Regular readers of this column occasionally get in touch to tell me what they think of it. Some of them even go to the extremely helpful lengths of including simple diagrams showing me where I can shove it.

Well, I think they are diagrams. It can be difficult to tell as the piece of paper these crude etchings are scribbled over tends to be crumpled from being wrapped around the brick it came crashing through the window on.

Talking of things crashing, poor old Rory McIlroy’s stumble and stagger to the finishing line in the Dubai Desert Classic struck something of a chord. 

When he found himself in a grisly guddle in a bush on the 17th and was preparing to chop his way out, those peering on from the sidelines were given a stark warning as McIlroy delivered the kind of colourful assessment that would’ve given Mary Whitehouse pearl-clutching conniptions. “Guys, this could f***in’ go anywhere,” he gasped. Funnily enough, that’s what I often tell my colleagues on the sports desk when I send them an e-mail outlining the theme of this weekly waffle.

McIlroy’s subsequent plunge into the water on the 18th, which saw his title hopes drown in a watery grave, had everybody in a desperate fankle as he missed out on the play-off by a shot. Cue a torrent of hand-wringing analysis and criticism about his general course management and reams of opinions about why Rory should’ve done this, he should’ve done that and he certainly shouldn’t have done the other. It’s easy to say that after the event, of course.

Had McIlroy’s bold approach plonked itself on the green and he went on to make the birdie he needed to win, then he would’ve been hailed from the rooftop of the Burj Khalifa. As it turned out, his poorly executed effort brought swift, withering judgement. ‘Twas ever thus in this unforgiving game of fine margins where mishaps, mishits, lapses and collapses are woven into its fabric.

In Abu Dhabi the other week, McIlroy had talked about being more of a measured and controlled golfer while reining in those cavalier tendencies that can be as gung-ho as Evel Knievel hurtling towards a ramp. The natural, attacking instincts of a born winner can be hard to throttle back, though. McIlroy didn’t become a box office draw by playing percentage golf did he?

Whatever way you want to dissect it, McIlroy’s misadventure on the closing stretch added to the thrilling theatre of a sizzling Sunday. The brilliant young Viktor Hovland, who now has six wins in a pro career that’s barely three years old, beat the reborn 48-year-old Richard Bland, a man twice the Norwegian’s age, in a play-off. It was a wonderful advert for this great generation game.

Yesterday, The R&A sent out a press release announcing that Welsh football king and avid gowfer, Gareth Bale, is to become an ambassador and a role model to help “inspire more women and young people” into the game. 

That’s fair enough – Bale is an “influencer” don’t you know – but you didn’t have to look far to find inspiration on Sunday as Hovland and Bland demonstrated all that is good about the game in the upper reaches; Hovland, one of the poster boys of a thrilling new generation, going toe-to-toe with Bland, who’s become something of a poster boy for the golden oldies. He’ll be doing a Cliff Richard-style calendar at this rate. Age, whether you’re a fearless, upwardly mobile young ‘un or a dogged, defiant veteran, has never been a barrier to success.

Over in the US, meanwhile, another 24-year-old superstar, Lydia Ko, continued her second coming with victory on the LPGA circuit to rack up her 17th tour title. After some well-documented toils and troubles, Ko ended a run of 1084 days without a win last season when she triumphed in Hawaii. This latest conquest upped the ante in the New Zealander’s resurgence.

It's startling to think that Ko’s been winning tour titles since she was 15. By 18, she was already in double figures. Tiger Woods was 20 when he won his first, McIlroy was 19 and Annika Sorenstam was a positively ancient 24 when she nabbed the first of 72 LPGA wins.

Ko made winning look easy. It’s not, of course, and winning when all and sundry expect you to win creates a hefty burden of expectation. That’s not new. The late, great Mickey Wright was a spectacularly prolific champion in the women’s game in the swinging 60s but topping golf’s hit parade can come at a price.

“It was a lot of pressure to be in contention week after week for five or six years,” Wright once said of a career in the spotlight. “I guess they call it burnout now, but it wore me out. Unless you’re a golfer, you can’t understand the tension and pressure of tournament play. And it was the expectations. It was always, ‘what’s wrong with your game? Second or third isn’t bad, but it feels bad when you’ve won 44 tournaments in four years.”

Those old words will always ring true and expectation and endless examination is par for the course. Under this glare, Hovland, Ko and McIlroy continue to ride the waves of golf’s fluctuating fortunes.