Why we must be kinder to crocodiles

The crowds at The Open have been confirming all aspects of the edge they have over other sporting audiences; the dedication, the discipline, the endurance and the cheerfulness under the most trying conditions. It is a pity they are not better looked after.

All spectators add to events. Fans who pack the stands at the major football and rugby matches contribute much to the proceedings, but these are not of a long duration. Grand prix fans have to put in a longer attendance, especially if they go to Silverstone, and cricket fans even longer. Attending the tennis at Wimbledon might require a hundred or so of the more avid to queue overnight, but there's not much discomfort involved. But golf-watching at The Open can be a day-long physical commitment exposed to all manner of weather.

You have to wear or carry several varieties of clothing, plus food and drink if you cannot afford top prices. Then you have to know enough about the game to appreciate every act in the drama being acted out even though you don't get to see much of it.

The ultimate irony of golf-watching is that the stay-at-homes can see every shot clearly and in comfort and they don't have to pay a penny. Real golf fans have to work hard, or wait long, for the bits of action they see. They would not exchange the pleasure of being there for all the advantages of television, but they deserve greater consideration for their efforts. No major tournament would be the same if they weren't prepared to suffer with such patience.

Ebbs and flows of public acclaim are never better demonstrated than in the big golf tournaments. When it comes to assessing the progress of this or that player there is no more accurate guide than the number and demeanour of those prepared to follow them. Golf fans really do vote with their feet and, if the leaderboard is the strict record of the scores, the galleries are a reliable reflection of the way the competitors are shaping up.

This feeling for an imminent explosion of birdies or an approaching disaster is just one factor that makes those who turn up to watch the big golf events the most admirable of all sporting supporters.

A golf crowd is made up of all ages, sexes and classes, and three days spent in close company with them hasn't diminished my affection or my view that it is wrong to take their devotion for granted. There is no limit on attendances because the R & A want the event to be open to all. It is a laudable aim, as is their policy of giving free admission to youngsters, but we are reaching the stage when some thought ought to be given to imposing a maximum number.

The size of crowd that can be comfortably accommodated will differ from course to course, but I noticed a massive difference between part of the throng on Thursday and Friday.

I joined Tiger Woods' crocodile on the first day and it was very enjoyable, even if Tiger wasn't on form. There were some congestion points but those who kept moving generally saw what they wanted to. The attendance figure on Thursday was 32,000, which was less than I expected with Woods in the field. On Friday that figure jumped to 42,000, and what had been a fairly comfortable experience became decidedly uncomfortable.

It didn't help that Woods and Colin Montgomerie, the two main attractions of the day, went out within three games of each other. The first clash of the crocodiles came at the narrow junction between the second and fourth greens. Montgomerie was on the second as Woods was reaching the fourth. The next clogging came when Montgomerie was on the fourth tee and Woods was marching up the sixth fairway, which is only 20 yards away. The Woods faction were attempting to move in one direction with the Monty followers heading the opposite way. For one period there were about 500 of us locked in a small space and hardly able to see a thing.

We are not talking about rival supporters but two sets of fans who for whatever reason had decided to follow a particular group and found it very difficult, if not impossible. There was no attempt to solve the congestion. There are plenty of marshals on duty but they are concerned with keeping the crowd quiet and motionless at the right time and with controlling the crossing points which are vital to the smooth movement of such a large number of people over what is a very confined area in places.

Press men are not usually aware of such problems because they have armbands that allow them to walk inside the ropes. Until I did this stint as a face in the crowd, I didn't realise that these human traffic jams could get so serious. Had the weather not been dry the grassy hillocks of Royal Lytham would not have borne the passage of such a crush without many losing their footing. The situation could have been made a lot easier if these particular players had been kept further apart in the draw. It doesn't take a massive organisational feat to assess which players are likely to have the biggest galleries.

Better stewarding would also help, but this is not a problem that is easily solved. The Open is one of the world's great events and is a shared experience that people flock to whatever the discomforts. The money they pay, the distances they travel, the inconveniences they suffer and the patience they display deserve considerably more consideration.

The original head case

Occupational hazard for Open watchers is a sharp crack on the skull from a wayward ball, and after the first day the headache count was four. At St Andrews last year not one ball casualty was reported, mainly because the galleries are confined to the edges of the course.

At Lytham, the crowds thread between the holes and are much more in the firing line. Victims receive first aid on the spot if the cycling paramedics are near but, as an insurance requirement, all have to be taken to the medical centre for a check-up.

This year marked what was probably the earliest Open head bump, and it didn't even happen on the course. On the previous Saturday, five days before the tournament began, stands in the exhibition hall were being fitted out with the giant electronic screens on which fairways are projected and club manufacturers invite potential customers to see how far they can hit the ball.

At the Ben Sayers stand one of the staff tried it out before the safety nets had been properly installed and the ball rebounded to hit him on the head. It was more virtual reality than he needed.

By Royal appointment

Northern Ireland have left it late but they have finally caught up with the living legends Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and Gary Player. The holy trio are playing in the Senior British Open at Royal County Down this week, and it will be the first time they've teed off together in a competitive tournament in the province.

Nicklaus has played at County Down before but only in a private game, and a big crowd is expected to watch the three go for their share of the £500,000 prize money. It is also the first time that they have appeared together on the Senior British Tour.

Just peachy

Proceeding in a westerly direction around the Open course on Friday, two police officers saw three oranges, two apples and a strawberry behaving in an erratic manner. They were immediately apprehended and asked to leave the course as they were likely to cause a breach of the peach.

The fruit protested and said that they were students who had been hired to don the costumes as a promotional exercise. The policemen said they would be a distraction to players, especially as Colin Montgomerie would be along soon. When they demurred further, the police threatened to turn them into a fruit salad and escorted them from the premises.