We have a saying in England which covers days when a golfer’s timing is a little less than expected, wanted and needed. It goes along the lines of: ‘couldn’t hit a cow’s backside with a banjo’.

I had total empathy with that statement on Sunday during the final round of the Players’ Championship at Sawgrass, Ponte Vedra, Jacksonville, Florida. (If you need the zip code contact UPS). The banjo was in my hand, the bovine butt staring me in the face, but hit it... no way, and that’s not an affliction I’ve suffered much from in the last couple of years.

I may have been leading going into the last day, but, to be perfectly honest, I got away with things for the first couple of rounds. I was actually surprised to be 12 under par. As the course got harder over the weekend, I really needed to be on my game, hit the fairways and control the ball. Instead I was holding a greasy pole and there’s only one way to go when that happens. I had been quite proud to get in contention when my game wasn’t in the groove so I’ll just keep working on the things I’ve been doing and aim to be better next time.

There were chances to be taken, you just had to play well and I didn’t. But it’s not something I'm going to pull my longer hair out over. If you don't play well, you don't deserve to win and I just didn't play well over the weekend. End of story.

But there were plusses to my latest trip to the land of Uncle Sam. Biggest was definitely the reception I get from Americans these days. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever been unpopular in The States, but people do seem to have warmed to me over the last few years. Can’t be anything to do with my sense of humour, must be since I linked up with UPS.

The late finish on Sunday meant that getting home would be neither be easy nor quick. Chubby, my manager, had several options in place including a contingency plan for volcanic ash, the stuff coming from that thing in Iceland with the name nobody can spell or pronounce.

We wouldn’t have been terribly disappointed if the mountain had had stomach ache on Sunday because, if planes were not going into England, we could so easily have hopped over to the Caribbean to watch The Twenty20 World Cup. Alas, England had to do without our support.

Now I’m getting ready for next week’s PGA Championship at Wentworth and my first chance to see how many potholes my friend and ISM colleague Ernie Els has placed along The Burma Road.

Early suggestions are that The Big Easy has made it anything but, particularly for amateurs. However, the rave reviews have been building and I can’t wait for my first look.

Hopefully I’ll be holding a club rather than a banjo this time.