IT WAS as if the disaster of Augusta National had never happened. There, in the mandatory black hat with the shark logo, was Greg Norman, smiling and relaxed, ready to challenge for yet another major championship.

We attended this latest interview having learned that, remarkably, Las Vegas sports consultants had made Norman the 8 to 1 favourite ahead of no less a figure than his Augusta conqueror, Nick Faldo.

Twice runner-up - where else? - in the championship, Norman has won the not inconsiderable sum of 5436,308 from 14 US Open appearances. Yet with him, financial rewards have always seemed to be about other things, such as highly remunerative endorsements. Now we were talking about mental resilience.

"I won't be any more anxious now than I was before Augusta," he said. "In fact I get greater satisfaction from being the hunted rather than the hunter. So, I would welcome the idea of having a six-stroke lead going into the final round here. At the end of the day it's not winning and losing that matters, but how you play the game. I honestly believe that."

When the inevitable questions came about Augusta and about some cruel crowd reaction since then, he was ready for them. "You always learn from your mistakes and apart from bad swings at the eighth and 16th, there was nothing wrong with the physical part of my game at Augusta," he said. "It was essentially a mental thing."

Norman went on: "Obviously the majors are very important to me but I didn't start thinking about this one until last night. The Masters is different. I'm thinking about it from the beginning of the year. It's always the longest build-up." Then, gently side-stepping the isolated abuse that has been hurled at him from behind the ropes, he said: "Galleries have always been very supportive of me, whatever the circumstances."

Given events later in the morning, it was difficult to argue the point. No sooner had Norman left the media tent than he was the centre of attraction once more, this time in front of the television cameras. And the crowds were gathered around open-mouthed at seeing the shark. And we wondered if he really did blow a six-stroke lead in the US Masters only two months ago.

Meanwhile, they may have to revise that old joke which suggests that even God can't hit a one iron. John Daly arrived here this week armed with a so-called zero-iron in his bag. "I couldn't hit it," admitted David Duval Daly's playing partner in practice. "In fact I don't know of anybody on the tour who could use it except John, because of the strength needed to hit it."

Earlier this year, Daly went to his sponsors, Wilson, to bridge the gap between his driver and one iron. "I needed about 10 yards more than the one iron or IS less than the driver," he said. "So, they took about two degrees of loft off my one iron which makes it just about straight. I think it will be a great club for me, just the job for the tight fairways here."

But it was the fairways as they were in 1951 which have been exercising the memory of Dave Press, a local sheet-metal worker with 11 grandchildren. He holds the distinction of having caddied for Ben Hogan on the occasion of the Hawk's successful defence of the US Open at Oakland Hills.

"I was 13 at the time and he gave me 5350 out of his 54,000 winnings," recalled Press. "After that, I was making more money than my father. Everybody at the club wanted Ben Hogan's caddie and I'm afraid I got a big head for a while. I'd tell them Hogan stories and they'd give me big tips. I played it well. I got an extra buck or two.

A sign of changed times is the fact that while Philip Walton and Darren Clarke brought their English-based caddies across the Atlantic to be here with them this week, Press hitch-hiked 17 miles to the course each day. He remembers Hogan as an intense competitor who seldom spoke during a round and never sought advice. Press simply held the bag. When Hogan had decided what to hit, he walked over and pulled the club.

At that time, no child under 14 was permitted to caddie. So how did Press beat the system? In the time-worn manner - "I lied about my age.