited with Markus Brier on his books. Alicia Harney, being a bit of a dark horse, has just announced that she had a sneaky quid or two on Harrington... Golf Monthly could be vying with Greg Norman for private jet parking space next year if all these beauties come in...

Clive "Silky" Agran will not however be getting a new Fiat Punto - a dream about Tony Jacklin turning back the years at 3,000/1 proved to be more of a nightmare.

As I write this, day two is coming to an end and the leaderboard is taking shape. A well known and respected journalist who shall remain nameless said to me with absolute conviction that Sergio wouldn?t win. ?He has the worst last round record of any world class player,? he said. That he?s using a belly putter at 26 is also a concern that most in the media centre are struggling to see past. I, on the other hand, having been a long putter user myself in bygone days have cut a solitary figure telling anyone who will listen that if it makes him feel confident on the greens, then he?ll win. Nobody seems to care what I think.

By the time I joined him halfway down the 11th his game was beginning to spiral into dispair. Lumbering up the fairway like a bear with toothache his shoulders were hunched, his big blue eyes staring at the ground. Daily took an iron, the ball hit the edge of the green then rolled into the bunker. It was going to be one of those days. Again. Would I even catch a glimpse of one of his monster drives?

The Bunker Raker commentated that he?d been in more bunkers today than Churchill. The lady scorer looked bored. ?It?s like watching amateur golf,? she said, shaking her head. Moving onto the 12th Daly outdrove his opponents without plunging into the wispy rough or a sandtrap. On the 13th it was a case of another hole another bunker. Without a second thought he dived in and recovered to within 10 feet of the green.

Finally a glimpse of the Daly inspiration was beginning to shine through like the sun above. Using his driver he wacked the ball to an incredulous 60 feet short of the green. That?s almost 400 yards and 150 yards ahead of Allenby and Dredge who had played it safe with an iron. The crowds were jumping up and down and I started coming out of the boredom induced coma that had affected me for the past few holes. Daly's game was starting to come together but it?s too little too late. After a celebratory cigarette the last is finally over and he slopes off looking somewhat relieved that he?s off home.

- Yesterday was clearly the Gary Player tribute day with an inordinate number of players dressed in black from head to toe. Nothing wrong with that I guess (as I sit here myself clad in black from top to tail), but perhaps slightly worrying for the retailers in the merchandise area where vibrant colour is very much the order of the day. Is golf attire about to enter a more sombre era after a period of ?anything goes? and ?the brighter the better??

- How refreshing it is to see players having to hit very long clubs into greens and off the tee in the case of the par-3 16th. I stood at the 16th for a while yesterday and saw only about two out of 15 people reaching for an iron, while if the wind really blows many players could be facing a serious decision about going for it or laying up short of the Burn on the 18th. This Championship is most definitely not a driver/wedge contest.

- This year I will be missing the cut in reporting terms and flying home Friday evening. Typically, as I prepare to leave for the Forth Bridge and Edinburgh airport the sun is poking its head out for pretty much the first time on one of the Championship days. Never mind, of more concern is news from my wife that Friday morning?s deluge back in the south-east has brought my home perilously close to flooding.

This morning, Fergus, Luke and myself decided to catch up with the 1969 Open Champion Tony Jacklin. We were keen see the former great in the flesh to see if he could still cut the mustard. The answer, unfortunately was a resounding no. As we watched him make six up the par-5 6th it was clear that he is playing a totally different game from the other members of the field. Hacking it from deep rough to fairway and then into a greenside bunker his brand of golf was more akin to that seen at Panmure on Tuesday in the Golf Monthly chop-athon.

At least Tony was out there doing his bit for his sponsors by showcasing Slazenger?s K1 Speed driver. The Englishman represents the brand and helps Slazenger drive sales by telling us endlessly about the benefits of this great club (you must have seen the advert ? it?s the one where Jacklin and Torrance discuss how unbelievably well the club performs both in terms of accuracy and distance while sitting on wicker chairs on the edge of some sun-drenched course). You can imagine my surprise therefore when I spotted that Tony wasn?t relying on the K1 Speed but had chosen instead to play a TaylorMade Super Quad. He hadn?t even donned a Slazenger headcover ? it was as if he was admitting that the clubs he was promoting were in fact, not terribly good. Unfortunately, I was unable to get close enough to see if he was using Slazenger?s Bald Eagle ball and Big Easy irons?

This is a very brief blog entry to pay homage to the bacon baguettes available for sale at the Hog Roast just beside the merchandising tent. I?ve eaten a considerable number of bacon sandwiches in my time but this offering ranks right up there with some of the best I've consumed. Not just because of the quality of bacon and bread used but also because of the sheer size of it. It?s obliterated my hangover today and it did the same yesterday.

I have just arrived fresh from GM Towers after a week spent longingly reading these blogs, desperately waiting for Thursday to finally come round (think five-year-old and Christmas). So, having successfully avoided having my bag stolen by a collection of Tennent's-drinkers while waiting for my Carnoustie-bound train at Edinburgh railway station, I was extremely keen to get out and sample some action.

Even better was that I fell in with Andrew Coltart who was working for BBC Radio Five Live. He had rather a pained expression as he watched brother-in-law Lee drive at the 6th. This was not actually because he has been forced to cede his double-bed to Bernhard Gallagher and sleep in a single, very pink bed in his rented accommodation but was in fact down to the news that Westwood is carrying a knee injury. Coltart explained that it shouldn?t cause major problems but it is stopping him putting his full weight on his left leg.

This gave me a good way in with Tony Adamson and Karen Stupples, the BBC Radio team as we followed Luke for the next five holes or so. Last British Major winner, Stuples was an excellent companion although I was a bit thrown when her first question was ?How is John Thynne?s (assistant editor) swing?? ? turns out that I am not the only friend of the stars atGM and John had been getting personal lessons at a media day at Royal Cinque Ports. For the record he is past helping.

However when I did finally arrive I was pleasantly surprised to find my selections in ?Honest Neil Tappin?s Open Sweepy? doing quite well. Not only that but it was great to see David Howell hoping on board the birdie train to bounce back from a hideous bogey, bogey double bogey start. The fact Howler is playing at all was a bit of a surprise as we had seen him walk off the course holding his back after just four holes of his practice round yesterday. Rumours were spreading around last night that he?d have to withdraw and the boys from Cleveland (David?s equipment company) were pretty downbeat when I saw them last night at the GM party. Fingers crossed his great comeback this morning will continue.

Having been here since Monday morning I?m beginning to get rather possessive over this Open. I?ve just ventured out onto the course and was disgusted to find the fairways lined with people. On the practice days I had the run of the place. There were no queues at the Hog Roast, marshals were still in a good mood and you could actually watch the players hitting shots. Unfortunately golf is just too popular in Scotland and the crowds have arrived despite the damp conditions. I couldn?t get within 300 yards of Monty and I didn?t even bother attempting to catch up with Tiger Woods.

Last night at approximately 2.00am, following a very successful Golf Monthly party held at the Discovery Point in Dundee, we made our way back to the GM house. We really should have gone to bed at that stage but instead decided to organise a sweeper on the outcome of this week (the golf, not whether Clive?s back will hold out sleeping on the sofa.) We were each allowed three picks: one top player, one middle of the roader and one outsider. I?ve gone for Els, Monty and Graeme Storm. When I saw the selections scrawled on the back of an envelope this morning I was relatively happy with the first two, but Graeme Storm? Where did I pluck that one from? Looking up at the large scoreboard in the Media Centre I can see I was right to be concerned. He?s seven over par.

As I flashed my armband at the official I did it with the air of somebody who belongs inside the ropes. I acted as if it was my god given right. But actually, my heart was pounding and the adrenaline flowing. ?Am I really allowed to do this?? I thought. ?Where do I stand?? ?Must I maintain absolute silence at all times?? I was sure I?d make some sort of embarrassing blunder and be asked to leave the course at any moment. These initial pangs of anxiety soon passed, however, and I became quite comfortable strolling along behind Benn and his playing partner Llewellyn Matthews (an amateur who got in through local final qualifying at Monifieth).

The first thing I noticed was the quality of the player?s ball striking: it?s considerably better than mine. Barham and Matthews may not be household names but they?re able to manipulate the golf ball as if they?re directing it by remote control. You can see the pros pounding balls on the range but it?s not until you see them on course you realise just how deliberate each shot is. They decide how they?re going to flight and shape it, then they execute with near perfection almost every time.

Something else you get more of a feel for inside the ropes is the course. You can really see how the fairways are shaped and where the best landing areas are. You can examine the thickness of the rough just off the mown surfaces (not too bad by the way) and you can see the best side to miss the greens. Primarily I noted how tough Carnoustie will play this week despite the less punishing rough and receptive greens. The reason for the difficulty is the course?s length, exaggerated by the fact there's basically no run. As an example: The par four second was a driver followed by a good three wood for both Barham and Matthews.

So we walked with two Major champions for the last four holes. I?ve watched these guys on TV since I was a teenager so it was exhilarating to see them playing up close. Davis strikes the ball immaculately and uses a beautiful set of shiny Titleist blades. Neil has his money on Leonard and it looks like a reasonable bet, although he did have to use his driving iron three times in the last three holes and he hit a three wood approach to the 18th out of bounds.

Returning to Carnoustie around 4.00 I had some time to get out onto the course and bask in the early evening sunshine. Between 5 and 7pm on a practice day is one of the most pleasant times to walk an Open course. There are just a few avid spectators left and there?s a sort of ?last men standing? camaraderie between them. The marshals are less stressed as they anticipate the end of the day and they chat and joke with the dispersing crowds. Even the players seem more relaxed as they enjoy the peace and quiet of the approaching dusk. I spotted a group at a picnic table having a beer in the sun outside one of the most remote ?Open Arms.? They were discussing the day and the impending tournament. Could there be any better place in the world?

Jezz and I had a rough time on our return to the GM house last night as we couldn?t find a single rom-com on TV. We resorted to some hardcore channel surfing and snippets of The Shining?. Not quite such a feel good flick as the schmaltzy Wimbledon we watched last night. Apparently Neil had a horrible nightmare about Darren Clarke bursting through his bedroom door wielding an axe shouting, ?Here?s Clarkey!?

The GM house is turning a bit like the Big Brother house at the moment in the fight for beds. I?m resisting eviction from my sofa bed as hard as possible but it looks like a case of first in first out for our roving blogger Clive Agran. Last night he took up residence in the Pirates of the Caribbean suite and was hoping to be relegated just one level to share the basement dungeon with Jezz. It looks, however, like he might be facing a night on the sofa.

If you?re an avid follower of this highly interesting, informative and ? dare I say it ? amusing piece of award winning (coming soon I?m sure) writing, then you will have been disappointed by the lack of activity. But for myself, Jezz, Fergus and Mike there were far more important matters at hand. At 11 am we teed off at Panmure ? a fantastic links that hosted LFQ. It was to become the scene of an epic battle of attrition as Jezz and myself took on Mike and Fergus in a big money match. (We agreed that it was best to split up the rather worrying, blossoming Bisset/Ellwood relationship ? see blog below).

It would be fair to say that right from the off the quality of the golf was poor. Indeed, we embarked on a top-a-thon down the second that finally ended about an hour after it started. As the match progressed myself and Jezz improved as Mike and Fergus plumbed to the darkest depths of golfing depression. This of course was highly amusing. By the 13th the match was over and I was considering buying my own golf course with the proceeds of our mounting bit count.

Then on the 16th Fergus finally broke his stony silence (he hadn?t spoken since snap hooking his drive off the 6th tee) saying, ?Right. Double or quits down the last three.? This was exceedingly punchy considering that Fergus hadn?t actually completed a hole on the back nine. Jezz and I thought it was Christmas. However, displaying levels of grit last seen at the Battle of Bannockburn, Fergus finished with two pars and a birdie to redeem the deficit. Mike was the unwitting beneficiary of Fergus?a determined fightback.

There?ll be a few fuzzy heads in the media centre this morning as last night was party time. Both Callaway and Taylor Made threw bashes at venues around Dundee, inviting some of the world?s best players to attend. While Jezz and Fergus took Callaway, Mike and I ventured to Taylor Made?s Burner party ? hosted by Vernon Kay and infiltrated by hired totty. Also on the menu were the TaylorMade staff professionals. Rarely seen not sporting baseball caps and logoed t-shirts, I?ll take this opportunity to tell you what they looked like, dressed as they were in smart casual.

Last night Jeremy and I attended the Callaway party at Forbes of Kingennie just inland from Monifieth. We were treated to a trick shot extravaganza by staff players, Michael Campbell, Nick Dougherty, Oliver Wilson, Niclas Fasth, Alastair Forsyth, Thomas Bjorn and Charl Schwartzel. Very entertaining, I just hope none of them feel it necessary to attempt those thins, hooks and slices when the competition starts in earnest on Thursday.

The vanguard of Golf Monthly?s Open forces has arrived in what can only be described as horrific conditions in Carnoustie. Monsoon style rain and a hefty breeze is the current outlook. It was with some reluctance that Neil and I left the car to make the short walk from Car Park D to the Media Centre. By the time we made it to our desk (just beside the guys from the sentimentally named ?Golfers Companion?) we were absolutely soaked through.

A rumour has been circulating that Nick Dougherty and Justin Rose are hard at work on the practice ground. From this we can surmise one of two things. Either they?re seriously up for it this week and each is determined to become the first British Open winner since Paul Lawrie, or, there?s something desperately wrong with their swings and on no account should we place any bets on them. If Neil or I can summon the courage to brave the elements and go to watch them we?ll let you know which it is.

It's so close that our esteemed editor, Michael Harris, has already touched down in Scotland. However, before the first ball is struck in anger there is some Transatlantic action to be taken care of. To get involved click here.

Everyone, even GM?s most senior readers, will remember being at school. Think back in particular to the feeling you used to get when the summer holidays were just a few days away. Time passed agonisingly slowly as the state of frenzied excitement rose to critical levels. It was almost impossible to do any work. You convinced yourself there was no point as in just a few days you?d be playing football in the park, riding bikes and shooting catapults. You?d be free and schoolwork would be a million miles away.

Every year as the Open draws nearer I experience these sensations again. As a grown-up (in the loosest sense) I should be above childish anticipation and able to stay in the present rather than wishing the days away. But I just can?t concentrate on other things. I can?t wait until next week. Today, instead of doing anything useful, I?ll spend my time, checking the betting, looking at weather forecasts for next week, chipping on the carpet and watching Monty?s progress in the Scottish Open.

Let me explain, assistant editor John Thynne is a friendly, albeit folically ?challenged, beast, one of those characters that you would be very happy to take home to your mother and father, if of course you happened to be a nice young lady (no Pamela Anderson types need apply thank you). Anyway back to business, Johnny Johnson (as we like to call him) is a very dutiful husband, Dad and brilliant second in command here, however, on the (very) rare occasions the GM team leave the office and head to the nearest watering hole, Johnson gives just the slightest of indications that a murkier beast lurks somewhere deep inside as he consumes his Guinness with true vigour and jealously eyes the flashing fruit machines, before of course, being reined in by his strong homing instincts. Not a trait shared by the general majority, I?m afraid.

The plan so far is to leave Carnoustie at around 8.00pm (after a day spent providing you with the best coverage out there), take in a couple of swift ones (for John at least) at the Open Arms before heading for a curry. After this the real fun begins as we plan to don shell suits and hit Dundee. Apologies if you hail from this neck of the woods but we have been reliably informed it is the perfect place for Thynne Friday. Various establishments have been suggested and more are readily welcome ? please got to the forum ? but as long as the words ?dentist chair, funnel and double tequila slammers? don?t seem unnatural, we will be there.

It?s hard enough to tear one?s mind away from lengthy, highly imaginative day-dreams about being on hand to witness the greatest of all golfing odysseys being fittingly won by a Brit on a strip of land that defines the very term links golf, without a flipping clock chronicling exactly how many seconds there are left until take-off. And all this is before the Open Arms (the R&A?s moveable, annual and very amenable public house) flits into the mind?s eye.

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