Keep your friends close but your hand luggage even closer is a phrase that I’ve just made up. As most of you will testify, airline travel is a quite appalling fankle as you career about a terminal in a desperate lather, rummaging in bags for boarding cards and passports and generally displaying all the poise and grace of the Keystone Cops trying to perform the Dashing White Sergeant.

Of course, the genuinely terrifying prospect of hurtling through the air at 30,000 feet in a metal tube is made even worse when someone mistakenly trots off from security with your carry on case, a quite unique palaver which befell this correspondent en route back from the BMW PGA Championship. Semmits, serks, socks, boxer shorts? A gentleman by the name of Terry Anderson would have got a hell of shock when he opened it. Mercifully, myself, my bag and my humble belongings should be reunited this week.

It was an eventful end to an eventful few days at Wentworth. For Keith Pelley, the European Tour’s chief executive, it’s all about big events. The excitable Canadian is certainly not lacking in enthusiasm and his driving ambition and bold declarations of intent know no bounds. Words like magical, outstanding and spectacular are spouted in gay abandon … and that’s just to describe the lentil soup he had for lunch. You should hear him wax lyrical about actual golf tournaments.

Pelley wants big occasions, big prize funds and big players. This is the man, after all, who negotiated a $5 billion deal for National League Hockey broadcasting rights in a previous role.

The eye-brow raising announcement last year that, as part of Italy’s successful 2022 Ryder Cup bid, the Italian Open prize fund will rocket to a staggering 7 million euro as of next season set down a significant marker.

Closer to home, meanwhile, those behind the Scottish Open will be peering on with interest as Pelley continues to put his own stamp on the European circuit.

With a purse of £3.25 million, the Aberdeen Asset Management-backed event is one of the more lucrative championships on the schedule while its prized slot the week before the Open itself is a diary date that other big tournaments desperately crave.

It’s clear that Pelley wants various groups of big-money events at certain sections of the campaign. The tour already has the Desert Swing at the start of the season and the $22 million Final Series, in Turkey, South Africa and Dubai, at the end of the calendar.

Something like a links swing, involving Scotland and Ireland, in the lead up to the Open Championship may be in the pipeline and the Scottish Open’s cherished position could be challenged.

Those behind the Irish Open, for instance, would clearly love that pre-Open slot. The Irish event is backed by Dubai Duty Free, a company with the kind of eye-watering riches that would make a Sheikh look like Albert Steptoe, and they could easily crank up its already substantial prize fund of 4 million euro to Pelley’s 7 million euro target. Money talks in this game. The bargaining phrase “if we give you 7 million can we have the week before the Open?,” may be heard at the negotiating table.

The Scottish Open prize pot will rise to a minimum of £4 million by 2018. In Pelley’s big, bold world, though, those behind the domestic showpiece may have to have a guddle down the back of the couch and up the financial ante even further. These much sought after slots in the schedule don’t come cheaply, after all.

AND ANOTHER THING

Rory McIlroy hadn’t won in 2016 and it was all ‘what’s wrong with Rory?’ And then he won the Irish Open the other week and everything was rosy again.

Jordan Spieth, meanwhile, went a mere nine events without winning and it was ‘what’s wrong with Jordan?’ And then he won at the weekend to put a stop to all the knee-jerk mutterings.

By today’s hysterical measures, where everything is either brilliant or terrible, we can only assume that when Ariya Jutanugarn’s rousing run of successive wins on the LPGA Tour comes to end – she made it three in a row on Sunday - the hugely-talented young Thai will be in a crisis?

It’s a fickle old game.