You are what you eat, so say those hand wringing harridans on the tele as they rifle through an unsuspecting member of the public’s basket of messages. These days, most athletes exist on a diet of twigs, soil and a variety of health-giving elixirs so for the Diarist, the sight of world No 7 Rickie Fowler popping into Greggs the Bakers in Troon was reassuring. Steak bakes, sausage rolls, pies? We’re not sure if there was much to choose from mind you. Monty had been in 45 minutes earlier … apparently.

It’s been a case of carry on camping at the Open this week. Not for the Royal & Ancient officials, of course, They’ll all be billeted in some grand pompous edifice where the bath is longer than South Beach Road. The Diarist should know. We are in the suite next door. The R&A have not forgotten the masses, though, and a free campsite for the under-25s is going like a fair. Tee in the Park, 3-Wood stock? As Richard III didn't quite say: “Now is the summer of our discount tent.”

On the tee? It’s not Ivor Robson, the silky voiced official starter who retired last year. In his place are David Lancaster and Matt Corker. One early review of Lancaster’s debut rather oddly suggested it was a “solid if unspectacular start.” Sorry? Unspectacular? He’s a starter sending golfers on their merry way not Evel Knievel. We trust Lancaster will turn up in a Liberace robe to up the ante today.