Tiger Woods puts on happy face before snapping at British foes

Tiger Woods is in the major mood once more. He casts his eye down the roster of Open champions here and sees players of only the finest vintage. Seve Ballesteros, Tom Lehman, David Duval, all prevailed in this fabled corner of the Fylde peninsula and all, at one stage in their garlanded careers, held the world No?1 spot that Woods has since monopolised. Small wonder that he embarks on Thursday on his pursuit of a fourth Claret Jug with an eye trained firmly on joining their number.

Denying that he felt the slightest anxiety over a four-year wait for his 15th major triumph, dating back to the 2008 US Open, Woods said: "If I put myself there enough times, then I'll win major championships."

The 36 year-old, who could wrest back the No?1 ranking with victory on Sunday, argued that his title drought was the result of knee and Achilles injuries and that he was ready to reclaim the grandest stage. "I had to go through the process of getting healthy again. Being banged up and missing majors because I was injured wasn't a whole lot of fun. If I'm healthy, I can prepare properly for majors and get myself there."

For Woods appreciates the tapestry of history into which he could yet thread his name. As one reporter regaled him with the details of Ballesteros's final-round 65 to vanquish Nick Price in 1988, he promptly interrupted to finish the story. "That was a fantastic round, he was making putt after putt. Seve just topped him. Those are fun days - I've experienced those." The trouble is that nobody knows if tomorrow heralds four of Woods's fun or frightful days. His form this season is fiendishly hard to fathom: three wins, but also two missed cuts and a clutch of missed opportunities that he must erase if he wishes to close the gap to Jack Nicklaus's 18 majors.

At a loss to explain his recent fluctuations, which veered this past month from a 74th PGA Tour win at the AT&T National to being cut at the Greenbrier Classic the very next week, Woods said, "If I knew the answer, I would tell you. I'm just trying to be more consistent."

But there was a sense that he believed Royal Lytham suited his eye, that he felt it rewarded the invention and creativity that he has displayed to such devastating effect at Opens past. Few who witnessed it could ever forget Woods's mesmeric taming of Hoylake in 2006, when he propelled four-irons in excess of 300 yards down scorched-earth fairways, proving that he could eclipse an Open field by virtue of sheer imagination.

Woods likes what he sees at Royal Lytham, littered as it is with 206 bunkers and - courtesy of its quirky par-three opening hole - placing a premium on accuracy "right out of the gate". He explained: "Shot-making creativity is paramount when you play a links. You have so many different options, and a five-degree wind change transforms an entire course. Lytham is one of the more difficult ones that we play. It's more confined, and it tests us a lot, because we have to shape the ball both ways. It challenges your ability to hit shots the proper distances."

Woods pores over the vicissitudes of a links with the precision of an astronomer studying the moons of Neptune. Plus, his infatuation with Lytham is well established, ever since he won the Silver Medal as leading amateur on his Open debut in 1996, equalling the low-scoring record. The experience, he disclosed, was so instructive that it influenced his decision to leave Stanford University and turn professional.

"I got hot in that second round," he recalled. "I made seven birdies in an 11-hole stretch and posted 66. At the time I equalled Ian Pyman's record and I thought that was a pretty great accomplishment. That year, the Open pushed towards turning pro versus going back to college. It gave me so much confidence that I could do it at a high level, that I could shoot those scores and play against the top players on a very difficult track. And later that summer I ended up winning the US Amateur."

By Woods's notoriously inscrutable standards on these occasions, he was on insightful, illuminating form. He ranged across an eclectic assortment of subjects, including his ambition of representing the US at the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. "I hope I can qualify," Woods smiled, with unusual self-effacement. "I'll be 40 by then." But there were still traces of his more awkward, evasive self, as illustrated by a couple of staccato exchanges. Asked if he was at the start, middle or end of the process of remodelling his swing, Woods replied, "Somewhere."

Pressed on whether he was surprised to be on the cusp of becoming world No 1 again, he shot back, "No. That help you?" Mark Steinberg, his agent, looked on anxiously, as if dreading the next line of inquiry from the British press corps whom Woods so despises. Confrontation was avoided, though, as golf's fallen idol prepared for the week's more defining test. Nothing less than his restoration at the summit would suffice.