Tuesday 12 June: The bedside clock reads 4.07 a.m. Wide awake, brain pumping with fresh ideas and ready to go. But it's the middle of the night. Welcome to a new time zone. All of the European players and their porters are twitching in their new American beds early morning, still working off the European time clock.

Arriving at Southern Hills golf club at 6.16 a.m. we were greeted by Tiger Woods. The locals have obviously got wind of the great man's early arrival and they bustle up the steep incline to the clubhouse in their droves to catch a glimpse of him in his blue-hooped Tuesday shirt.

Wednesday 13th: A relative lie in. Wide awake and ready to run a marathon at 4.33 a.m. I've got the taste of lunch for breakfast. America is an early country and I am certainly not alone in my 6 a.m. journey to the course.

Word has got back to the USGA things are not as they should be on the 18th green. With the severity of the slope on the green of the 461-yard par four finishing hole combined with the speed of the putting surface, there is a danger of turning the event into the US Open ping-pong championship.

So the final green resembles something of a laboratory. The "lab technicians" are running a series of experiments throughout the day. They conclude that if you don't mow the lawn and pump water on it all day long the grass will get longer and the incoming balls will therefore gain some purchase on the steep surface and eventually stop. Well done the USGA. By the end of the day the 18th green has the appearance of a lush, verdant lawn and not the tiled and sloping patio it had resembled that morning.

Thursday 14th: It's mood change day; the real test has begun. The miserly corner of space that was the "caddie lounge" outside the locker-room has been reduced by half this morning to make way for the scoreboard people. The thermometer is placed in full view of the overheating cads as a constant reminder of just how hot the recircled air from the overhead fans is.

So when the wind changes direction in the afternoon and the predicted storm blows in, the 100 caddies on the course or on the range are supposed to take shelter on the balcony, in the anteroom of the locker-room. Well done the USGA.

Friday 15th: A bumper day for the punters. They are going to see Tiger play 27 holes today. Somewhat more laboriously than they are used to, as it turns out. It's 9.04 p.m. as I slot the pin back in the 18th hole, drawing a veil over the dark finish to Paul Lawrie's second round and first US Open. He misses the cut. The brightest thing around the hole are the fire-flies flickering in the trees.

Saturday 16th: David Duval struggles to get his head around the bizarre rule, unique to the US Open, that players do not get relief from spectator walkways on the fairway. Duval had smashed a drive on to the fairway to under 90 yards from the pin on the ninth coming to rest on the crowd-damaged walkway. Andy McFee, the roving rules expert, advises the upset Duval that unless the lie is "really bad" he is not entitled to a drop. He proceeds to duff his approach. Well done the USGA.

Back in my ice-cool hotel, I enjoy the extensive coverage of the golf on television. The heat seems to be having an adverse effect on the resident squirrels. Padraig Harrington's caddie has to shoo a frolicking bushy-tailed rodent from the 18th fairway as he bounds around in front of Harrington's ball, much to the amusement of the crowd. Nick Faldo has a similar run in with a furry friend on the eighth green when it darts in front of his ball as it approaches the hole. As it makes a return pass Faldo makes as if to shoot it. This is greeted with hilarity by the mob. Retief Goosen is interrupted by another squirrel on the ninth fairway. It is the only time he changes his otherwise deadpan countenance. He momentarily cracks a grin.

Sunday 17th: Dave McNeilly gets up early to give his shorts and shirt some extra special attention with the iron. You see his boss Padraig Harrington has been drawn to play with Mr Woods. Outside the locker-room Jim McKay (or "Bones") rushes from his perch on the balcony towards his boss, Phil Mickelson's car. Phil stops at the closest point to the locker-room entrance and jumps out of his car, Bones jumps in and valet parks the vehicle for his man.

Victor Garcia is fidgeting outside the locker room with his chosen accompanying club of the day, a sand wedge. Victor always follows his son Sergio around the course with a club under his arm.

"Hopper" and "Helpful" wait patiently for their respective players, Garcia and Goosen, in a gas cart parked under a tree in view of the locker-room door. The two caddies are best friends from Durban, South Africa. "Hopper" used to caddie for Goosen till he left him to go with "El Nino". They agreed they would both be happy if one of them got into the winner's enclosure.

I make an aborted attempt to see how Dave McNeilly's ironing is holding up under the heat of battle. I get to see the top of his head as he rakes a bunker (hair a little ruffled), I can't tell about the clothes. Having looked at the back of an enormous amount of heads for five holes, I head back to my hotel to watch the finish on the telly. Well done the USGA.