As for the venerable Augusta National itself? We were warned that it had been unrecognisably transmogrified. So on Thursday we tuned in nervously expecting to find that Magnolia Lane had morphed into Wisteria Lane, that Martha Burk had been seriously 'make-overed' into Gabrielle, that Rae's Creek had become Brokeback Mountain, the 12th become a par five and that Hootie was running a nursery for Afro-American orphans.

Instead we got the usual.

Syrupy tributes to Hooties' kingdom by the usual postGary McCord obsequious CBS commentators, the usual hideous boiler suits, Tiger maxin' it into the pine spills, Phil smiling, Retief frowning, Freddie hitching, 'the delightfully eccentric' Alliss (to borrow his description of Max Faulkner) sending out daft big shouts to some old centenarian codger in the Home Counties. Yes, despite all the apocalyptic warnings to the contrary, we got the same old Masters package.

There were of course some 'tweaking' differences from previous years. Some players (well, Lefty) were carrying two drivers. Like Macbeth's Great Birnam Wood, the pine plantations seemed to have been on the move, the bunkers had been Sahara-ised and the course had been elongated by a monstrous 150 yards.

But as Peter dutifully observed all the changes were done 'so beautifully you can't see the joins'. Unfortunately you can't see the breaks either, which accounts for the fact that there were quite a lot of missed tiddlers, constant head-scratching and kneetrembling 'comebackers'.

The Beeb's hardest working contributor, Ken Brown, laid strong claims to that title as he seemed to know everything there is to know and more about 'the high technology agronomy' that is Augusta.

He should know as he was up before the dew sweepers.

He reported on subsoil central heating and a man with a giant hose. You can see why the crazy eco-warriors are targeting golf clubs for water wastage.

Speaking of wastage there was Shane O'Donoghue. He popped up each evening and conducted fascinating interviews with Brian McElhinney and then disappeared as quickly as Tigers' smile after Mr Swoosh misses one.

There was a lot of whining about the lengthening all week and we didn't like one aspect of the lengthening ourselves. Previously you could jump from RTE to BBC with two button presses, now due to City Channel, and the even ghastlier Channel 6 you have to use two drivers and a long iron. And you might still get repeats of Friends/Mork and Mindy etc.

At the least the BBC did try to fill in the spasmodic gaps. Shambolical RTE had two talking heads in Montrose saying things like, 'It seems like the first four holes are the key to the opening at The Masters' or looking at Padraig's scorecard while the BBC were actually bringing us 'up to speed'. No wonder the Government decided to leave the Ryder Cup to Sky. One got the distinct impression that the country is not losing much if this is the best that terrestrial TV can do.

As for the golf it was , as Peter observed, 'the usual mixed bag' of brilliant shots, amazing flubs and David Duval. The crowd seemed a bit muted. Just a few token 'it's in the hole's' and some half-hearted cheers for the geezers who should be at home drinking mugs of Ovaltine rather than plodding around the course for five interminable hours.

And that was five hours before Tiger discovered the wind which was, according to David Feherty (on the Spasmodic Channel), blowing in 360 different directions. At the same time.

One thing is certain.

Augusta could do with some real bada-bing. Or perhaps Gabrielle as Tiger's caddie discarding her boiler suit at Amen Corner.

Predicted winner . . . Sky Golf.