Here is a man who has played only 5 events this year and barely plays even on the Seniors tour; who has recently married one of the pin-up girls of my youth, the lovely Chris Evert, and who spends most of his time building a business empire. Here also is a man who should have won far more majors than he did but was outrageously beaten by a series of one-off shots when poised to add to his tally. He was a great champion at a time when there were lots of great champions - Ballesteros, Lyle, Faldo, Langer, to name just the best of the Europeans, let alone the Americans. Now, 8 years older than the oldest man to win a major, he’s 2 shots clear going into the final round. Forget Nadal winning Wimbledon or Spain winning the European Championships, if he wins this it won’t just be the story of the year it’ll be one of the stories of the century.

Some may say, and have on the radio, that Tiger Woods isn’t there, but conditions such as we’ve seen at Birkdale have blown Tiger away before - remember Muirfield? Woods is a phenomenal golfer, maybe even better than Nicklaus, but there is no guarantee that his swing would have survived the winds this weekend. And the fact is that his great length has come at the cost of his knee joint. Norman has a wealth of experience, vast knowledge of a variety of links conditions, and has nothing to prove. He shows every sign of being happy and content and can give this his all. Some might even say that golf owes him another major.

One radio pundit says it’s ridiculous that Norman is leading the Open, that the younger players are  failing to step up to take Woods’ place. Having been struggling with a trapped nerve in my shoulder for a few weeks I know what it feels like to be getting old despite keeping fitter and slimmer than most of my contemporaries, so the thought of hitting golf balls 350 yards and maintaining the sort of touch around the greens that Greg has demonstrated is an awesome thought, but the modern obsession with youth over experience does get a bit wearing. A few weeks ago I heard a 29 year-old footballer described as a veteran with not long to go in his career. Insane. Clearly the commentator hadn’t heard of Teddy Sheringham, hadn’t watched Dalglish at the end of his playing days, or Roger Milla play for the Cameroon side in the World Cup. Within limits what matters is whether you’ve looked after your body and have the drive and mental attitude to make it happen.

But still, 53? Can he really do it?

By god I hope so. And I bet plenty of 50-somethings all round the country hope so too.

Go on Greg!!

My admiration for this country continues to grow, and I seriously wonder if I could move here. Populated by an industrious and charming people, they also seem to have the right idea of pace of life and what is really important. And two of the most important subjects are food and drink, both of which they excel at. Indeed the only fault I can find overall is that they seem to have little concept of a light lunch! It is easy to eat so much that dinner becomes unnecessary, and that would be a crime.

Slovenian food and drink

Their ingredients are sublime: beef and venison that seems to require the lightest of cooking but exudes flavour and succulence, fish that melts on the tongue, mushrooms that can only have been created by forest elves, and soft fruits and berries that explode on the tongue with juices of scarcely describable taste. Parents, if British children won’t eat fruit and veg (and I have to raise my hand as a long time carnivore) then they aren’t being pernickety, they are merely showing good taste – the fruit you get in the UK, often imported out of season from forced cloches in Spain and similar countries, is tasteless and tough compared to the fresh, vibrant selection available in Slovenia. I have never much liked cherries – they are hard poor things in Scotland, here I have them for breakfast and then go out to a fruit stall for more. Sensational is an inadequate word. I seldom liked strawberries which often display a rough texture except in the very best time of year for native Scottish ones; here they melt in the mouth and leave juice stains in the dish.

All this of course still requires a good chef and a good waiter to interpret his creations and blend suggestions of wine and courses. Many Slovene restaurants adept at this, even the smallest simplest establishments produce excellent food, but I feel confident in saying I have been lucky enough to find the best in the Topli Val restaurant in the Hvala Hotel in Kobarid. It has won a number of awards and in my opinion if anywhere ever deserved a Michelin Star then this is it. I can only assume they haven’t visited it. In the space of two weeks – one last year and one this – I have learned more about the blending of tastes, both courses and wines and different ingredients and their effects on each other, than in a lifetime of visiting other restaurants, many of them which I thought very good. All the staff in the hotel are as friendly and attentive as could be wished for with a real personal touch that makes you feel at home; we were remembered despite it being only our second visit and greeted as old friends, but I simply cannot rate the chef and head waiter highly enough – they have delighted and educated us in equal measure. To give only one example for now, Scotland produces excellent scallops and I’ve tasted quite a few fine instances; the scallops I had here were in a different class, cooked in highest quality olive oil and presented with baby tomatoes and black olives in a delicate combination that even included the (usually purely decorative) sprig of rosemary which absorbed just enough heat to exude a perfectly combined additional scent. Heavenly.

Slovenian Wine and Beer

Slovene beer is second only to Czech in my opinion, clear and clean tasting and wonderfully refreshing on a hot day. However it is Slovenian wine which is the real secret and one which I cannot understand is not more widely known and appreciated. Having this year visited one of the best wine growing regions it is easy to see they have ideal conditions, and they certainly make the best of them. Forget the cheap Laski Reisling which was the only one ever really exported in any quantity to the UK; whether the grape is Chardonnay, Pinot, Sauvignon or one of their local varieties, Slovenian wines display a depth of character and smooth variety of flavours that had us both purring in satisfaction. Their cheaper wines are very good, their select wines are simply outstanding. Sadly the only way to get them in Britain was to import them directly, with the consequent postage costs; however there are moves afoot to establish a distributor and if this occurs then perhaps they might at last achieve the recognition they deserve. Either way I’ll be drinking them whenever I have the chance.

Last night’s by-election result which saw a Labour majority of 8000 reversed to the Tories could presage more than just a Cameron government. It might convince voters who have previously supported the SNP but backed off from full independence to finally embrace their primary policy.

Despite the Tories having the most lightweight and unknown bunch of shadow cabinet members in history (how many of them can you name?) it appears that the English are so fed up of New Labour and Gordon Brown that they’d prefer anything else - except the Liberals who seem to have dropped off the political map after getting rid of two leaders in recent years. Certainly Brown has been unlucky with the US-created credit crunch and having inherited a series of unpopular policies from a Tony Blair who was increasingly seen as having made us a pawn of George W. I suspect that there is also a backlash against a government that is persistently trying to interfere with privacy and freedoms in the name of fighting terrorism in a way that is completely at odds with any idea of a free country.

Here in Scotland it’s impossible to imagine voters turning to the Tories in the way that appears to be happening in the south, and Labour support has historically tended to be more solid, but any move away from them is more likely to see further support for an SNP which is already riding high and is generally seen as doing a good job despite being a minority administration. The prospect of their wishes being overturned by an English Tory landslide might persuade enough of the Scottish electorate to consider going it alone as a viable option. If that idea starts to gather pace then Wendy Alexander’s attempt to force the SNP to hold a referendum before they are ready might rebound even more on Labour than it already has.

Jock Stein immortally won it first and lost a second final to an outstanding and emerging Feyenoord team. Amazing to think that Stein’s only major purchase in the Lisbon Lions was the sum of £30,000 for Willie Wallace from Hearts. Ronaldo would cost a thousand times that at least! It shows how impossible it is to compare different eras.

Brian Clough, with two European Cup wins, has to be considered in the same level, especially given the fact that the Nottingham Forest team that he took to European success was languishing in the second division when he became their manager. But perhaps the only man who can be claimed to be definitely above Ferguson was Bob Paisley, who guided Liverpool to three of their European Cup wins, though the man himself would doubtless have been far too modest to claim it.

As for Man Utd, it will be fascinating to see what Ferguson does next. Scholes will surely now move on or retire. Giggs too is coming to the end of a glorious career. Assuming that Ronaldo stays then the priority will presumably be an attacking midfielder, though another striker might be on the cards if Rooney continues to be played slightly behind the front line. If of course the Real Madrid rumours turn out to be true then there should be enough money for a complete recasting.

Meanwhile here in Scotland I wonder if the Celtic fans who have wanted rid of Gordon Strachan ever since he arrived will have changed their minds now that he’s delivered a third Premier Division title in a row. And will Mark McGee really take on the poisoned chalice of Lithuanian Hearts when he could be leading Motherwell into Europe?

We may love beating the English but we’d rather see them playing enterprising running rugby when we do it rather than wasting talented backs in sterile grinding foward moves. Cipriani has looked like a breath of fresh air so far and rugby needs more like him. Pity he doesn’t have a Scots Grannie

I saw the first few about nine days ago and so far the most I’ve seen together is six, but even a couple are enough to bring a smile to my face and a lift in my heart. There’s something about their uninhibited, joyous,  swooping flight that raises the spirits and reminds you that life is there to be enjoyed.

Last year we had around twenty regularly circling and diving around the rooftops of our flat; the most we’ve had since the old brewery buildings over at Fountainbridge were demolished. Long may they return to announce the summer.

“Humph” was one of the best-loved personalities on Britain;  in some ways he was part of what made Britain the curious country that it is. Irreverent and hilarious but never ever offensive, despite some very close-to-the-bone material, his radio and live audiences on I’m Sorry I haven’t a Clue adored him. As did his fellow performers on the show. Most comics would have given their right arms for his sense of timing and ability to hold an crowd in rapt attention. I listened often, and always cursed the times I’d missed it.

Yet that was his sideline. As a jazz trumpeter and bandleader he was one of the very best, at 86 still gigging up till a few days before he died. He was doing what he enjoyed most - may we all go out in such a way. It must have been great fun working with him.
As a jazz broadcaster he must have drawn many thousands of people to appreciate his favourite music just because he was the one telling them about it, such was the respect in which he was held. Many were inspired to follow his example into the music profession and he seems to have been generous in his support of them.

Britain is a bit less British today. But we still have his recordings, both jazz and comedy, and our memories of a unique man. I hope the BBC have kept copies of every minute he ever broadcast because it’s more precious than gold.

I’ll raise a birthday glass to your memory Humph, we’ll miss you.

I’ve always loved Scotland, but if I’d known the direction the UK was heading when I was 20 I’d probably have emigrated. The personal freedoms my father and grandfathers fought world wars for are vanishing rapidly. I can only hope that Scotland finally gets independence and moves in a different direction to England.

In the middle ages it was the church that sought to control the people by keeping them illiterate and putting the fear of god into them. Now we’re tagged, satellite tracked and videoed. If you use a loyalty card your spending patterns are compiled, your mobile phone calls are recorded and your movements followed. Now the police are pushing for everyone’s DNA to be permanently stored. Maybe the politicians have responded negatively to that one, or maybe it was a stalking horse; a device to see what reaction there’d be so they could see how much they could get away with while appearing to be the guardians of our freedoms. Were this proposal to go through we’d all be suspects.

Funny how if you go out with a camera and take pictures in the street you’re “acting suspiciously”, and god help you if you’re anywhere near a school when you’re doing it. Yet “the authorities” seem to think they can take whatever pictures they like. Meanwhile we are encouraged to report “suspicious behaviour” that is so vague that everyone could be included - apparently if you have more than one mobile phone it’s a sign you may be a terrorist!? Remember the poor guy who was shot by an armed response unit while walking home with a table leg in a plastic bag because someone thought his Scottish accent was Irish and the table leg was a shotgun. That’s what happens when fear takes hold and everyone turns informer.

People used to come to this country to escape exactly this sort of repressive society! Britain was seen as a bastion of freedom. It’s time we made it plain that we want to get back to that situation.

A few months ago before the wrist injury which put him out of Wimbledon I listened with disbelief as a Radio 5 tennis correspondent wrote off his chances of being a great player because he wasn’t as physically developed as Nadal. Nadal, as plenty of teenage girls will doubtless affirm, is not only a great player but has a musculature way ahead of his age. This criticism was at a time when Murray was winning tournaments, rising steadily in the rankings towards a top ten place and clearly developing as a player and a person.

As usual there were plenty of people quick to complain when he was knocked out of the recent Australian Open in the first round. Strangely enough no-one retracted that when his conqueror went on to reach the final with a series of inspired displays. No wonder Tim Henman retired early. Britain doesn’t deserve good tennis players if this is how we treat them.