COLIN BYRNE CADDIE'S ROLE:Pádraig needed five holes before he trusted the hand and fully released the club at impact

SO YOU have just won the Irish PGA Championship for the umpteenth time and instead of going out on the town to celebrate you go to the gym and start whacking an impact bag. Is that normal? No, but then again elite sportspeople are not carved out of the same stone as the rest of us.

There is a dedication and determination about the best performers in their line of business that is difficult to describe. It is a relentless quest for perfection and search for the answers to the winning questions.

Of course winning the Irish PGA by a wide margin is a great accomplishment but for a world player it is a mere aside in the greater scheme of things.

So of course a visit to the gym after a resounding victory is more appropriate with one of the biggest tournaments in the world coming up the following week.

How could Pádraig Harrington get better? Seemingly by battering the back of his right hand against an impact bag, that's how.

The trouble is that in looking for the answers to these winning questions you are in danger of pushing yourself over the edge. And when news broke that the reigning British Open champion was in danger of not being able to tee it up to defend the Open title of course it was a big story.

Instead of the Irish PGA champion dealing with nothing more than a celebratory hangover he was left in serious doubt, because of that wrist injury, about playing at all last week.

With the main man, Tiger Woods, convalescing at home in Florida the usual sound-bites were going to have to change. What a wonderful alternative: practice-round speculation about the defending champ's right hand.

As caddie to one of those due to play alongside Harrington in the first two rounds, I had to take the attitude that whether he played or not was quite irrelevant - apart from the fact there would be fewer people following the group and likely fewer distractions.

Despite my player, Retief Goosen, carding arguably the best round of the opening day, one over par, having been out in the worst weather, it was obvious the defending champion was of far more interest to the media.

Pádraig had arrived on the first tee last Thursday having warmed up for an hour under the scrutiny of as many people as could gather around the Royal Birkdale driving range. Did he grimace with pain as he hit his longer irons? Was he committed through the ball? Did he look like a man in any condition to be competing in the championship?

I did sneak a look at him as well and it looked like it was business as normal: whack, whack in the inimitable Harrington style, totally committed.

My first intuition Pádraig might not be quite up to it came when he arrived on the first tee at about 7.50am and the legendary starter, Ivor Robson, was offered Pádraig's left hand to shake; the right hand was being saved for swinging the club.

There is a theory among purists that modern equipment has taken much of the skill out of the game. This may well be true until you get a 30mph wind, accompanied by driving rain, over a primed championship links. Then the theory is cast aside and the old-school battle of wits and skills is what really counts.

Can you really hack it under the most arduous conditions?

I recall saying to myself the gruesome weather was only temporary and would probably blow through by the next day. It was a time to give yourself a boost by looking at the bigger picture for a change. Golf is normally best played in the present. Hang in and things will surely change.

Well, the rain stopped as we played the 17th hole; for many parts of the preceding 16 holes it had felt like being on the deck of a trawler in a storm. Our third player, Justin Leonard, played out of turn (he was 50 yards ahead of Pádraig when he did so) not out of bad etiquette; he was simply unable to discern anything apart from his own battered world.

Pádraig looked defensive and uncommitted in his first five holes and it took him this time to trust his right hand and fully release the club at impact.

The first day's weather was so severe it was simply a battle for survival in which competitors sought the refuge of the clubhouse with some sort of presentable score intact.

The hardy members of the crowd without umbrellas were the only gauge for the players as to how shots had worked out; you could just about hear their applause depending on the direction of the wind. If the wind was no help you looked for their hand movements in the distance as an indication of the quality of the shot. If you hit a green, the crowd were generous in their appreciation, recognising the difficulty entailed.

In many ways the weather made the task of bringing in a good first-round score in a major easier because you could simply focus on somehow wiggling your ball into the hole instead of being unnerved by the size of the occasion. Pádraig was supreme in getting up and down from 80 yards, a feat only a seasoned campaigner would have the audacity to do. He made some crucial par putts to hold his opening round together.

The gruelling conditions suited a gritty golfer, even one with a sore hand. I did not see Pádraig grimace once even if he hit a wayward shot. At no stage did he look like he was suffering with his weakened wrist.

Whatever about the tenacity of the Open champion in eking out a score in a storm it was the quality of shots he produced in the final denouement to the championship that separated him from the rest.

From 15 to 18 on the final round, when you are most likely to be at your twitchiest as a tournament leader, Pádraig produced a succession of shots befitting a supreme champion.

He took control of the Open over the closing holes, leaving his nearest challengers in a wake of outstanding approach shots.

I doubt the 137th Open champion was punching his impact bag on Sunday night after raising the Claret Jug for the second time in two years.

Perhaps Sunday night is his night off from the gym.