But Vijay didn't. It's just not his way. Instead, he stood there in that emptying players' car park, next to his own gleaming wagon, and started to analyse. . . and analyse, and analyse, and analyse.

"It's time to forget about this tournament and look forward to Augusta, " he says, at last, three days later. "I have a week off now, and if I use it properly, working on the right stuff, I will show up in Georgia ready. I'm sure of it. I'm very close to playing good, very good. I know it's there, know it's not far away. All I need is a little work and a little mental positivism. You get into a lull and start thinking of all the bad things. I have to start thinking of all the good things. I believe I'm going to have a good year. I don't know if it's going to be a great one. Maybe in Augusta we'll find out. See, it's all to do with my rhythm. . ."

When Singh starts referring to his "rhythm" it's advisable to go off, make a cup of tea, complete a Sudoku . . . and then repeat the process. "It's like a bow and arrow. You pull the bow to the max and let it go. I'm not quite doing that." At times like this, Vijay and his game really do seem indistinguishable. Where exactly does Singh start and the swing stop?

Over the years, many have found it too easy to say that they don't, that it's all just one big circle of obsession, and this, of course, is what has led to the cruel write-offs: that he is mechanic to Tiger Woods's artist, man-made to Ernie Els's innate, blend to Phil Mickelson's single malt. None of which bothers Singh very much. Probably because it just plain isn't true.

Sure, Singh practises longer and hence more diligently than any of them . . . although Woods's coach, Hank Haney, has raised sceptical eyebrows at that claim . . . but in public he is also more natural than any of them. While Woods has mastered the PR ploy of saying plenty but giving away nothing, and Mickelson's smile continues to be the most expertly erected facade in sport, Singh rivals Els for his transparency.

But unlike nice-guy Ernie, wiseguy Vijay cannot hold back. This tongue never was for biting.

"It seems to me that it's just like top guys have almost conceded nowadays, " he declares at Sawgrass, waging war on the pencil nibs once again. "It's like we arrive at the tournament and they've conceded if Tiger is playing. That's the feeling that I don't have. I'm more aggressive. I want to go out there and take it on, and if my game gets back to like it was I'll be there. I'm working very hard towards that."

Woods knows how hard. Eighteen months ago the supposedly uncatchable world number one had to sit there openmouthed, just like that snoring hare, and watch as an opponent emerged from his shell to overtake him. Granted, Tiger's game had fallen asleep somewhat, but with nine PGA Tour victories in 2004 (matching Woods's best) Singh's had sprung into a seemingly everlasting life. "Yeah, that was fun, " recalls Singh. "It was the result of hard work. I mean, I've always followed the oldtimers, Ben Hogan and Gary Player, and they always thought that to get good, you've got to practise. The more you do it, the more it pays off. So that's what I did. And in a way the chase was more fun. The sense that number one was on the horizon made you work a little harder and play a little better. But, you know, once I was the number one I had a lot of fun doing it."

Singh stops as he says this, no doubt to reflect on the six months he enjoyed at a summit that Tiger had governed, uninterrupted, for a record five years.

While his fall since has hardly been vertiginous (he won five times last year, after all, although he's still waiting for his first W of 2006) there has definitely been a drop-off in his giddying consistency. "It's kind of disappointing not being up there week in, week out and not feeling the same excitement, the same adrenaline you felt a year ago, " Singh admits. "I still want to go get it, still want to find what I had. The enthusiasm in me to be number one is as strong as it ever was. And I think I'm capable of doing that. It's not going to happen in the next two or three weeks, as I'm 10 points behind Tiger [in the world rankings] and that's huge. That's 10 wins and he's not going to stop winning in the meantime, either.

But don't count me out. I'm going to be up there again. I just have to step up, that's all."

More likely, at the age of 43, it will require something resembling a quantum leap, beginning with one gigantic bound at Augusta this week. But to discount the Fijian from doing so, is to discount an entire career of the impossible; of the poor boy escaping the Pacific Islands via some hitherto unheard of route called golf; of the desperate wannabe on the Asian Tour escaping the shadow cast by a ban for "cheating";

of the elite professional escaping an even more imposing shadow cast by a genius who comes along once every few sporting generations. No wonder, when he won the green jacket that offered him credibility in 2000, he was wont to bellow into the Augusta night air: "Kiss my ass, everybody."

"I'm not totally obsessed by golf, " he has been known to say.

"I do have a life outside it." But when the rest see him teeing it up every week, and, in his offtime, robbing the driving-range attendants of their sleep, perhaps they can be forgiven for speculating that here really is a man who is only Singh when he's winning. And when he declares an unrelenting hunger for more, at his age, you accept that this is no normal competitor.

"So yes I want to try to relax a bit more, but I have to be positive as well. If I don't want to go out there and get it, I fear it will slip away. And I feel it's right to be expectant going into Augusta because I do have a great chance of winning. You know it's all to do with my putting. A few weeks ago I found out that I was standing too far away from the ball which made me reach out and give me too much room for movement. I moved the ball closer to myself so my eyes are right over the ball and. . ."

His voice drifs off towards the land of the initiated. Singh must be analysing again. Forever analysing.