Humble Hamilton proves a class act in Hawaii

Caddie's Role: One of the last things British Open champion Todd Hamilton thought he would be doing just hours after he got off an overnight flight from Tokyo was to play a round of golf with Retief Goosen's caddie.

As if the surreal feeling of arriving at your destination in Hawaii before you had left Japan (18-hour time change, eight-hour flight, wasn't enough, surely 18 holes with an inferior golfer would be enough to finish off the very humble Hamilton.

Bambi, Todd's bagman, had boarded the same plane as I had at Honolulu, and said he was going to tee it up with his man later in the afternoon, and that I was welcome to join them.

Well aware of the strain that pro-ams can put on pros, I was reluctant to release my amateur ways on Todd unnecessarily. But Bambi reassured me: Todd loves playing, he plays with his mates all the time when he has a week off back home. He lives to play golf. He must do, I thought, given the voyage he has been on recently.

It is the reward of being a major champion that you get to play all the big money events, and more, at the end of the season. From the Tour Championship in Atlanta, Todd went to India for a few days' golf, then on to Japan, then Hawaii. He is in South Africa this week, from where he will return to California immediately for Tiger Woods' Target Challenge.

I know it all sounds exotic, and he is well paid for it, but a certain disorientation comes with it and it can be hard for the body to deal with it.

The consolation is that the last time Todd was in India and Japan he was just part of the regular field; there were no frills attached to those tournaments. If he survived them he was happy enough, never mind collect a cheque to boot.

Todd has signed more than a few autographs in recent months, and I have watched him do so with the care and attention of the novice autographer. This is a man who has learnt the hard way and will never forget his roots. He is the most gracious British Open champion I have had the pleasure of meeting.

It was the two caddies, with Bambi's girlfriend, against the Open champion. We played off the back tees. This is the best way to fully understand the stark difference between a professional and a reasonable amateur. It is about 70 yards of a difference, and it is hard to compete with such a differential.

So that's my excuse. The caddies ended up buying the Mai Tais in the cocktail lounge, with Hamilton and Bambi watching the sun set for the second time that day.

The Grand Slam is an end-of-season party for the PGA of America. It is a way for them to celebrate with those who have helped them throughout the year and the major champions of the year. There is no expense spared, from the best rooms in the resort with sea views to returning to your room each evening where yet another gift awaits, wrapped with Hawaiian daintiness.

When I went to pay my extras bill as I checked out last week, I was told everything had been taken care of.

The PGA didn't have to be quite so hospitable, but they were. We were invited into the champions' dinner, and every other event, including the Thanksgiving dinner at Roger Warren's (the incoming president) suite.

As I left, MG Orender, the president of the PGA, asked my opinion about their selection of Tom Lehman as the next Ryder Cup captain. I know this doesn't seem so strange to you, the liberal reader, but it was not that long ago that we loopers were in the car park under the shade of a tree - if we could find one. This dramatic shift in status has happened quite recently. It's great.

It looked like Retief and I were going to have another victorious week after his first round 65. Then Phil Mickelson's second round 59 put paid to that idea.

Without taking away from the fact that it was a wonderful round of golf, and that Phil did it, which I respect - but Phil hit it all over the island of Kauai. He hit five fairways and missed the other nine wide on the generous resort course. But his recovery shots were unbelievable and the putts he made have killed the myth that the man can't deal with Bermuda greens.

Retief was running a fever, which was exaccerbated by the unusual humidity. He was sweating so profusely he had to change his shirt after nine holes. As usual he didn't complain, but just got on with it in his own quiet way.

Retief made his way quickly back to London and his new daughter. Todd headed to South Africa. Vijay and Phil spent a few more days with their families in the Hyatt, marking the beginning of their holidays before the New Year starts a few islands down the way on Maui in January.