THE GRANDEST STAGE OF ALL

Editor-at-large Bill Elliott looks ahead to a special week in St Andrews, shares his favourite Open memories, and avoids staring too deeply into his crystal ball

- Bill Elliott

Never has it been more true... build it and they will come. All 290,000 of them booked in, men, women, and children, eager to be part of history and a meandering sporting tapestry more impressive than any other, the door shut to non-ticket holders for the very first time.

Yes, the 150th Open Championship offers much and, yes, it will deliver, be it in wind, rain, sunshine, shadow or, quite probably, a bit of each. Whoever wins will feel even more blessed than usual. Those of us with the keys to the door will be more privileged than ever. I can't wait for the fun to begin and I know you will feel the same.

The Open at St Andrews is always special. The Old Course, so simple yet so subtly complex, the nearby sea, the town itself that reaches out to embrace warmly this old jousting field. There simply is nowhere like it. Other games may have glittering, modern stadia to impress, but St Andrews offers an alternative - a sprawling chunk of nature that has grown as naturally as an oak, if even more carefully haphazard. I love it - love the atmosphere, the people, the pubs, the buildings, and the specialness that you sometimes feel you may reach out and touch.

Too romcom for you? Tough. If you feel that then you haven't been to this corner of Fife, haven't smelled the air, drunk the beer, walked the beach, or sat amid the ancient ruins of castle or cathedral, often while chomping on very decent fish and chips. You don't even need to have played the Old Course to sense the magic, but if you have and you recall the sight of this ancient town rearing up before you as you head for home then you'll even more surely know what I mean.