There are few better feelings than the sporting mood swing that takes place at this time of year. The clocks go forward and leave behind frozen pitches, abandoned race meetings and the set menu of men chasing balls of varying shapes in fixtures of no relevance. Now is when things start to matter. Defeat at rugby or football can be season-defining, a knockout blow, a pack-up-and-go-home moment. That’s real sport, the kind that matters because the hurt from losing takes time to heal.
There is no denying the appeal of the sharp end of the Champions League and Heineken Cup, but beyond lies a sporting summer of wonderful variety. Formula 1, tennis, cricket and athletics are all stocked with performers as good as it gets, but first up and most tantalising is spring’s heavyweight curtain-raiser, the Masters.
You don’t have to see the world through the bottom of a large pink gin to realise that golf is now the real global battleground of individual sport.
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