THERE'S one thing that can spoil the enjoyment of watching sport at times - other people.

Now I love the great atmosphere big crowds can bring as much as the next person but there is often a price to pay.

Take the recent Open Championship at Hoylake.

Golf is probably the only sport I know where the spectators finish up more exhausted than the players particularly if you want to watch one of the more high-profile figures.

I always try to go to at least one day of the Open when it is in the north west so I popped along on the second day this time.

A day at the golf is never complete without seeing Tiger Woods in action but - for those who've never done it - watching possibly the greatest sportsman in the world is no picnic.

It's fair to say I'm not one of life's Peter Crouchs, and I couldn't quite fit the stepladder into my rucksack, so if I wanted to get any sort of view of what was going on I had to be quick.

That often meant thinking two or three shots ahead I started to wonder whether I was planning the round more than Tiger was to get into the right positions.

But a golf course, with its hills and thick grass, is not the easiest thing to dash around and I'd had enough of trying to keep ahead of the thousands of other Tiger fans after about nine holes.

That was only the second day I can only imagine what mayhem was unleashed on the course on the final day and I wonder if a capacity should be decided upon for future Opens.

The difficulty in seeing anything of note has increased since I first started going to the Open in 1996 and it has started to become more of a trial than a pleasurable experience.

Strangely enough, the most enjoyable period of the day for me was the early evening, when the marauding masses had departed and the course was left free for the pure golf enthusiasts to roam and see whatever they wanted.

Following the group of Warren Bladon, Brett Quigley and Michael Wright no I hadn't heard of them before either may not sound tremendously appealing but it had that personal touch that is often lost in modern-day sport.

They exchanged banter with the people that had taken the trouble to support them and acknowledged you personally after you had applauded their shots. Tiger Woods would spend days completing a round if he did that.

And that is the problem with being one of thousands of people supporting the same person or club your voice begins to count less and the bond becomes weaker. Tickets can be a lot more difficult to get hold of too.

I've had both sides of the coin following Bolton Wanderers up from the old, old Division Three and, while I wouldn't want to go back to that for a second, it is telling that the supporters sing as much about the heroes of yesteryear as the stars of today.

The average footballer is not as close to supporters as once was the case and I think that is a shame.

So if, like me, you often wonder how fans of Rochdale and Doncaster can seem happier with their lot than supporters of Manchester United and Liverpool, maybe that is part of the answer.