I'm not one to name drop but I was sipping a beer in the Rusacks Hotel alongside the 18th at St Andrews on Wednesday afternoon when who should walk in and sit next to me but... wait for it.... Arnold Palmer. Yes, the King. Not only did he sit next to me but he actually SPOKE to me. Hearing him say my name is the undisputed highlight of what has so far been a rather disappointing golf career.
The rain was lashing against the window of the hotel lounge and Arnie, as he insisted I call him, was supposed to go and play in the Champions' Challenge. An hour before he was scheduled to tee off, he said, ''Excuse me, Clive but I have to go to the range now and hit a couple of hundred balls.'' Ever the gullible one, I turned to him and exclaimed, ''Really?'' He looked me straight in the eye and said, ''You believe that?''
Part of the fun of The Open is spotting golfers and famous faces. To give you some idea of what a disappointing year it's been so far, the most famous non-golfing face I've seen so far belongs to Alex Salmond. Still, there's two-and-a-half days to go.