The guy can do no wrong. On the fifth tee yesterday, Darren Clarke high-fived with anyone within reach and hauled his 16 st frame into the air like a basketball player shooting hoops.

His first tour hole-in-one was celebrated with a series of American-style high-fives with caddie Billy Foster.

But, more pertinently, it was the catalyst for another good day at the sun-kissed office for Clarke, who heads into today's final round with a six-shot cushion over his closest pursuer, Peter O'Malley.

"I just about saw it trickle in," admitted Clarke of his ace, a six-iron of 205 yards, "but, before the ball fell into the hole, the roar of the crowd reached me first."

In nine years as a tour professional, the 30-year-old Ulsterman had never had a hole-in-one. He had four back in his amateur days, but yesterday's feat was yet another indication that Clarke is unfolding something special in this year's Smurfit European Open.

Certainly, the man who built the course would have approved. Mick Holly, a former captain of the club, has a special connection with the K Club in that his machinery carved every nuance into the majestic parkland course. And the Kerryman had the distinction of aceing the fifth hole during the Chris de Burgh Classic in 1995, the first person to accomplish the feat.

Sadly, Holly passed away in January of this year - but it was more than a touch appropriate that Clarke should realise such a personal highlight on that particular short hole during this tournament.

Clarke's hole-in-one was the 23rd on the European PGA Tour this season. And the Irish have a good strike rate: in fact, Clarke was the fourth Irishman to achieve an ace. Paul McGinley set the trend in the South African Open, Des Smyth grabbed one at the Volvo PGA and Jimmy Heggarty recorded his ace during the Murphy's Irish Open.

When Clarke trooped off the 18th green there was a bottle of the finest champagne awaiting him in the recorder's room.

That wasn't the only thing that awaited him around that time. A few minutes earlier, as he walked up to the final green, a young marshal discreetly appeared in front of the public grandstand clutching a large terry towel. "What's that for?" one of his colleagues asked. "There is a rumour that a streaker is waiting to run onto the green to Darren - and it is my job to put this around here," he replied.

Obviously, he had volunteered on the basis that someone would have to do it. The streaker never appeared.