Harrington and Byrd under par - so are Sky

TV VIEW: USED TO be the Masters was only fed to us in little bits and pieces

TV VIEW:USED TO be the Masters was only fed to us in little bits and pieces. A thin slice of a froth and forced badinage between Peter Alliss and Steve Rider would make up the Wednesday night preview on the BBC and we'd eat it up like Paddy's Day sweets in the middle of Lent. "What's that, Peter? The golf course is in perfect condition? Thank the Lord for that."

Well, the BBC’s days are gone. It’s Sky’s gig now. Sort of. Because it’s Setanta Ireland’s gig too. Er, sort of. And it’s still sort of the BBC’s gig, just not until the weekend. Confused?

Oh, do keep up. All we know for sure is that it’s not RTÉ’s gig anymore. Myles Dungan’s jumper has presumably formed a support group somewhere and is setting the world to rights in a parish hall along with one of Gaybo’s cravats and some of the more unhinged of Fortycoats’ 50 pockets.

A land of plenty, then, but only if you’re hooked up to a decent TV package. If you’re the kind of golf fan who wouldn’t let them Sky Sports hoors through the door (morning, dad) and you’re not a UPC guy/gal either, then Thursday and Friday of the Masters is none of your business.

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The BBC coverage will start at on Saturday night and you can join the rest of us then. Don’t feel too bad about it – at least you don’t have to listen to Monty.

Nor did you have to endure the Guantanamo-style torture that was last night’s coverage of the par-three tournament on Sky. For two-and-a-half hours, they did their best to make a TV programme out of a glorified kids’ picnic, hammering every last angle they could dream up into the ground. And that was before the actual play was zapped by the weather gods. As an exercise in stretching resources beyond breaking point, it would have made the lads from the Troika turn cartwheels.

Poor old Kirsty Gallacher drew the short straw as the presenter who had to make you feel as if you weren’t undermining your very existence by tuning in. Fair dues to her, she made a stab at it.

“Defending champion Luke Donald isn’t playing this year but the other competitors will know that Luke’s par-three win was a small stepping stone on the road to a terrific season.” Ah, here.

Kirsty’s enthusiasm was rather undermined by the obligatory footage of toddlers in boiler suits scampering around the par-three course. “That’s what this event is all about, right there,” chuckled Butch Harmon.

Also, Thomas Bjorn’s caddie for the day was Ant of Ant and Dec fame. Some stepping stone.

When Kirsty’s wingman Mark Roe started listing off the various clubs players would be using, you knew it was time to go and make the tea. If you think that sounds like desperate time-filling, well poor Roe wasn’t done yet. He was tasked with trying to make the hoariest old coincidence in golf – nobody winning the par-three slap-about and the Masters in the same year – into something real and relevant.

“These players will have it in the back of their minds,” he offered. “And who knows? It may even creep into their minds when they’re on the back nine on Sunday. You don’t know that.”

You don’t, no. But those two-and-a-half hours won’t fill themselves so you may as well say it.

Once the play itself began, we were treated to news that, lo and behold, Pádraig Harrington was co-winning the thing, with American Jonathan Byrd. “But,” warned Kirsty, “our coverage may end before the final result is in.”

Turned out she couldn’t have been more wrong. We got to see about 10 minutes of Jack, Arnie and Gary Player pushing it around before a storm came in and the screen went blank. Sky Sports went off air for an age before frantically – and not a little bizarrely – throwing on footage of Tiger playing against Rocco Mediate in the 2008 US Open.

By the time they came back, the sky was black and play was abandoned, Harrington and Byrd were declared the winners and that was that. Sky, of course, were left with another hour to fill and when we left him, Mark Roe was starting to talk about the weather.

He had our sympathy but he didn’t have our ears. Life is just far too short.

Malachy Clerkin

Malachy Clerkin

Malachy Clerkin is a sports writer with The Irish Times