While competing recently in the Donegal Irish Open up in Ballyliffin, I realised that the thing I wanted most was to play like I did when I was a kid. I've got some really terrific memories of those days and I'm convinced they can help me become a better player.

When I won the Irish girls title in 1990 and again in 1992, I was young and fearless. Walking the fairways without a care in the world. I felt nobody could beat me. I know I'm not old now (she's 25), but it seems like a long time ago . I remember how it was , going for those titles, and it's a while since I've felt that way.

You always remember the family being there and how supportive they were. Mum and Dad. And with the Rogers clan being so closely involved as members of The Island, it was obviously good for the club. My father, Kevin, caddied for me, then, but unfortunately it doesn't work anymore. The tendency would be for him to become too involved, with disastrous results.

When he was with me, carrying my bags and giving me advice, my only objective was to do well for him. I felt he was really great foe me , and for his part I was delighted he could share in my success, coaching me and everything else.

Nowadays, we don't do that, which is a pity. I still ask him for advice, but that's as far as it goes. That's what happens when you start playing serious. And playing it for a living, as I've been doing since I joined the tour four years ago, is as serious as it gets.

The simple truth is that he can't take the pressure of it all, knowing how important it is for me to do well. I can see how nervous he gets, and he has said to me, "look, I'm better off on the sidelines". It's too nerve-wracking for him, smoking 20 fags a in two holes,. So I knew the parting had to come.

Remembering those Girls' wins is particularly important to me, mainly because my dad missed out on another big moment I had at what was really my first success in the game. That was the mixed-foursomes tournament at Clontarf, where the leading pairs from all the North Dublin clubs were competing.

I was 13 at the time and I was supposed to play with my dad, but he's in the building business and was called away to work overseas for a couple of months. So, he asked his brother Seamus one day if he wanted to play with me in the mixed. "Yes," he replied. "We'll give it a go."

That was in 1986 and we went out and played together. He was off four, which was a good handicap for him because he way playing well. And I was off 22, which was my first handicap. Obviously I dropped loads of shots after that.

When I think back on it I realise now that I was a terrible bandit, though I knew very little about handicaps. Everything was straight down the middle and I could chip and putt like a demon. No fear of anything.

Anyway, it was on for a whole week and we kept winning out matches. And at various times in the tournament, there'd be a phone call from my dad, from overseas, to see how we were getting along.

Eventually, when it was all over, he phoned again on the Saturday night. "Well, how did it go?" he asked. "We won," I replied. There was complete silence on the line. It was only after a minute or two that I realised my dad was crying. I suppose being away and that made him more emotional.

That's my magic moment. As a 13-year-old, I hardly knew what the game was all about. It never crossed my mind that you could get into terrible trouble in the rough and that your nerves could be in bits over missing short putts.

My golfing career hadn't even started, well not in a serious way. But the way I felt during that telephone call to my dad, will always be special to me.