Johnny Miller, who is spearheading the NBC television commentary team at the US Open, has been known to walk a course at daybreak so as to familiarise himself with all the pin positions. But this emphasis on homework would hardly be necessary at the Olympic Club which, by his own admission, he has played about 1,000 times.

That was what I thought until I met him one evening earlier this week in a major, San Francisco golf outlet, where he was doing some promotional work. He was in the company of ageing rock star, Alice Cooper, who is reckoned to play more golf than most tournament professionals.

Without much prodding, Miller recalled his early years as a member at Olympic Club. "I was playing off a plus-two handicap as a 16-year-old and off plus-four at 18 (when he was tied eighth in the 1966 US Open)," he said. "That was considered to be fairly hot on a course where most strangers could be expected to shoot 10 or even 20 strokes higher than their normal game."

He went on: "I saw it as such a true test of shotmaking that when I went on tour as a professional, every other course seemed easy. I believe this was one of the reasons I had so much success at places like Phoenix." Which, incidentally, was where Miller was an amazing 24-under-par in 1975 when winning by a crushing, 14-stroke margin.

So, there was no need for homework this week, I suggested. Whereupon golf's most accomplished anchorman produced a three-foot spirit level. And in explaining how he used it to assess the slopes of every green on the course, he suggested: "I try to do things that other guys don't."

This was also evident in the sight of him earlier that day, getting out of a golf buggy beside the 17th green and proceeding to measure the distance between the front two bunkers. "You've got to look for that special something that will separate you from the sheep," he added. Alice Cooper smiled, knowing precisely what he meant.

"We will make the Big Bertha even better. And the areas were we believe there is still scope for improvement are distance and directional control." Eli Callaway, speaking in the aftermath of the USGA's benign ruling on club-design this week.

The next time a leading player encounters serious putting problems, we may find him ignoring the quick fix of the broomhandle and opting instead for a bed at the Mayo Clinic. The what? Yes, it's true. The famous medical centre in Rochester, Minnesota, is currently engaged in a two-year study of the yips.

This is the frightening malady of which Henry Longhurst observed sagely: "Once you've had them, you've got them." But after seeking clues in a survey of 2,700 local golfers, experts at the Mayo Sports Medicine Centre don't necessarily agree.

Medically, the condition is described as focal dystonia, originating in the nervous system. And while Europe's most celebrated victim, Bernhard Langer, relied on practical selfhelp, Mayo researchers are not without support.

It seems that Mike Tracy, a Minnesota club professional and a yips victim for 10 years, is sold on the current research. "If anyone can find a cure, it's the Mayo Clinic," he declared. While tending to side with Longhurst's view, we wish them luck.

As one might expect at an establishment rich in tradition, there are some marvellous stories about the Olympic Club and its more prominent members. One of my favourites concerns baseball legend Ty Cobb and a decidedly youthful Bob Rosburg, who is now a respected television golf analyst with the ABC network.

Rosburg was a skinny lad of 12 and an incurable baseball fanatic when he and Cobb clashed in the club championship of 1939. We are informed that the youngster "stared down and thrashed his 52-year-old idol by 7 and 6 on the Lakeside course," where the US Open is currently in progress.

Neither of the contestants' lives would ever be the same again. Rosburg turned his back on baseball to become a successful professional golfer, while Cobb got such unmerciful ribbing that he made only one subsequent appearance at the club - in the St Patrick's Day tournament of 1941. He eventually resigned his membership in 1958.

Rosburg, now popularly known as Rossie, recalled: "After our match, I never heard from Cobb again. I guess a couple of guys were particularly hard on him and his reaction was `the hell with it.' Cobb didn't say a word. He just got up, cleaned out his locker, walked away and never played golf at Olympic again."

Aged 74, he died a wealthy, but bitter man in July 1961, when only four baseball representatives attended his funeral. For his part, Rosburg can reflect on a happy, full life that included victory in the 1959 USPGA Championship and more recently, involvement in the design of the original Odyssey Rossie putter.

Given the state's stringent environmental requirements, it is quite an achievement that California is soon to have its 1,000th golf course, making it second only in the US to Florida, with 1,170. Small developments have virtually no chance, insofar as it might take five to 10 years to get planning permission.

Developers of a course in Santa Clarita have been waiting five years on a clearance. But the current state record is held by the Hellman Ranch site in Seal Beach, which has been under consideration for 12 years, because of concern over its wetlands and tidelands.

"It is rare that anybody can afford to wait that long," claimed one developer. "By the time you've waited out the permits and lawsuits and everything else, it's real expensive. And these costs have to be passed along to the player, which is bad for affordable golf." Which goes some way towards explaining the state's average weekend green-fee of $57, including buggy.

With all the talk of power hitting these days, it is interesting to note the recent comments of 86-year-old Sam Snead, who actually drove his own car to Augusta for the US Masters two months ago. So, how much longer are today's players off the tee than the so-called Slammer? "In my prime, I could drive it with most of these guys," he replied.

Recalling the good old days of steel shafts and persimmon heads, Snead went on: "On average, I drove it about 275 yards and could pump it up to 300. But I learned early on that if I throttled back, I hit more fairways and had more birdie chances." And what did he think of Tiger Woods? "He takes too many chances and was too early in shortening his swing."

This day in golf history . . . On June 20th, 1982, Tom Watson captured the US Open at Pebble Beach after spectacularly holing a birdie chip from a most unpromising position off the edge of the green at the short 17th. As a student at Stanford University, Watson was a frequent visitor to Pebble Beach, yet never before did he achieve anything so dramatic.

As Watson approached the 17th tee, his great rival, Jack Nicklaus, had completed a final round of 69 for the clubhouse lead on 284. And a record fifth title seemed destined for the Bear's trophy cabinet when Watson hit a two-iron tee-shot into the rough between the two bunkers to the left of the 209-yard hole.

Faced with a difficult chip, he was urged by his caddie, Bruce Edwards, to "get it close." To which the player replied: "I'm not going to get it close; I'm going to make it." And so he did, with a sandwedge shot of 18 feet. When a probable bogey became an amazing birdie, Watson understandably played the menacing, 540-yard final hole cautiously. He still birdied it to take the title by two strokes.

In brief: Around this time of year, I would be expecting a note from Peter O'Neill, telling me about the annual outing of the Mended Hearts GS, of which he was secretary. Sadly, there will be no note: Peter died last weekend. With his sharp wit and generous nature, he was a wonderful colleague. Ar dheis De go raimh a anam.

Teaser: There is reasonable evidence that a player's ball came to rest in a large puddle of casual water. A ball is visible in the casual water, but the player cannot retrieve it or identify it as his ball without unreasonable effort. The player abandons the ball and proceeds under Rule 25-1c which provides relief for a ball lost in casual water. Was the player justified in doing so?

Answer: Yes. A player is not obliged to use unreasonable effort to retrieve a ball in casual water for identification purposes. However, if it would not take unreasonable effort to retrieve a ball in casual water, the player must retrieve it. If it turns out to be the player's ball and he elects to take relief, he must proceed under Rule 25-1b (i); otherwise, he must proceed under Rule 25-1c (i) (covering a lost ball).