Great White Dinosaur

14 April 2012

There must be a disease which creeps up on ageing sports stars, causing them to view the days of their competitive youth through lurid pink, rather than rose-tinted, glasses. It is the clearest sign of a fading talent - and The Open Championship has more than its fair share of that.

Contrast the attitudes of Nick Faldo and Greg Norman. Faldo, three times an Open winner and far more relaxed and approachable than in his heyday, picked three young English stars with whom to practise. Paul Casey, Justin Rose and Ian Poulter may be confident young men but they are not cocky enough to pretend there is nothing to learn from the old master.

Faldo has joked about the possibility of missing the birth of his imminent baby if he is still in contention on Sunday afternoon. He is laughing, smiling and enjoying his surroundings but there is a twinkle in his eye that betrays the unquenchable desire of a champion. He is no fool and knows that to surround himself with young bravehearts is not just an altruistic investment in the future of British golf - it keeps him on his toes and makes him think.

Meanwhile, the Great White Shark, who won the last Open held at Royal St George's in 1993, has been bemoaning the lack of characters in the game. It was so much better in his day, of course.

Take those glasses off and have a look around, Greg. I cannot remember a more interesting Open in terms of the numbers of players worth watching for both potential and excitement.

It depends how you define character - whether it is someone who dyes their hair pink, who loses their temper on the golf course, spends a fortune on women and fast cars or plays up to the crowd. Or is it someone whose game is exciting, whose style of play is daring and inventive?

There are all sorts in the game of golf and most of them are teeing off at Sandwich today. The young band of Casey, Rose, Poulter, Adam Scott, Luke Donald, the steady, experienced heads of Ernie Els, Bernhard Langer, Darren Clarke, Jim Furyk and the unpredictable nature of Sergio Garcia, Colin Montgomerie, Ian Woosnam and John Daly. All are worth watching and that's without even mentioning Tiger Woods, still utterly brilliant but no longer invincible.

Perhaps Norman did not mean his criticism the way it came out but it was borne of indifference, the words of a man whose interest has waned along with his ability to shoot competitive scores. Having made another fortune as a businessman, he does not need the game and it shows. It was great in his day but it's even better now, as the next four days will prove.

For those seeking a financial interest, I would recommend Clarke at 25-1, Rose at 50-1 and maybe a bit each-way on a former links Open winner, Paul Lawrie at 100-1.

Now, I love golf, but I detest the idea that you have to be white, middle-class and male to be allowed an opinion about it or to be allowed to join the best clubs. The world has moved on since the days of the British Empire but in golfing circles, you wouldn't know it.

It is regarded as a favour to allow women to play at a male club, rather than a rejection of their rights not to allow them to be equal members.

It may be tedious to go over old ground but not as tedious as constantly coming up against brick walls because you happen to have been born female. The Open is the ultimate representation of golf in Britain and if the R&A does not deem it necessary to make that representation all-encompassing, then there is little hope for expanding the game beyond its confined boundaries.

The next captain of the R&A will be HRH Prince Andrew, a man appointed to the post by virtue of his mother's position. By the accident of his birth he is acceptable and yet by the accident of the Queen's birth as a woman, she is not. Nonsensical.

How the hype finally caught up with Cathy

It is hard to separate Cathy Freeman the athlete from Cathy Freeman the icon except that for the last three years the latter has completely overshadowed the former. Australia's collective guilt for its inhumanity towards the Aborigines caused her status to be elevated far beyond her achievements on the track. She was a symbol of unity, a public banner to be waved across the world, a vehicle for advertisers and politicians alike.

Her victory in the 400metres produced the lasting image of the Sydney Olympics: a lost-looking girl sitting in the middle of the track, flashlights popping all around, seemingly unable to comprehend what she had just achieved. Winning the race was a wonderful achievement but you'd have thought she'd invented the wheel, discovered sliced bread and found a cure for AIDS all in one go.

Freeman was arguably the most over-hyped athlete of all time. Admittedly, it was not all of her own doing but she seems to like the limelight and probably enjoyed the trappings of success a little too much to enable her to continue as a serious professional.

Every great champion will tell you that getting to the top is one thing, staying there a whole lot harder.

"It's the little things that have told me, like having mayonnaise on bread," she said earlier this year when lamenting her lack of desire. That says it all. For the really hungry, one gold medal isn't enough but for Freeman, it was too much.

Risk to Tour riders makesme hot under the collar

Given the heavy storms that ravaged France yesterday, it's fortunate that it was a rest day in the Tour de France. Searing heat (temperatures on Tuesday peaked at 104F, 40C) has forced the riders to endure levels of dehydration and exhaustion the like of which they have never encountered before, yet still they ride on.

You have to worry that someone will die on this Tour, such are the testing conditions and the unnatural demands on the body. If it were horses or dogs being asked to compete, there would be uproar but it's only human beings, so I guess that's okay.

Crazy world.

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Colin Montgomerie

Great White Dinosaur

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