THIS column has long held the suspicion that if Al Qaeda ever became short of numbers, they could corral a group of people into a room and show them incessant footage of the US PGA Tour.

After being forced to watch hours upon hours of a few decadent westerners occupying vast acres of green vista, interrupted only by the occasional unnecessarily luxurious car given to whoever manages a hole-inone, surely they would be frothing at the very capitalist ideal that allowed such a situation to come to pass. "Who will be brave enough to win the play-off?", the commentators would gurgle, as a couple of multi-millionaires attempted to put a ball in a hole in the least number of shots.

"This!" the cell leader would yell, "This is what they think defines courage! Arm yourselves brothers!" And so forth.

I enjoy watching golf on TV.

Mostly it's because of the soothing qualities, like enjoying the sound of the ocean, only with less sand. And a TV.

But, occasionally, some sort of dormant socialist ethic emerges and slaps me upside the beardy chops, wondering how I could possibly be interested in whether some rich, ridiculously named goon can bring down his stroke average on some sunsplashed field in Phoenix.

These chops got slapped a lot on Wednesday night, when BBC NI showed On Tour with Graeme McDowell. McDowell is a local boy done good, from Portrush and rapidly becoming a major force in the sport. Good luck to him, he's probably a decent guy. I just wish our relationship hadn't become so sickeningly intimate.

We joined Graeme in Orlando as he drove us to his house, telling us with that mid-Atlantic drawl of his about the golf course on which he lives. His back door is 50 yards from a driving range and he shares a postcode with some of the world's best golfers. While playing some pool in his house with interviewer Stephen Watson, he lamented, "I would have preferred a snooker table, but this is going to have to work for now."

This programme frequently described itself as "privileged" to be allowed access to a year on tour with McDowell. However, we never saw a tournament in America, never seeing the 2006 PGA Tour card-holder having what was euphemistically described as a 'disappointing' start to the season.

Instead, we saw him cruising round his ludicrously opulent Orlando hood in a golf buggy, saying "awesome".

We finally got to see him playing some actual shots in an actual championship when he travelled to the British Open at Hoylake. He tore up the place on the opening day to lead "the world's most prestigious tournament" after the first round. Strangely, we didn't see footage of any subsequent rounds.

So what next in the year of Graeme McDowell? Nothing, according to this. He didn't make the Ryder Cup aaand, that's about it. Quite a rollercoaster we're sure you'll agree. Still, we got a chance to look at his new Portrush penthouse under construction while Watson seemed to read from McDowell's CV: "He's levelheaded, down to earth, hard-working, with a driving passion for success." Might as well give him your job so.

This was a hagiography so knee-bending that it probably tells other hagiographies they're amazing. Clearly the scant co-operation provided by the subject was enough for him to veto anything like a genuine insight or negative portrayal.

But hey, this was localised fluff. If you got more than 10 minutes into this drivel and aren't related to Graeme McDowell then I hope you were getting paid better than me. And nobody's here to piss on anybody else's Setanta Golf subscription. Enjoy the sport. Oppress that socialist uprising. Do what I do. Bet on it.

A quick word about Off the Ball, which featured an excellent interview with Gerry Cooney, the boxer termed the Great White Hope back in the 1980s.

Cooney's most famous fight was against Larry Holmes, hyped by promoter Don King as a black and white contest. Cooney famously displayed a shamrock on his shorts, playing up his Irish heritage and earning a huge audience both here and in America. Off the Ball secured the services of boxing pundit Bert Sugar to give some background before the interview.

Sugar you may remember as the consummate bar stool expert from peerless boxing documentary The Fight.

The producers also managed to find some ABC radio footage of the era, when legendary commentator Howard Cosell got a bloody lip when caught in the crossfire between a belligerent Holmes and Cooney at ringside. Cooney himself was a charming interviewee, giving heads up to all his folks back in Kiltimagh, Co Mayo, while people texted in with their memories of watching the fight on RTE.

This was excellent radio; evocative, informative, well-researched and well-received judging by the volume of public reaction. From the sounds of it, Off the Ball is rapidly turning into a national treasure.