US MASTERS: MARY HANNIGANfinds the much-hyped experiment of witnessing the Masters in a novel way less than engaging . . . for a good reason

SO, YOU’RE sitting in a pub in the suburbs of Dublin staring at a giant screen and wondering if it’s just you who’s not experiencing “the beauty and challenges of Augusta being brought to life right in front of your very eyes”, as Sky had promised of their 3D service all week.

“Does Monty look three-dimensional to you?”

“As opposed to?”

“Well, one-dimensional?”

“Na. But to be honest, he . . .”

“Stop.”

And there was Tiger Woods on the screen, waxing lyrical about his first view of 3D-sport-on-telly, in the “locker-room” at the Ryder Cup last year. “I was blown away because it became more real,” he gasped.

Well, this is certainly true of 3D football. A slow-motion sliding tackle from Peter Crouch once reportedly led to the entire pub dropping their pints and running screaming for the exits. Sometimes it can be far too real.

But golf? That should be a more genteel and aesthetically pleasing 3D experience, you’d imagine.

Already, even without 3D, Sky take you airborne down the fairways of every hole, twisting and turning and swooping your way to the green like a kamikaze seagull. It’s an interesting flight, but not one you really want to take if you’ve just had a chicken curry, or the like.

This year, David Livingstone told us, Sky’s Masters’ coverage “is also available on Sky Player, Sky Mobile, Sky Sports News and via the Sky Sports website”, not to mention the 3D business.

Peter Alliss was, probably, sighing in front of his 1D telly over in Surrey, in a “just show us the bloody golf” kind of way. He might even have preferred the pictures that David showed Butch Harmon of his father, Claude, winning the Masters in 1948. Black and white and grainy.

Apart from the bit of colour, though, our picture wasn’t a whole lot more impressive. David tried to convince us what we were watching was a telly revolution.

“You have to think, Colin, that Augusta National and 3D were made for each other,” he said in Sky’s course-side studio.

“Well, they are,” Monty purred, “you’ll get a worm’s eye view of the golf course. This will be a superlative viewing opportunity.”

“Are you getting a worm’s eye view of the golf course?”

“What, like popping me head out of the ground and getting decapitated by a Rory McIlroy chip?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Either our eyes were deceiving us, then, or we were being deceived. This was like any other telly golf we’d ever watched, apart from Rory’s superlative 65 . . .

There was no sense at all of “being there”, of feeling like a branch on the Eisenhower Tree, or having a quite literal sinking feeling as the ball dropped in to the hole.

But “exciting days indeed, we’re breaking new ground”, said Bruce Critchley, insisting this was indeed a whole new ball game.

So we complained when the barman came over to top up our beer nuts. He noted the complaint, but then advised us we wouldn’t get a worm’s eye view of anything at all until we put on glasses. So, we did.

“I mean 3D glasses, not Raybans,” he said, in a slightly smirky kind of way.

“Give us some, then.”

“I’ve none left, the customers binned them after an unfortunate experience with Peter Crouch.”

“And another thing,” he said. “You do know Sky’s 3D coverage doesn’t actually start for another two hours?”

Ha, of course we knew that! (“You big one-dimensional eejit. I’m going home.”)