Eamonn Gavigan

Mr brief was simple - live in Lee Westwood’s back pocket.
In fact, I spent the week with the Westwood family, his mum Trish, dad John and his then girlfriend, now his wife, Laurae Coltart.
They made my job, some people wouldn’t call it that, very easy.
We walked and talked every yard with Lee in practise and during the tournament.
We talked about his early days as a junior and the route to super-stardom which led to his place in the elite field of world golfers at the US Masters.
But little did I know that I was going to make the news back home on day two of the tournament.
After the walking the first nine holes with the Westwoods, I popped into the Media Centre for some refreshments.
As I was walking down the 10th, the next thing I remember is somebody helping me to my feet.
"Are you all right sir, here sit down here. Let me wipe the blood away."
What bloody blood, what’s she talking about? Gradually, I started to get my bearings, I was sitting on one of the marshal’s chairs.
Someone was pressing something on top of my head.
"You were hit by a falling branch," I heard someone say. "The ambulance is on it’s way."
Ambulance, I could feel myself starting to panic. They are going to take me away.
A few minutes later a golf buggy turned up with a red cross on the bonnet, it was the ambulance.
I was ferried back to the clubhouse, butterfly stitches were applied and they filled in the accident book.
I caught up with the Westwoods at the 15th. "Where have you been?" said John.
Well, you’ll never believe this but ......