The merest suggestion that an individual liked the good life and was "a bit fond of the jar" would set alarm bells ringing for a prospective employer, or father-in-law. But in tournament golf, such an image is now viewed as a definite plus which could seriously enhance a player's commercial worth.

Darren Clarke discovered this on a recent trip to Japan to compete in the Chunichi Crowns tournament. Indeed he was fascinated to hear himself described as something of an idol of middle-aged Japanese, one of whom went so far as to suggest over-mouthed: "I believe you even drank on the night before you beat Tiger."

The cigar and drinker image is all good fun, of course. But the serious side is that Clarke's fee for a corporate day has actually doubled since his generous girth and cigar smoke were seen on world-wide television from La Costa last February, en route to a $1 million tournament jackpot.

"Business people view him as an ordinary person who is likely to be good fun when the day's golf in over," said his manager, Andrew "Chubby" Chandler. "It's certainly a change from the strait-laced guys who will have a quick mineral water and then dash off for 15 laps around the block."

He went on: "In the knowledge that it made sound commercial sense, I tried to get Darren to smoke cigars four months before he actually got round to it. It's the same reason that Payne Stewart and Rodger Davis wore plus twos and that Per-Ulrik Johansson wears a cap the wrong way around."

The two big markets which have opened up for Clarke in recent months are the US and Japan. And the merit of Chandler's approach can be gauged from the fact that Clarke, who has never won in Japan, is just as popular there as fellow client Lee Westwood, who has had four victories there over the last three years.

Tournament professionals have long been viewed as performers, back to the days of Walter Hagen who was among the first to entertain the public with more than just a splendid golf game. And few sportsmen have had such a love-affair with the public as Arnold Palmer, who continues to captivate galleries into his seventies. So, for that special corporate day, there would appear to be considerable appeal in the image of a simple, fun-loving Irishman. Never mind that it is somewhat at variance with Clarke's Ferraris, BMWs and private air travel. Commercial benefactors don't have to be made aware of such details.

"THERE is only one way to travel to golf, believe me, and that is first class at the expense of Lord Beaverbrook." - Henry Longhurst, during his stint as a golf-writer for Express Newspapers.

WE should be marvelling at the fact that the ILGU are managing to stage the Irish Women's Close Championship at Baltray this week with their customary efficiency. For if one were to believe "expert" male opinion at the time of the union's launch 100 years ago, they should have gone out of existence long before now.

As it happened, the Ladies' Golf Union, which governs women's golf in these islands, was founded in 1893, the same year as the ILGU. And when a certain, "distinguished" male golfer of the time was informed of the move, he felt obliged to write a cautionary letter to Miss Martin (later Mrs Hulton), the inaugural treasurer of the LGU.

Dated North Berwick, 9th April 1893, he wrote: "Dear Miss Martin. I have read your letter about the proposed Ladies' Golf Union with much interest. Let me give you the famous advice of Mr Punch (since you honour me by asking my opinion). Don't. My reasons? Well!

"(1) Women never have and never can unite to push any scheme to success. They are bound to fall out and quarrel on the smallest or no provocation; they are built that way! "(2) They will never go through one Ladies' Championship with credit. Tears will bedew, if wigs do not bestrew the green.

"(3) Constitutionally and physically, women are unfitted for golf. They will never last through two rounds of a long course in a day. Nor can they ever hope to defy the wind and weather encountered on our best links, even in spring and summer. Temperamentally, the strain will be too great for them. The first Ladies' Championship will be the last, unless I and others are greatly mistaken."

Commenting on the piece, the celebrated golf writer Bernard Darwin was understandably curious as to the identity of the author. Eventually, Darwin was forced to settle for the observation: "He was at any rate not a distinguished prophet." Indeed.

ANYONE who has become involved, willingly or otherwise, in the writing of a golf-club history, will be acutely aware of the torment of seeking notes, maps and other records, where precious few exist - which prompted the Suburban Club of Baltimore County, Maryland, to plan for the future when they celebrated their golden jubilee 50 years ago.

So it was that all memorabilia relevant to the foundation and development of the club were stored in a metal capsule and buried in the club grounds. Even if the clubhouse happened to burn down, the safety of the documents would be guaranteed. Or would it?

Officials of the facility, which happens to be celebrating its centenary this year, would dearly love to lay their hands on the buried treasure - if only they could locate it. Club minutes indicate that it was buried somewhere behind the diving-board of the swimming pool, but nobody thought to consult the minutes when the pool's pumphouse was rebuilt some years ago.

Now they're considering the use of a metal detector to locate the capsule. One assumes they will first pass a local rule permitting the use of an outside agency.

JARMO Sandelin's disqualification from the French Open last weekend brings to mind a similar event more than 20 years ago, which hardened Sandy Lyle and Nick Faldo from rivals into enemies. For those unaware of the Swede's problem in Paris, he bent the shaft of his putter without realising it during play of the ninth hole, so altering its playing characteristics in breach of Rule 4-2.

The putter was also the relevant club in a Safari Tournament in which Lyle applied tape to the head, during a round, to reduce glare. Faldo, a fellow competitor, reported the matter and, as a consequence, Lyle was disqualified. Incidentally, it may come as a surprise that the same rule also forbids a player from spitting on a clubhead, if such action were proved to be for the purpose of influencing the movement of the ball. In this context, saliva is considered to be "foreign material".

AS we all know, boys will be boys, even when they count their pocket-money in millions. So it was that when Kerry Packer arrived with his own club professional at the Trump International course in Florida recently, he threw down a challenge. The Australian suggested a my-pro-can-beat-your-pro match with Donald Trump for a tidy little bet of $50,000. When Trump accepted and the match was under way, Packer suddenly realised he had made a costly miscalculation. He didn't realise his man would be coming up against Bruce Zabriski, one of the most competitive club pros in the US. In the event, the combatants were level after 11 holes, but Zabriski then wrapped up the match by covering the next four in five-under par.

After collecting the winnings, the pro was directed by Trump to spend $10,000 on equipment for the golf shop; distribute $15,000 to the golf staff and keep the remaining $25,000 for himself.

TEASER: A player purposely refuses to identify a ball as his. What can an opponent or a fellow-competitor do in such a case?

Answer: An opponent or fellow-competitor has the right to be satisfied about the identification of a player's ball. If a player has dishonestly not identified his ball, the opponent or fellow-competitor may refer the dispute to the committee (Rule 34-3). In such a case, the committee would be justified in imposing a penalty of disqualification under Rule 33-7.