They say that a measure of Ben Hogan's greatness was the fact that so many professionals would make a point of watching him practise. When I was hoping to improve my skills, I'd look at Pat Mulcare.

He was unquestionably one of the finest amateur golfers I've been privileged to see. Pat had shots that any pro would have been proud of. That's why I never passed up the opportunity of see- ing him hit balls with that beautiful, rhythmic swing he had.

There were occasions in Lahinch when I'd roll down the window of the car and marvel at the way he'd throw the ball down on the ground and hit driver shots as if it was a five-wood he had in his hand. In terms of raw talent, he was amazing.

I especially remember a match against him in the South of Ireland, about 20 years ago. I always enjoyed his company and on this occasion we were just having a nice, friendly game as he walked down the long 14th, with me two down.

Halfway along the fairway, Pat turned to me and said with that typical grin of his: "You'll be home in plenty of time to milk the cows today." For some reason, that got me bristling.

Anyway, we halved the 15th in pars; I won the 16th with a birdie and I had another birdie at the 17th to square the match. Now we're going up 18th and there's no chat at all. But I have a problem. I can't make the green (par five) in two and I know that Pat can.

My only hope was to chase a driver off the carpet but it still came up 30 yards short of the green. Meanwhile Pat played not a great second and was just short of the greenside bunker on the left- hand side.

By this stage, a big crowd who had been up the 19th with the match ahead of us, were returning down the 18th as I pitched on to 10 feet from the flag. Pat then played a poorish pitch to about 12 feet away and missed.

In front of what had now become a sizeable gallery, I turned to him and said in a loud voice: "If you have any loose-ends of business to tie up in the Co Clare, you'll have all day to do it, in a minute." With that, I knocked the putt into the hole to win the match.

He didn't speak to me for ages after that - and I suppose I couldn't blame him. Which is an- other reason why that match will always stick in my mind.

I know I developed a bit of a reputation for winding up opponents, but I can honestly say that I never set out to make enemies on the golf course. There was great camaraderie between the players and we were all capable of a bit of devilment.

Certainly, there was never a question of trying to talk an opponent out of winning. Well, maybe in a fourball, but certainly not in a serious game of golf. The sort of stuff I got up to was all part of the bloody game at that time.

Though I had a good record against Pat, I remember being at Portmarnock for the Interpros and sitting in the clubhouse wondering how I could beat him. He was a fast player, but then I was no slouch. So I decided I'd walk him off the course.

Our's was the second match off and Arnold O'Connor, who was in front of us, let us through. I remember I was going so hard down the fifth that I shouted back "Come on, Pat. Come on, you're lagging be- hind." And he came running down the hill after me.

To cut a long story short, we walked up the 16th, two hours and 20 minutes after we had started. And when I beat him by 3 and 2, I was six under par for the holes played. Which proves that you don't have to drag your heels to play good golf.

J B (Carr) was unquestionably the best Irish amateur I ever came up against. His great strength was his competitiveness, though he was also close to professional standard in his course management. Not only did he know what he could do; he knew what he couldn't do, which was perhaps more important.

But Mulcare held a special appeal for me. Perhaps it was the fact that he never beat me in the four or five times that we met. I reckon I had the Indian-sign on him. And it's always a bit special to beat a player you know is better than you.