Caddie's Role: Not many games are a bag of laughs when things are not going your way. But golf, with its solitary nature, can leave you feeling particularly isolated when you find yourself in a bit of a slump. There are no team-mates to cover for lack of form, there are no substitutes to come on when a change is needed; in professional golf you just have to spell the game backwards and flog all the demons out of your game till you get back somewhere close to your level of excellence.

At the upper echelons of the game, you tend to be constantly under the spotlight, so grinding it out in public is what you are going to have to do; there is nowhere to hide - unless you actually withdraw from the event, and that, of course, spells total defeat and makes a comeback even more of a climb.

All golfers have low points, and the so-called "slumps" are relative. An average player loses form and misses the cut. Better players, at their worst, still make cuts because they are used to having to grind out a score; this is what separates the great from the average. When Tiger Woods was in his "slump", he still won tournaments and only once missed a cut.

Good players have to perform to some degree when they are way under their best and would prefer to go back home and slog out their deficiencies in a secluded area at the back of their home range.

Having played in the pro-am of the Scottish Open last Wednesday with some very pleasant bankers who were average golfers, one of them asked me what I thought Retief's chances were of doing well last week. To him, it seemed like the pro was playing great.

But he had performed poorly in the pro-am by his standards. His playing partners did not really recognise how badly Retief was hitting the ball. The odd booming drive, a deft bunker shot and a putt holed here and there can veil the reality of a top golfer off form to a medium handicapped casual golfer.

In banking terms, Retief was in the red without any immediate signs of generating enough capital to get back into the black in the near future.

But top players never give up. Retief went out in four over par on Thursday and came back in four under. After the round, we went straight to the far end of the range (which meant he could hit into the wind) with three buckets of balls.

Retief does not use a coach, he relies on instinct to figure out what is wrong with his swing. To an amateur, and to most mortals, watching someone like Goosen swinging, it seems impossible to comprehend that he could swing the club badly. With his technique and smooth tempo, his swing always looks as fluid and rhythmical as ballet.

But throw in subtle changes in set-up and, as a result, a slightly altered swing path, and a top golfer can quickly be out of sorts.

Retief knows what needs to be done. He is not a habitual ball-slogger. If he is off form he will hit balls for as long as time permits. If he feels comfortable with his swing he will just hit a modest amount of balls to keep ticking over. This is not due to mood or anything else; this practice routine makes common sense for self-preservation.

Over the past few weeks Retief has been spending a long time on the range, constantly searching for the key to take him out of his minor slump.

After the first bucket of balls had been dispatched in the direction of the yellow flag in the middle of the Loch Lomond range, a green Range Rover pulled up beside the practice ground and Darren Clarke's entourage presented themselves beside us in preparation for a lengthy session with their boss, whose arrival was imminent. Despite being on the leaderboard, the man from Dungannon was also struggling with his swing. Again, his position in the tournament was the sign of a top player performing even though his swing was not in the right slot.

All professionals are different. Darren likes to have a group of confidantes about him to absorb some of the stress of this often lonely game. Swing coach Simon Holmes was there, his caddie, Billy Foster, and John Newton, his physio cum comedian, were all offering their opinions on the big man's technique.

Beside him the taciturn Mr Goosen was relying on me, his caddie, and definitely not a swing expert, to tease out any obvious flaws in his set-up.

Retief had a club on the ground to make sure he was aligned correctly.

Darren has a special contraption to help him with his set-up which comprises three white, adjustable sticks joined together. He had a brace for his right arm and a Montecristo number four cigar smouldering away beside him, ready to draw on as he gathered his confused swing thoughts between shots.

If his back tightened, even-bigger John gave big Darren a stretch which lasted the golfer another bucket of balls before he seized up again.

This is the reality of the day-to-day behaviour of top golfers and, I assume, top sports people everywhere: hard graft brings success and success can frequently be a lonely place.

Every day is different in its subtle way, and talent needs to be in harmony regularly with sound technique to provide the desired results.

So when Retief said to me going down the 13th hole at Loch Lomond on Saturday that he was thinking of applying to the South African Cricket Board for a position, he took me by surprise.

I asked him why he would want to do that. He replied (having clocked up a seven on the par four 12th) that anyone who can make a seven off the one ball could be looking at a bright future in the game of cricket and is not suited to golf anymore.

Golf fans may well look at the success of the top players with a certain amount of complacency, but the fact is that a top golfer is trying to prove his worth every time he tees it up and takes nothing for granted.

Only a large dollop of self-belief, combined with obvious talent, pulls great players out of the dark hole of doubt.

Darren Clarke found the secret on the range on Saturday night and ended up finishing second; not bad for a player out of sorts. Retief did not quite find the answer to his problems and hustled around for a low finish at Loch Lomond. The advantages of grinding a modest score out in these circumstances are hard to see. But a player of Retief's stature always comes out of the murky hole of modest golf stronger than he went into it. Retief left me with the parting quip that his pull shot off the tee will work well around St Andrews; sometimes humour is the only way to combat adversity.

Bring on St Andrews.