I WAS speaking to someone the other day who said they were embarking on a digital detox. That basically means they refrain from going on their phones, laptops or various forms of social media for, oh, about 55 minutes and then hop back on those phones, laptops and various forms of social media for the next nine hours to tell all and sundry what a life affirming, purifying process it was. It’s a bit like the golf writers abstaining from scribbling about the infernal LIV Golf Series saga.

Anyway, being a fairly old-fashioned oink – I still, for instance, get my updates on current affairs from grainy footage of John Craven’s Newsround – I find our gadgetry obsession befuddling. 

It all reached a mystifying nadir when I once discovered a pub that had small television screens embedded in the back of the urinals with each showing half-time analysis from a Huddersfield versus Wycombe Wanderers cup tie. Now, read that sentence back again and ask yourself if we live in a sane, civilized society?

Talking of having your mind-mangled, did you watch the conclusion of the KPMG Women’s PGA Championship at Congressional on Sunday night? If you did, then perhaps you’re just slowly emerging from behind the back of the couch because Lexi Thompson’s finish made for the kind of grisly spectacle that would’ve had Mary Whitehouse writing a stern letter of complaint to the relevant authorities.

Once again, Thompson found herself on the cusp of major championship glory and once again it ended in crushing disappointment as she squandered a two-shot lead with just three holes to play. Since winning her one and only major as a carefree 19-year-old back in 2014, Thompson has racked up 18 top-10s in the various grand slam events including four second place finishes. Those losses are becoming increasingly harrowing, however.

This latest black sabbath unravelled in such a ghastly fashion, you half expected the last couple of holes to be played out behind a police cordon. At the end of it, there was the added thwack to the morale of a $2000 fine for slow play. But more about that later.

In many ways, it was quite remarkable that Thompson was vying for a major title given the dicey chip shots and dodgy putting strokes she has in her locker. What she also possesses, of course, is a tremendous ball-striking and shot-making ability. But every time she stood over those nervy ones that require the courage of your golfing convictions – the tight lies, the dinky dunts and the short putts – you had your hands over your eyes watching her execution.

Yes, it’s rich coming from someone like me, a man who can barely stand the pressure of the garden hose while dousing the perennials let alone the strain of a knee-knocker of a putt in the media stableford, to pontificate about Thompson’s shortcomings. But, my goodness, it was painfully compelling to watch.

She had a yippy putt from a few inches on the 14th which didn’t threaten the hole while her shattering hoik over the green on the 16th was the kind of tentative, jabby, ungainly scoop that would bring guffawing ridicule at the Association of Golf Writers’ summer outing. A make-or-break birdie putt on the last to force a play-off, meanwhile, never looked like making it. It can be sad to watch a player of undoubted talent succumb to the frailties that rear their head when the pressure mounts in these ultimate tests of golfing skill and nerve.

After last year’s US Women’s Open collapse when Thompson frittered away a five-shot lead on the back-nine, this latest sore one will only add to the psychological damage. In the unforgiving arena of professional golf, the weaknesses in Thompson’s game were ruthlessly exposed again. It’s a cruel, merciless business.

You can say one thing for her, though. Thompson is certainly box office. When the 11-time LPGA Tour winner is in the hunt at the majors, you have to buckle up, cling on and expect an exhilarating and exhausting white-knuckle ride. Rather like watching Jordan Spieth in his chaotic pomp, there’s never an uneventful procession with American golf's sweetheart.

And talking of a procession, the issue of pace of play was on the agenda again with Thompson, and fellow final-group competitor Hye-Jin Choi, both receiving fines.

On the Saturday, the last group were 15 minutes shy of a preposterous six hours. In fact, it was so slow, they had to change TV channels because play had extended over the allotted time. At one point, you were tempted to get off your seat and give the tele a thump on its side in the hope that would spark some life into proceedings. Sunday’s final three-ball - and three-balls on the final day of a major never goes down well -  took five-and-a-half hours.

But what impact does a monetary fine have? Not much, really. Thompson won over $700,000. A $2,000 slap on the wrist is loose change in among the hanky and hoose keys in the pocket. Docking shots, as most folk will declare, remains the most effective way to combat a problem which is a pest across the golfing board.

But there’s no real sign of the issue improving. Just as there’s no real sign of poor Thompson’s fortunes improving in the majors.