In my case what happened next in 1999 was that I fell apart over that back nine. When I saw I was in genuine contention that year I felt like throwing up. That remains probably the most nervous I've ever been on a golf course.

The satisfaction you get when you finally beat your dad is amazing, that rush of adrenaline.

I'm heavier, but with muscle rather than flab. It's a massive difference. It means I don't get as tired sometimes and it means that I'm hitting the ball a lot farther, about 15 yards more with my driver.

I'd been told there are 10 difficult holes and eight impossible ones. I'm still trying to work out which the 10 difficult holes are.

Now I'm giving up a little in the week-to-week tournaments but reaping the benefits in the majors.

You're the only one in control over your golf ball. It's not like tennis: you're hitting a shot and somebody's hitting it back at you.

I'm 37, I'm pretty fit and feel I have another eight years left - which means there's 32 Majors still to go at.