As the eyes of golfers focus on Scotland on the eve of the Open, what do those eyes behold? A world-class row about a golf resort that Donald Trump wants to build among the dunes north of Aberdeen. And a world-famous American-owned golf club that is rumoured to be up for sale in the west of the country.

Those who remember how Tom Weiskopf was nearly sucked to his death when he was designing the golf course at Loch Lomond and those with even longer memories who know how the sullen waters of the loch have swallowed up boatloads of Scots, some marauding, some not, will know that there is an air of dark mystery about the place.

The loch is a place of haunting beauty. If the golf club, also a place of haunting beauty, is sold and were to pass to someone who did not want it to be so exclusive, then the club might attract rather more sympathy among the citizens of the country that claims it gave golf to the world than it does at present.

Trump's proposed venture is set among dunes at Menie, north of Aberdeen. With customary modesty and lack of hyperbole, Trump says it will be one of the best in the world as he and his officials battle to get the venture approved. Accuse me of being an old cynic, but since money talks, I am sure permission will eventually be granted and one or maybe more golf courses will appear among the dunes and hundreds of exclusive houses will appear among the golf holes.

Two words seem relevant here. Why and why? What right does anyone have to despoil such a beautiful stretch of coastline with a golf course? Aren't there enough at present? Don't those who watch birds, who walk, who ride, who feel that countryside that has been untouched for mllennia should remain so, have a right, too? I have for some time now felt uncomfortable at the way that developers rip up acres of the countryside in the cause of providing excellent facilities for those who enjoy golf.

One of the worst things to have happened in golf was a report published in the late 1980s under the auspicies of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews calling for many more new courses to be built. It even suggested that, if a new golf course was built every week from then until the millennium, the demand would still not be met.

Eight years into a new millennium and what has happened? The golf boom has not continued at anything like the rate that report predicted. There is hardly a golf club in Britain or Ireland that would not welcome new members with open arms and the way the economy is going this situation is likely to become even more pronounced in the coming months.

Yet as I write, public money is being spent on a public enquiry into whether a venture by a fabulously rich American who, in my view, only wants to make more money, should be allowed in an area of outstanding beauty.

I declare an interest here. I write about golf for a living. I love the game above all else other than my wife, my children and Wales's victorious games at the Millennium Stadium. To me, links courses are the bees' knees and I hope that my ashes will one day be sprinkled over one such. So it saddens me to say this but I will.

Go home, Donald Trump. Go home.

***

Like anyone with even a passing interest in rugby, I found Gareth Edwards, the great scrum half who was recently voted the best rugby player of the 20th century by L'Equipe, the French sporting daily newspaper, to be an entrancing figure when he was in his pomp. Barrel-chested, spring-heeled and voraciously competitive, Edwards played to a level that few could match. That he did most of it for Wales made it all the more enjoyable for this Welshman.