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Stealing my glory

Bloody Zane Scotland. Today could have been my biggest thrill in golf. The 17th hole on the Old Course at St Andrews is better known as the Road Hole. Opens have been won and lost here and it is meant to be the hardest par four anywhere in the world. After two shots I was 15 feet from the flag and feeling as smug as anyone could, leaning on my putter in the sun with the admiring gaze of a decent gallery washing over me. I was thinking about how to react after sinking my birdie putt - perhaps a discrete wave to the crowd would be in order?

Then bloody, bloody Zane Scotland decides he has seen enough and rolls in this ludicrous 60 foot putt right into the sodding hole for a birdie himself. The gallery went nuts and I missed. Typical.

Still, Zane made the cut right on the button at five under par and I could not have been happier for him. He was a gent throughout and he deserves all the success that is surely coming his way. As a team we missed out but I have had a truly brilliant experience. The monthly medal will never seem the same again.

Determination

In just under three hours time we tee off on the Old Course - we are starting at the 10th tee so we won't get the thrill of starting and finishing in front of the R and A clubhouse but that is only a minor disappointment. Club golfers everywhere would love to be in my shoes today and I am determined I am going to enjoy every last second of it. Hopefully Zane will go on a birdie-blitz, he is certainly capable of it and if the wind isn't blowing then Old Course can give up low scores. Also in our group is Rafael Echenique, a wildly talented Argentinian who lies 10-under par at the moment and has a serious chance of winning this whole tournament. Watching him and Zane attack this course today is something I am seriously looking forward to.

A Bridge too far

The 18th green at Carnoustie is where most of the sparse crowd congregate. So if you want to embarrass yourself, this is the place to do it. So I did. I hit a nice drive and then smashed my next shot (a wild, pushed, five wood) off a bridge that crosses the burn where Jean van de Velde made a prat out of himself in 1999. The ball jumped miles in the air, bounced back towards me over the water, plopped gently onto the bank and rolled ever so slowly back into the drink. Luckily most of the crowd couldn't believe anyone could hit the ball in that direction and probably didn't see it.

Today was not a good day. I was nervous (again, a familiar story), there were a few people watching which made me more nervous and I couldn't string two decent shots together. There is something about being inside the ropes alongside very, very good golfers that turns me into a bit of a wreck over the golf ball. I am going to have to get that sorted out before tomorrow's round at St Andrews.

Zane did not have the greatest day either. He shot a level par 72, which was a real achievement because he was not swinging well during the middle part of the round. We are three-under for the team competition and have no chance of making the cut.

Tomorrow, in the inspiring surroundings of the Old Course, I am going to try and beat those nerves once and for all.

Zen Scotland

I am writing this an hour or so after Zane Scotland and I finished our first round at Kingsbarns. After 10 holes, Zane was on top of the leaderboard at five under par. As a team we were six under par (meaning on one hole I had actually scored better than him), the sun was out, we were chatting about football - he's a Manchester United fan - and the world was a happy place. No one actually mentioned the fact that he, and I, were leading but everyone knew. Especially when a TV crew turned up, which was frankly unnerving.

Then I hit my tee shot into the water on the 12th where I get one of my three shots for the round. Zane hit his second shot into the water. And the wheels came flying off. Zane  is an unbelievably nice guy and somehow kept his temper, remained good natured and kept a Zen-like calm as he dropped a succession of shots to finish level par. As a team we ended up two under. I was constantly afflicted by nerves, my hands turned to jelly at the top of my backswing, my driving was scruffy and my iron shots were scuffly. When Zane was dropping shots I should have been getting pars to keep the team score going, I couldn't manage it.

A low point came when I bashed my ball into the rough by the 16th green right on front of a giant scoreboard. A lady working very gently lent over the railings and said to me: "We had your name up here ... an hour ago." "Thanks" I said and smiled. I think she thought she was being kind.

To make the cut of the top 20 teams we need to be on around 16 under par by the end of the third round and that is going to be some task.

Massage parlour

Not quite as racy as it sounds but when your livelihood depends on your body working properly a golf professional needs to look after himself. The Red Bull fitness trailer is here parked at St Andrews just by the driving range but I also noticed a massage table ready for use in the male locker room in the St Andrews Links clubhouse (which is the clubhouse everyone uses for this championship). From what I could see it got a bit of use yesterday afternoon as well. And before you ask, it was a guy doing the massaging!

Monty on the range

Have just spent a couple of hours on the range at St Andrews and Colin Montgomerie was practising close by. He was about as far removed from his dour image as you could imagine and seemed in great form. Top coach Pete Cowan gave him a lesson and Monty appeared to be striking the ball very nicely indeed. I, on the hand, tried about 73 different swing thoughts, none of which worked.

Top draw

Last night was the draw party in a big marquee next to the 17th green. Dunhill hosted a lavish affair and the likes of Hugh Grant, Ruud Gullit, Dennis Hopper, Jp McManus and Ian Poulter all enjoyed the free booze and food before discovering the draw for the competition.

There are two sides to the draw. The first problem to sort it out is which amateurs play with which professionals. Some of this is clearly sorted out well in advance, Ernie Els is playing with his father Neels, Lee Westwood with his agent Chubby Chandler and Ian Poulter with Dennis Hopper. Huey Lewis by the way, is out with Nick Faldo. The rest of us who are not big stars are then placed with the rest of the professionals in what looks like a fairly random process.

The second part of the draw decides which groups are playing where and at what times. We all play Kingsbarns, Carnoustie and St Andrews once each with the top 60-odd professionals and top 20 teams making the cut and playing St Andrews again on Sunday. I start at 9am at Kingsbarns tomorrow, Carnoustie on Friday and then St Andrews on Saturday.

Well I have struck lucky. Unbelievably lucky. My professional partner for the week is Zane Scotland, who finished fourth in the British Masters a couple of weeks ago. He also has top 12 finishes in the French Open and the Players Championship of Europe and this has been a breakthrough season for him. He started the year on the Challenge Tour but that French Open performance effectively bumped him onto the main tour and in just seven events he has earned nearly 250k Euros. The boy is in form.

Zane, now 25, was the youngest Englishman to come through qualifying for the Open when he made it into the main draw at Carnoustie in 1999 before his seventeenth birthday. A bad car crash hampered his career up to the start of this season (two vertebrae were knocked out of place) but he is now pain free and can practice as much as he wants. Hope my swing doesn't put him off ...

The Power of Love

The power of love is a curious thing, make one man weep, make another man sing ...

A bit like my golf swing really. Except most people who see it weep - or laugh, not many sing. I arrived in St Andrews today fit and ready for my second appearance in the Dunhill Links. Fit and ready after virtually no practice, an eight-hour drive and a lower back that decided it would be fun to pick this week to start stabbing me.

I trotted down to Kingsbarns this afternoon for some last minute panicking on the range and bumped in to Huey Lewis (The News were nowhere to be seen). Actually I bumped into Huey's bag - he was nowhere to be seen either. It's bad enough hitting balls on the range next to the pros who leave you feeling totally inadequate, without ageing rock Gods damaging your self-esteem as well. Hopefully you can make out the bag tag on this picture.

Download hueys_bag.jpg

It appears that Huey is a member of Colonial Country Club in Texas, Ben Hogan's home club and one of the best in the United States. It boasts three restaurants, a ballroom and a replica of Hogan's business office. My house could probably fit snugly into the ballroom.

The range at Kingsbarns wasn't bad either. Shiny new golf balls to hit (or slice and hook), no sign of the yellow rubber "balls" and ripped up mats that most normal golfers are used to, and the chance to watch top quality professionals swing like I never will. There were big bins full of cans of Red Bull all over the place and if you ran out of Titleists then someone turned up with a new basket for you. And the sun was out. If Carlsberg made driving ranges they would be like this.

Tonight I find out which unfortunate tour pro has me as a partner. Tomorrow I am going to go over to the Old Course in St Andrews and see if some of the magic of the place rubs off on my game.

You dont need money, dont take fame, dont need no credit card to ride this train ...

Can't get that bloody song out of my head now.

On the 1st tee from Milton Keynes ... it's Craig Tregurtha

Last year Craig Tregurtha, assistant sports editor of The Times, football editor, editor of TheGame and five-handicap golfer was invited to take part in the Dunhill Links for the first time. He came away with his pride intact but no prizes. This year he returns to Scotland to test his game against the world's best a little wiser, a little more experienced and with his swing a little more grooved (OK, we made that last bit up). He would tell you the safest place for the spectators to stand when he tees off is in the middle of the fairway - but isn't that what all bandits would say? Stay with him every step of the way as he lives every club golfer's dream. Over to you Craig and good luck...