CADDIES ROLE:Amateur Danny Lee's victory in the Johnnie Walker Classic proves he is the real deal, writes COLIN BYRNE

THERE ARE not many people who are prepared to tell golfers exactly how things are. The professional game has got more than its fair share of sycophants who massage players’ egos with what they think they would like to hear.

We were in the one country in the world last week where gaining favour through flattery is most definitely not part of the culture. The Johnnie Walker Classic returned to Western Australia and the Vines Resort set in the Swan Valley vineyards east of Perth.

The tournament was what is reported to be the final professional appearance in West Australia of “The Shark”, Greg Norman. The iconic Norman, in his 50s, still commanded more attention early in the week at the Vines than any of the promising whipper-snappers in the field.

That was until he missed the cut and the race began for the trophy, with the relatively young and less famous contenders battling over the benign back nine last Sunday.

The usual conditions did not pertain, with soft fairways and greens making the strategic Graham Marsh-designed course very tame.

The weather had been extremely hot for the past month which meant the greenkeeper could not risk firming the greens up in the run up to the event. This was coupled with the notable absence of the “Freemantle Doctor”, the cooling south-west afternoon wind that soothes overheating bodies but plays havoc with golfer’s minds.

The Australians demand a lot from their sports stars, probably a symptom of the fact they tend to punch well above their weight given the size of the population.

Despite “The Shark” losing his teeth, so to speak, in golfing terms he still has the charismatic presence of a superstar. He seems to have defied ageing in the last decade, he is physically as fit as he was 20 years ago and his athletic figure would be more fitting on a 30-year-old.

So as the Shark bemoaned his bad putting as the problem with his game some local residents figured they would let everyone who walked down the left flank of the 11th fairway know how they felt about the national icon. They draped a sign outside the master bedroom window simply stating “Norman Ain’t Performin”.

In case “The Shark” didn’t notice the message, the residents had perched themselves on their hot-tin roof and vocalised their thoughts as the Norman entourage stormed by.

The media and golfing public in Australia have never been lenient on any “tall poppies”, as high achievers are called in the land of Oz. I remember being here back in Norman’s prime at a time when he had finished second in quite a few events, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. As the television commentators were filling in some idle moments they started chatting about the sponsors of the event in question, “The Holden Australian Open”. They mentioned the car company had named a class of car after the great man. “The Greg Norman Holden”. To which the other commentator replied, “Is that the one with the automatic choke?”

Humorous, if somewhat cruel. If a commentator had suggested that in America he would lose his job. In Australia political correctness will never get in the way of a witty jibe at a national icon.

Many of the contestants and their bagmen stayed at the dune-dotted beach at Scarborough, north of Perth; a scenic location that meant a long bus trip out to the Vines each day. The 6am bus wound its way through the parched land towards the vineyards and at 6.40am last Thursday pulled into the Resort.

The driver took a wrong turn but was abruptly alerted by an Australian colleague. He pulled down Henley Brook Close in order to rectify his mistake.

My mouthy colleague unnecessarily riled the under-pressure driver by suggesting he was going to get us stuck down a cul-de-sac. The driver was determined not to make any more mistakes and in his haste he gave a lamp post a bit of a nudge while reversing. It was listing slightly and the street sign was hanging off its last screw.

Somehow the resident who benefited most from the particular street lamp was suddenly outside in his front garden scratching his head and berating the bus driver, who was now picking up speed on the right road for the clubhouse with an impatient bus load and the listing lamp post a distant vision in his rear view mirror.

Plain speaking in Australia is not just a male preserve. We played with a Queenslander, Tony Carolan, who had his wife caddying for him.

Having been in four bunkers in the first four holes and watching his tee-shot descend into another trap right of the pin on the short fifth, Carolan’s wife said, “I have had a gut-full of raking traps for you, you can do this one yourself.”

Her husband splashed out to three feet, marked his ball and went back to rake the trap. He knew she wasn’t joking.

Listening to the commentary of the final round last Sunday I did not hear any suggestion of the eventual winner “choking” or backing off. Probably because the 18-year-old amateur winner, Danny Lee, a naturalised New Zealander and Korean by birth, was doing anything but backing off over the closing holes of the Johnnie Walker Classic.

While those around the hottest young prospect in world golf were in the commentators words “facing ugly par putts”, or “having their rounds going south quickly”, he was birdieing the final two holes to capture his first professional event as a teenage amateur. In doing so he became the youngest winner on the European Tour and only the second to win as an amateur.

Norman may not be performing but the Koreans are and there are plenty more promising golfers where Lee comes from. It’s time for the Australians to let “The Shark” go and embrace this new young talent that has been nurtured on Antipodean soil. Danny Lee is the real thing and that’s the truth.