Updates from the course ahead of Open Championship at Royal St George's

Buddha bowl

Remarkable scenes early on Wednesday at the fourth tee. I’d wandered out for another look at the front nine and found Lee Westwood and Danny Willett ready to hit driver on what is acknowledged as one of the toughest holes on the course, needing a fearless crack over the bunker named ‘The Himalayas’.

However, it wasn’t the English golfers who caught my eye, but Willett’s coach Sean Foley, who was sat at knee height on a shooting stick, level with the markers, head dipped forward, his gaze directed intently at the ball. He’d just taken an enormous bite of his lunch and was yet to chew so his cheeks were bulging enormously. With the merest shadow of an enigmatic smile on his lips he had the posture, appearance and Zen-like concentration of a golfing, sandwich-munching Buddha.

It wasn’t this peculiar business that baffled his charge, though, but instead the bounce of his ball, which he thought might be right-to-left, but could have been left-to-right. In the end he concluded of the drive: "Visually, this one is weird."

Unexpected insight

Up by the green I got chatting with Zane Scotland, working with BBC Radio this week, and we reminisced about the 2010 championship at St Andrews. He made the cut that year and I remember meeting with his family and friends. "I can’t quite remember – did they make a flag with your name on?" I asked. "They were wearing shirts," he corrected with a laugh. "It was great, but I was stood on the first tee, thinking ‘this is the widest hole in golf’, and all I could think was: ‘Don’t shank it into your mates.’"

Nearing the fifth green, the caddie of the third golfer in the group, Ricardo Celia, was looking for his ball and I spied it near my feet. I pointed it out, but he called for me to lob it over to him.

What followed took less than two seconds and yet my mind was an absolute frenzy. I was suddenly aware that I was inside the ropes at an Open, that there were a lot of people following the group, that most of them were looking in my direction, one of them might be a Masters champion, another might be a former world number one, and that in countless games of village cricket I had repeatedly proved myself incapable of executing a simple lob to the bowler from mid on or mid off. As I thought all of this the caddie waved and then repeated his instruction to me, thus attracting more attention.

I got away with it. It was more or less straight, and I avoided a humbling hook into the gallery, but I turned to Zane and admitted the entire inner crisis. "I think I just got an insight into the business of performing under pressure," I sighed. "And I think I bottled it." Absurd.

Fairways and rough

We’ve spent this week discussing the state of the fairways and the rough, and on Wednesday morning Lee Westwood made what I can’t help thinking is a rather crucial revelation.

We’re well aware that the long-term wet conditions, plus the heavy rain on Monday and Tuesday, have made the rough lush and thick, and also softened the fairways. The assumption, however, was that the fairways would become more fiery as the forecast sun dried them out.

Westwood, however, said: "I spoke to Martin Slumbers on Monday evening, and he said they're probably going to water some of the fairways." My ears pricked and I asked for confirmation that his understanding was that this would be done later in the week to maintain the current situation. "I think that’s probably what he meant," Westwood said. "They may need to keep them softer as the week goes on."

This act has two purposes. One, it somewhat mitigates against the somewhat random bounces the undulating fairways here are famous for. And two it gives those players hitting (or even taking aim at) the fairways an advantage over those rash or wild enough to take on the thick rough.

Standing beside the 17th fairway this afternoon, one of the fairways known for resembling a mogul run, the consequences were quite clear. A Garrick Higgo drive landed plum on one of those severe humps yet did so softly and found the semi-rough. Chatting to a marshal there this was typical of what has been happening all week. Some balls have found trouble, but by being hit there, not via ricochets from the cut grass.

Conner Wordsall, the 23-year-old qualifier, played the final two holes of his practice round with Dustin Johnson and Bryson DeChambeau (a thrilling surprise – leaving him on 18 they told him to treat tomorrow as 'any other round of golf'). He agreed that the course is playing soft and that a little more pace in the ground would make it truer links test.

Bluffer

I learned a fantastic tale last night. In the 1985 Open at Royal St George’s Sandy Lyle spent the entire final round aware of a man standing close behind him on every shot. He was not a completely random presence – he was carrying a boom which he held in position to collect the swish and click as the Scot completed his victory lap in 70 blows and claimed a first British success in the Open for 16 years.

At the end of the round he did the usual round of thanking scorers, scoreboard carriers and also the boom operator. "Who were you working for?" he asked him. "Oh, no-one," he answered.

Turns out he’d shown up with the gear and blagged his way into the best seat in the house. An outrageously brilliant stunt, but unlikely to work these days so please don’t try.

Pints and players

One of the great Open traditions is a non-starter this week: bumping into golfers out and about in the towns and villages around the venue. Back in 2011 there were plenty of tales of players not just drinking pints in the pubs of Sandwich, but actually getting behind the bar and pouring them. None of that is happening this week, of course, which is a pity. Not least because a fond memory of that week is asking Mark Calcavecchia for his thoughts on the local beer. "I wasn't fond of that John Smith's," he said. "That was pretty gross."

The great Open vantage points

If you’re heading to the course this week make sure to spend some time ascending the huge dune behind the sixth green. It not only provides a fantastic view of that hole, but also the course and Sandwich Bay.

One of the great glories of the Open are these high points. This one probably sits alongside the dune behind the 10th at Royal Birkdale as my favourite, one which not only provides a view of the par-four, but also the eighth and 11th, with the seventh and ninth viewable through binoculars.

Nor is it just the golf that tickles me about these spots. I quite like the way Open punters line up to climb, and then cling, to them. Hundreds and thousands of us packed on the slopes, relying on trainer treads or golf spikes to provide the necessary traction to avoid slipping down. We start to resemble the survivors of some natural disaster, seeking high ground to avoid the expected floods.

Last minute on the range

An old Sporting Life colleague, Harry the Hat, liked visiting the range as the final practice day drew to a close. ‘Who was still there, grinding away?’ he wondered. I’m not as shrewd as Harry, who could sift the range wheat from the chaff with an unerring eye. I’m always over-thinking it, wondering if the player is working on something I’m unaware of and therefore I’m playing guessing games with the wrong info.

But for what it’s worth, this missive comes from 5pm on the range: Phil Mickelson is knocking low balls, Viktor Hovland looks happy enough with his game, and my guess would be that Benjamin Hebert is fighting his swing a little.

More Open content

• Royal St George's course guide
• Player-by-player guide to the Open field

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