One of the great highlights of The Open is the Association of Golf Writers’ annual dinner, an extravagant, glass-clinking shindig that would make the Medici wedding banquet look like last orders at the chippy.

The diarist and his colleagues do enjoy our indulgences, particularly during an Open week when the cogs of scribbling industry birl and whirl at a relentless rate and some of the more insatiable chompers manage to shoehorn in a meal between breakfast and brunch.

On a night of praise, plaudits and prizes, the AGW members recognised the success of the European Ryder Cup team and the Golf Writers’ Trophy was presented to the triumphant captain, Luke Donald.

“Luke brings gravitas to the top table,” whispered an onlooker. The diarist, meanwhile, brought six cans for under the table.

*The good folk of Troon have been asked by the local police to be the “eyes and ears” of the community in a covert effort to combat any threats of dissent and disruptions.

Those Just Stop Oil eco-warriors caused a bit of a stooshie at last year’s Open when they invaded a green at Hoylake. Here in the Royal Troon media centre, meanwhile, the diarist is half expecting the sports editor to burst onto the scene, take one look at these diabolical dispatches and shriek, ‘for Pete’s sake stop, just stop’ before glueing his hand to the laptop in protest.

*After years of tireless service, admirable endeavour and the odd moment of minor controversy, the diarist has been elevated to the committee of the Association of Golf Writers.

As the great and the good of this fine body gathered for the agm yesterday, some suggested that I may have to go through an official swearing in ceremony. “Oh, for **** sake, not you,” my golf writing brethren chorused.