Until February, Kieran O'Toole, of Baltinglass, Co Wicklow, was content with his life. But then, along with thousands of other "managers", he entered the 1997 Carlsberg Golf Masters and it's been hell since. It was meant to be a bit of fun, a fantasy. The managers were "given" budgets of £12.5 million to spend on seven golfers and were allowed to make four changes to their teams during the 52-tournament competition. One man entered 400 teams - at a cost of £800. First prize was £10,000, £1,000 for second, and £500 for third.
"If it carries on like this I'll be kicked out of my job and I'll be divorced," said Kieran a month ago, as the stress associated with managing the second-placed team began to get to him.
By next Sunday afternoon, he predicts he will have taken up residence in a psychiatric institution. And if his team hasn't won enough money at the British Masters and the Texas Open, the final tournaments of the competition, his three children probably won't visit him.
Kieran promised Colm (14), Cian (10) and Jack (9) a holiday in Florida next summer if he clinched the £10,000 prize. They now suspect the second-place prize won't get them within a mouse's squeak of Disneyland.
Kieran, and everyone else, is chasing Dr Edward Staunton, of Mullinahone, Co Tipperary, who has led the competition for 11 of the past 12 weeks. For Kieran to bridge the £61,550 gap he needs Lee Westwood to do what he has so far failed to do this season - win a tournament.
If Sam Torrance is the surprise winner at the British Masters, there could well be scenes of mass hysteria in Castletroy, Co Limerick, home of Matthew Ryan, currently in third. But if Ronan Rafferty or Daniel Chopra astound the world of golf by winning on Sunday, there'll be no sleep in Glenties, Co Donegal, where fourth-placed Dermot McHugh resides.
But we worry about how Kieran will cope with the tensions of the weekend. "Ah, don't. I've psychologically half-resigned myself to not winning and I've told my wife and children to forget Florida. . .but deep down there's a glimmer of hope.
"If I win, I'll become one of those spoilt celebrities, I'd love that."
But would the press not start digging into your private life?
"God, I hope they can find something," said the man who describes himself as a "terribly boring, middle-aged golf nut".
