I arrived in Dubai absolutely shattered after my exploits in Qatar, and myself and The Jockey checked into the Mina Al Salem Hotel at the Madinat Jumeirah. I think this was up to The Jockey's standards, although he did mention that my room seemed to face the sea, whilst his only looked over the Burj Al Arab Hotel (the world's most stunning hotel). In any case, a good night's rest was had and on Monday we made our way to the Emirates Golf Club to take part in a photo shoot for Golf Monthly, which I am guest editor of this month.

The magazines like to get as many shoots as possible done in Dubai, as they count on the weather being sunny all day. However, global warming seems to be having the exact opposite effect at the moment, with rain and cloud being almost common place these last three weeks. Still, we got our shoot done in good time. Look out for the March issue of Golf Monthly (out now) where I impart my wisdom on the golfing public.

Sony (Clive Tucker, my coach - so named by me because, like Sony who has years of technology up its sleeve but makes you buy up each new system before moving on to the next, he slowly conveys his golfing knowledge upon me and waits until I think I've got it mastered before giving me another skill to work on) was still in town so on Tuesday morning we had a good look at my chipping and pitching action, and after much discussion we seemed to hit on why I have been striking my chips so poorly. One more new thing to incorporate into my game, but on the upside it does seem to be vastly improved.

Tuesday afternoon was spent competing in a nine hole exhibition match on the par three course, in the company of Jeev Milka Singh, Monty and Henrik Stenson. Fourball better ball was the format, with all birdies raising money for local charities. 

Last year I partnered Monty in the same event under a greensomes format. We managed to shoot an embarrassing seven over par, taking seven on the seventh hole I seem to remember. I have blamed him for that debacle for the last year, and felt sure that my accusations would be proved correct this year, expecting him to again finish last with partner Henrik. Imagine my shock when Henrik hit a hole in one at the last with a nine iron for them to win by two shots, with myself and Jeev six behind. Conclusion made at least, it must have been The Jockey's fault.

Wednesday was Pro-Am day, and this week I was teamed with Jonathon and Justin, who work for CNN, and Dave who came in as a last minute replacement. Justin had a practice swing that made him look a dead cert to strike the ball straight down the middle. Note the words 'practice swing' in that sentence won't you; the reality was far from this. In fact, military golf was the order of the day for him - left, right, left, right - and so I set to work on curing this affliction. I did manage to change the pattern, Justin's' next four shots - right, right, right, right. Still, Justin is an Aussie so we did what any three English lads would have done and laughed at him all day long.

My company for the first two days of the tournament was Ian Poulter and Martin Kaymer, who eventually finished second with a birdie, birdie, eagle finish. It was Poults who took the headlines early in the week though by taking his clothes off for a magazine shoot, with his modesty being obscured only by a golf bag. Golf monthly had suggested this to me a while back, but it became apparent that this wouldn't be feasible when we found out that Cleveland, my own club manufacturer, did not make a bag big enough.

So onto the golf: Thursday - best round of golf I have played for eighteen months I reckon. Only a 68 but it could have been four better had my putter not been a tad cold. Friday it blew a hooly and I didn't cope nearly as well as I should have, finishing with 75. Putting was the main culprit again. Isn't it strange how when one thing seems to improve, something else inevitably lets you down? When you start playing golf you assume that, as you get better, this will change. I'm afraid it doesn't change so best get your head around it now everybody. This game we love is, and always will be, the most annoying game in the world. But I guess that's why I love it at the end of the day.

In the end, I finished 44th, not what I wanted at all after Qatar. In retrospect, I didn't drive the ball nearly well enough. In fact, Wild Bill emerged at times, which was surprising after playing so nicely on Thursday. However, another cut made which is never to be sneezed at, and had I putted normally for me it could have been a lot better. That being said, coulda, shoulda, woulda is the worst mindset ever for a golfer, so 44th it was. If I'm being honest, I just didn't play well enough last week to challenge in any way.

Not much to say about The Jockey last week, except to flag up his gallant effort at imparting his wisdom on the 72nd hole. The Jockey was convinced it was impossible for me to reach the green with my second shot of the par five, which is perched just over a water hazard. 238 yards to the front, 15 mile an hour winds, one over for the tournament, nothing to lose and, to be honest, not all that much to gain apart from professional pride, a few quid, maybe some world ranking points, and entertaining the sprinkling of spectators watching from the grandstand.

The Jockey stood in front of the ball for a good two minutes, refusing to let me pull the three wood out of the bag and refusing to get out of the way if I was intent on wasting a shot by hitting it into the lake. Saying I cannot reach is like a red rag to a bull, so I pulled out the three wood, told him in no uncertain terms to get out of my way, hit the thing as hard as I could and watched in delight as it soared through the air, landed safely 36 inches over the water and trickled onto the green thirty feet from the pin. I then gently threw the three wood 15 yards back down the fairway so that The Jockey would have to go and fetch it (kind of his punishment for being wrong and doubting my ability).

Sometimes you have to remember that this is just a game, and it's supposed to be fun, and sometimes, even though the odds are against you, the challenge just has to be taken on. That's why caddying is such a hard job. Had I hit it in the water, I would have been fuming that he had let me hit such a stupid shot. But I didn't, and consequently The Jockey had his first dessert of the New Year - a nice serving of humble pie.

In the end, Tiger played a magical back nine holes on Sunday, including a 40 foot birdie putt on the last to win by one. He truly is an amazing golfer, his ability to win from seemingly impossible positions is quite remarkable.

Two final things to note: firstly Sony may sound like a really harsh nickname for Clive, who has helped me so much over the last few years, but it is, as always, meant in jest. Secondly, snooker is by far the most annoying game in the world. I love that too though. I guess I must be a glutton for punishment.