Dredge's decision to opt out of qualifier is Open to question

Caddie's Role:With about 45 events to choose from as a professional golfer with a European Tour card, sometimes planning your year can be as tough a decision as choosing a six- or seven-iron to a tight pin over water in a 20mph gusting wind.

When you are young, hungry and armed with boundless energy and enthusiasm, you can probably get away with playing as many weeks in a row as is physically possible. When you are a seasoned campaigner, experience tells you how many weeks of competition without a break suits your temperament.

Golfers tend to peak in their late 30s for, among other reasons, they understand their optimum schedule, and if they have been relatively successful they are in a position to pick and choose their tournaments accordingly.

Knowing which courses suit your game is a vital part of this decision-making process.

A flat Wednesday in Wales, with a weather-delayed pro-am, provided the platform on which players' scheduling could be paraded last week at the Celtic Manor golf resort near Newport.

Despite the warm welcome and continuing hospitality, let's face it: it's not the most exotic location in the world when it is bucketing down and you have the prospect of yet another five hours plus of hacking with three "new friends" in the pro-am.

That is unless you are due to play with a super-model and not the usual corporate Joe who plays golf occasionally when there is potentially a big business deal at the end of the round.

We were paired with Jodie Kidd, the retired model. For the first time in 10 years I was hoping the pro-am would not be cancelled. Thankfully the clouds lifted and we got out late afternoon to play 12 holes with Jodie.

While waiting for a decision the media got an unusual supply of talkative golf pros wheeled into the press room in an effort to kill time.

The topic of the slow Wednesday was about players' scheduling and, in particular, their thought process behind qualifying for the two majors that run qualifying events: the US Open and the Open Championship.

Yesterday saw the US Open qualifying event being played at the Walton Heath Golf Club, once host to the Ryder Cup. Some 50-odd pros played a 36-hole event for the chance of one of the nine spots available to European pros to compete in next week's US Open at Oakmont.

There are a number of arguments that ensue when you discuss the merit of getting involved with trying to qualify for these majors. Bluntly, there are two sides; firstly the romantic view it is it is such a prestigious event steeped in the history of the game that any golfer who has a modicum of respect for tradition should seize the opportunity to potentially compete at such a level.

Secondly, there is the body of opinion that suggests that, in an already crammed calendar, why put yourself through the distraction of a one-in-six chance of qualifying and upsetting the carefully planned rhythm of your golfing year in the process?

Judging by the tirade of abuse that local hero Bradley Dredge got in the British press last Thursday for deciding not to try to qualify yesterday, it was fairly clear which side they took on the matter. Open championships should be revered and treated like they were the last tournaments on earth to play in, and anyone who doesn't is wrong.

I believe the romance of golf disappeared with the arrival of the measuring laser, the launch monitor machine and swing-aid computer programmes. The game has been fast-forwarded to systems analysis and, consequently, paralysis by such analysis, it is increasingly run by scientists and less so by artists.

Such is progress.

So golfers and their support teams tend to look closer at their statistics, spot trends and rethink their strategies. Their days of competitive golf are charted, their time spent on the range, in the gym, on the physio bench, wherever they are, it is all tightly controlled in an overall effort to climb further up the rankings at the end of the year.

Naturally this will set the romantic historian back a little when the bigger picture clearly points at the disruption of qualifying for events leading to even more uncertainty in an already unpredictable game rewarded by low scores alone.

There are, of course, some fairy-tale success stories that support the romantics: Michael Campbell from New Zealand qualified in Walton Heath for the US Open at Pinehurst in 2005 and went on to win the event. His face now graces a coin in his native country. Paul Lawrie, from Scotland, qualified for the British Open Championship in 1999 and went on to win in a play-off. Their dreams were realised through the initial step of opting to qualify.

My boss, Retief Goosen, played with Dredge in the final round of the Masters earlier this year when he shot an 84 in the last round. Without stating the obvious, this can leave some deep wounds in a player not familiar with the upper echelons of golf on a weekly basis. Maybe he is not ready to expose himself to possible humiliation so soon after the carnage at Augusta in April.

Dredge has made a decision not to partake in the US Open. There is no right or wrong, he is doing what he feels is right for him. He finished tied second at Celtic Manor.

The chances of playing good competitive golf the next day are pretty slim given the emotional strain of being in contention to win your national title the previous day.

But, on the contrary, given he is playing well maybe his run would continue.

It's good to dream, it's also good to recognise your limitations.

The romantics will continue to dream of a major championship, the realists will operate within a comfort zone that only they can understand.