Honey, I shrunk the Open

IS IT just me or are golfers getting younger? On the main road into Gullane, which threads its way through the town's apron of linksland, temporary signs warn drivers that there are "children crossing".

Along the coast at Kilspindie, where you expect to find empty beer glasses on the tables of the clubhouse patio, there are fruit shoots, bread crusts and a lunchbox with Spongebob Squarepants on it. In the distance, a caddie can be seen coming down the last, hand in hand with his player.

Welcome to the US Kids Golf European Championship, which unfolded over the links of East Lothian last week. For those unaccustomed to the joys of the junior circuit, it was a surreal experience, a scene from Honey I Shrunk The Open, all mini Tigers and My Little Ponies, kitted out in Nike caps, graphite shafts and pink-ribboned pigtails. Had they been gathered anywhere else, it might have been mistaken for a beauty pageant.

That, of course, conjures images of spoilt brats and pushy parents, a perennial source of debate at events such as these, but there was no arguing with the quality of the golf. From the hole-in-one by Seher Kaur Atwal to the 29 posted at Kilspindie by nine-year-old Samantha Fuller, it was quite an exhibition by some of the world's best young players who, perhaps most importantly, seem to have the right mentality as well. If you are a frustrated parent, who can't persuade your wee one to focus on a plate of beans, never mind a five-foot putt, best not to read any further.

Some were as old as 14, but it was the spectrum's other end that caught the eye. Take William Hill, for instance, the tournament's youngest player, with curly blond locks, a permanent smile and remarkable concentration for a boy of just five years and three months. He finished way down the field, but with two years left in the seven-and-under-category, don't expect him to stay there. "He surprises me all the time," says his mother, Helen Quinn. "When he is in the bunkers here, you can't even see him, but he splashes out no problem. The only thing is that he gets a bit tired. Three miles is a long way to walk at that age." Not that you'd notice. After his round, he is to be found over by the practice green, calmly chipping ball after ball up to the hole, each one sweetly struck with the correct weight. Every night after school, he is down at the local club in Nottingham. His drives travel about 130 yards. He hit his first ball at three months, competed in his first event at the age of four, and scores about 50 on the shortened nine-hole courses that constitute his "tournament circuit".

Three weekends out of four, he is off competing somewhere, usually on the British Junior Tour. The family have sold their home and set up three businesses to help cover the "extortionate" cost of travel and accommodation. Next year, he is scheduled to play twice in America. The Lee Westwood Golf Academy, open only to children aged seven and over, made an exception for William.

His mother says he plays only as much as he wants to. Not only is she happy throwing a five-year-old into regular competition, it is because he is a five-year-old that she is comfortable with it. As yet, there is no homework for it to interfere with, and he is too young to understand pressure. He picks flowers for her on the way round, and points to the passing rabbits. "A lot of the parents of children who are older tell you to make the most of that year when they haven't got a clue," says Quinn. "He doesn't have nerves. He doesn't understand the enormity of it all. If he has a bad round, he doesn't care, which is great. He can just develop his golf."

Charlie Daughtrey is a veteran by comparison. The red-head from Sheffield won the title for eight-year-olds after a play-off. When his opponent's tee shot was dumped in a greenside bunker, he cleverly played away from the sand, leaving himself with two putts for victory. If his course management was mature, the same could not be said of his celebration, which included a cartwheel down the fairway and a playfight with his mates.

Charlie is a headstrong character who doesn't see obstacles. A pupil at the Pete Cowen Golf Academy, he averages 170 yards off the tee, and knows within five yards how far he hits every club. "If you put 200 balls in front of him, he will not go home until he has hit every one," says his father, Richard, who asks only that he does his best, and if it isn't good enough, never mind.

He also limits Charlie's exposure to competition in the hope that it will make him a better person, and a better golfer in the long run. "I want him to have fun, and if he does that, he will keep his appetite. I don't want him to reach his teens and think, 'I've done it all'. It doesn't matter how good he is at eight years old. It's how much he wants it in his teens. Manchester United sign thousands of eight-year-olds every year, but only one comes out at the top."

Competition doesn't necessarily bring out the best in players, or their parents. At Gullane, there was a right old rumpus after a dad, caddying for his nine-year-old son, reported a breach of the rules by one of their rivals in the final group. To pass time during a hold-up on the 17th tee, the boy had been chipping balls into his father's hands. Told afterwards that the infringement could cost him the European Championship, the "offender" was driven in a buggy to the crime scene, tears streaming down his face. Happily, he won a reprieve, as well as a play-off for the title, but it was a disturbing episode.

Parents talk of the fine line they have to tread. While the pitfalls of living vicariously through their children are well-documented, guardians have a desire, even a responsibility, to make the most of their talent. Cathy and Mike O'Berry spent $5,000 bringing their daughter over from Hoover, Alabama, last week. Nine-year-old Mychael O'Berry finished 12th in her category, but her father, a former baseball coach with Baltimore Orioles, thinks she can do better. "As frustrated as we get sometimes, wondering if it is all worth it, we are gonna give her every chance," he says. "You gotta push. I'm not gonna say I ain't pushed too hard at times. I want her to understand that if we're gonna play, we're gonna play. I'm not gonna say 'it's OK' all the time. I don't see the point in going through the motions, putting up with mediocrity. If we're gonna invest all this time and money into your golf game, we want some effort out of you."

Cathy is a realtor, who has to sell two more houses than usual for a trip like this. The mother also of a 28-year-old, she describes Mychael as their "playtoy", and demands that she focus only on golf. "We don't let her participate in anything else. She doesn't cheer, she doesn't do gymnastics, she doesn't dance. She would like to, but we are a little afraid she might break an arm or a leg."

There are high hopes for all of these children, more than 400 of whom travelled from 38 different countries. There may even be a future Open champion among them. Liverpool's Eloise Healey and Birmingham's Max Martin (both in the 11s), and Fuller in the 9s, repeated their successes in the same event a year ago, while the highest-placed Scot was 12-year-old George Burns, from Renfrew, who was fifth in his category.

But the truth is that most will never come close to fulfilling their dream, in which case there has to be more for their benefit than a bright future. If little William Hill doesn't make it, if he suffers disappointment in the long run, and finds that the sacrifices haven't paid off, his mother insists that he will still have gained more than he has lost.

"They are being instilled with discipline and etiquette," she says. "They are being taught how to dress, how to be calm, how to behave in each other's company. At our local course, there are lads whose parents would be the first to admit that they didn't know what sort of paths their lives were taking. They weren't interested in schooling. But they have turned into lovely young men. And it's all down to golf."