Very struck by how all commentators marvel at Tom Watsons total relaxation at the prospect of winning at the age of 59
All mention a similar calmness in Ross Fisher, the imminent father, also in contention for the prize
Reminds me of Arthur Ashe, beating Jimmy Connors to win the Wimbledon crown, although I do not think that relaxed is quite the right word for Ashe. He was in a place, a zone where he just knew – or rather had determined – that his time had come
Summed up really by Connors anguished cry: I AM trying! in response to a remonstrance from a voice in the crowd
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People of my generation are a bit bemused by the serious tone of the discussion about whether Ross Fisher should simply drop his clubs, walk off the course & proceed to the private jet which is on standby for when his wife goes into labour
Even though we are now used to hearing of sportsmen doing their familial duty in this way
Things were just beginning to change in my day, some hospitals would let father into the delivery suite if he insisted. By the 1970s one started to dread yet another blow by blow account from a male colleague who had had the privilege of being there
Many of us were born to fathers who were otherwise engaged at the time, to mothers who could not be certain that they were not facing a life of widowed single parenthood
Do they fly our soldiers home from Afghanistan to do their duty?
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It has just become the focus, a metaphor in a way, for the change in mens role as fathers
One which runs the risk of missing the point, aiming at the wrong target, just as NCT classes in contractions ignore the main problem.
How do you cope, what on earth do you do with this baby, possibly the first you have ever been in the same room with, let alone held, fed, bathed, comforted – just been totally responsible for, less than 48 hours after the emotional tsunami of the birth
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And after all that, neither new dad nor old dad fulfilled the Open dream
