Caddie's Role:It is hard to argue with the organised world's philosophy about preparation.

The adage of never put off until tomorrow what you can do today is usually very sound advice to have ringing in your ear as you toy with the television remote control and the on button to your laptop.

I have generally worked on the theory of "even if you have loads of time leave it till the last minute". This has always applied to my column. There was one week in 1999 when I actually had a spare piece written on a Thursday with the intention of saving it for a dry week. Of course I used it the next Tuesday. Despite many people, who have never written, advising me to scratch a spare, I have never had one since.

I was in Orlando, Florida, last week for the renamed Arnold Palmer Invitational event, hosted by the King at his Bay Hill Club. My hotel was situated, as they say over here, right across the street from the Universal Resort.

It was a wonderful location for 98 per cent of the hotel guests who were visiting Universal. It wasn't the greatest spot for a single man with no kids and thus no interest in the land of Disney.

The queues didn't stop at Universal; my room was on the 10th floor and if I timed my return badly it was quicker to climb the 10 flights of stairs than endure the juvenile screeching in the snaking lift queues. I did visit the attractions in Orlando years ago and my most vivid memory is of standing in line.

So I side-stepped the attractions, but lived them vicariously in the elevator queues back at the hotel in the evening, and opted for the "real" world of professional golf. I trawled the back rooms of the Bay Hill club for another angle on the week's proceedings. The best I could come up with was the air of discontent among the rank-and-file golfers about the proposed new tournament to be hosted by Tiger Woods. It is to replace the defunct International event in Denver, Colorado, and is scheduled to be played in the summer in the Washington DC area.

The discontent concerned the proposal that the event would be a limited field, "elitist" tournament. Some were arguing that it should be a full-field event to give the lower ranked players a chance to earn a cheque.

With a late tee-time on Friday, I woke up relatively early, rejected the remote control and turned on my two-week-old Sony Vaio super lightweight laptop. I had spent a considerable amount of time choosing my new computer. The deciding factor in my final choice was that it weighed only 4.1lb with the battery. Despite having all the bells and whistles, the weight, to a technophobe, was the seller.

So I embarked upon the early column for the first time in a long time. By 10.30 on Friday morning I had written the first draft to today's piece.

What a relief it was to stride the fairways of Bay Hill without the antennae extended for a scoop. Of course, drama ensued that afternoon involving our playing partner, KJ Choi. KJ hit his third shot into the water on the tough, par four 16th hole. He had to drop his ball on a steep incline by the hazard.

By the time he had prepared to hit his chip shot, the ball had rolled back into the water. He had not caused the ball to move, but he incurred another penalty anyway.

His ball ended up in a fish pool in the water. The particular fish who lived in this pool did not like golf balls in his patch. So it took KJ's ball in its mouth and deposited it elsewhere. Figuring out the penalties required the services of two referees.

Anyway, I had my story written, so I didn't need to pursue the Korean and the fish angle. I stood by smugly and relished the fact that I had cranked out a piece so early in the week.

I ate immediately after the round and didn't get back to the hotel till quite late.

When I awoke on Saturday morning, given that Retief was playing well and had a late tee-time, I decided to have another look at what I had written. I couldn't find my lightweight laptop anywhere. Oh no, I soon realised after scouring the room that my new computer had been stolen. Worse still, today's article had gone with it.

Saturday's round went well, which meant that we got drawn on Sunday to play with the main man, T Woods. Something else to write about, I thought, as I tried to console myself about the pilfered computer.

When you play with Tiger on a Sunday a mystifying buzz surrounds him. Fairways lined six deep with expectant Tiger-watchers creates a boisterous atmosphere. When he started birdie, birdie, I was sure I was going to witness something incredible from the world's number one.

I witnessed some incredulity alright - as he played the back nine like Mickey Mouse in eight over par. The worst finish ever endured by the savvy predator.

If I can ever remember the tack I took in my original ramblings destined for today's paper, which I assume have since been hacked out of my Sony Vaio by some criminal computer geek in Orlando, I may have an article in reserve for one of my many dry weeks.

Although with the consequences of last week's organisation I think it would be wiser to stick to my nature of putting off today what can be left until tomorrow.

Preparation will not necessarily work in your favour.