The camera zoomed into the flattened fescue grasses of the St Georges links last July as Padraig Harrington weighed the chances of extricating his ball back onto the 14th fairway.

"What have we got here?" the commentator mused. "Looks like Ian Poulter's hair," quipped Sam Torrance.

A fair description of the Nordic Open winner's barnet. Picture a skunk with dyed coat in thick undergrowth - that's what Poulter's hair looks like. It's eye-catching, to say the least.

Ian Poulter has won three tournaments in Europe in the last nine months. He is a man in form. He has received a lot of attention for his golfing feats of late and rightly so. But this does not seem to be enough for the 27-year-old Englishman. He clearly wants to be perceived not only as a great golfer but also as some kind of trendsetter.

Golf by its nature is not much given to displays of flamboyance. Arguably, a consistently successful golfer will be someone who shows little eccentricity. The professional golfer is taught to be a machine. The game is about repetition. This is why pros spend hours moulding their swings, hoping to attain if not perfection then at least a boring reliability that works time after time.

Weeks, years and decades on the driving range are intended to pay off when the big moments come on the back nine on Sunday, and the swing keeps repeating even under extreme pressure. Boring repetition is good in this case. In fact, being boring is deemed a virtue.

The game is increasingly about routines. Show up for a tournament at the same time every week. Play a practice round at the same time every week. Hit balls for hours on end. Spend an hour in the hotel gym before dinner. So the pattern goes in the typical week of the golf professional.

Tournament days and the players will arrive at the course about an hour and a half before their tee times. They might have a massage, a bite to eat and a regimental 45-minute warm-up. Some may even be carrying the precise number of balls they will hit during the warm-up.

Once on the course the water consumption starts with regular sips. And the calories: a banana on the third hole, a power bar on the fifth, another banana on the tenth, another bar on the 14th. Consumption is regular.

Most have a strict routine over the ball, always identical, with a prescribed number of seconds from focus to hit. If they find themselves walking too quickly between shots they will deliberately adjust speed.

These are not men, I hear you say. No, they are modern golf pros, finely tuned products of increasing knowledge, advanced science, sophisticated coaching, psychological counselling, relentless repetition and boring routine. There you have it. This is where the low scores are coming from. If you are looking for characters, I'm afraid you are looking down the wrong sport.

Shaun Micheel, the PGA champion, is typical of the numbed golfer mentality. His reaction to holing a long, snaking putt is not dissimilar to his expression as he watches a drive sink deep into lush rough.

Nick Faldo springs to mind when we look for the modern pioneer of the repetitive mode. Nick mastered the art of controlled par golf in the 90s. Unfortunately for Faldo, he had just about sketched his name onto the leaderboard of every major when along came the power game. He never readjusted.

Faldo achieved success without charisma. This did not seem to be enough for the fans. They wanted a ruthless pro who was also a jester. Rarely do you find such a combination.

Maybe this is where Mr Poulter's hairdo comes in. It is his flag of independence in a sport that has become increasingly regimented.

Poulter is a fine golfer. He is dedicated and diligent and he surrounds himself with what he believes is the best support team and I respect him for that.

With his striking bouffant he is an obvious symbol for the new departure in British golf, and a welcome contrast to the grey-slacked blazer brigade.

I suspect he would go far to get attention. Anyone who parks his Ferrari in front of the Belfry hotel and leaves it there all week so that you have to sidestep it to leave the hotel is either out of petrol or craving notice.

But behind the showy exterior and out-of-control coiffure lies a golfer totally in control of his game. He is as boringly repetitive in his approach to the essentials as any of his peers.

So don't be blinded by the flash - it is just a release from the boring routine that has got him to the high position he enjoys today.