IT WAS like a scene from Monty Python’s Life of Brian. One minute Tiger Woods was basking in the peace of an empty course on a fine summer’s morning, the next he was surrounded by the hordes, many calling his name, all craning their necks to catch a look at the Chosen One.

For most, 6.45 on a Sunday morning would be regarded as an ungodly hour to play golf. For Woods, the early start is part of his routine at Open Championships — a chance to get in some practice before the rest of the world, and most of his peers, begin to stir.

It has worked well for the world No 1 over the years and it is impossible to imagine him changing his ways now. And it was business as usual for Woods yesterday when he set off in the company of Rod Pampling, of Australia, for an early round at Royal Liverpool — most often referred to as Hoylake — and his first full look at a course that last hosted the Open 39 years ago.

There is rarely much humour surrounding a Woods round. He has perfected the eyes-front stare and, like the Big Cat that he is, any interaction with those around him is strictly on his terms.

Yet even he might have seen the funny side when he emerged from the isolation of a Portaloo between the 14th green and 15th tee yesterday to be faced with a couple of hundred heads all turned in his direction, most with arms outstretched and pointing cameras and mobile phones in his direction.

It was around the 14th hole that the peace had finally been shattered. With the gates closed to spectators early on, Woods and Pampling had the course to themselves and, although a select few had managed to get alongside, the majority of noise came only from the birds. Quiet though it was, it would have taken Colin Montgomerie-type hearing to have picked up the young boy explaining to a friend on his mobile phone that he was “walking with Thingy”. It is safe to assume that he was not referring to Pampling.

There is a sense that if the wind does not blow, then Hoylake could be a little defenceless this week. Ian Woosnam, for one, has suggested that Woods could “eat the course for breakfast”, but it is still going to require a good deal of accuracy off the tees to succeed.

At St Andrews, scene of his two Open victories, Woods could take liberties on many of the par-fours, blasting away safe in the knowledge that if he did not reach the green in one, then he was unlikely to find too much trouble.

Here the fairways are bone-hard, tight and bordered on both sides by deep, although by no means impossible, rough. But if we are to read anything into his practice round, then we can expect Woods to use irons off the tee for many of the holes and play for position. Yesterday, he can best be described as tiptoeing his way around, marking his territory and planning his assault.

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On the outward nine, he missed the fairway at the 5th and 7th holes and came up short on the par-three 6th. But by the time he had reached the turn, his game was falling nicely into place. He used a driver on the par-five 10th as well as the final three holes and did not miss a fairway until the 18th — his first attempt going horribly to the right, his second horribly to the left.

It was on and around the greens where Woods did most of his work, however, putting single-handed as a way of getting the ball rolling smoothly.He also practised hitting shots into the steep banks around the greens as a way of stunning the ball and placed balls up against the rough, trying to get them to bump and run from there.

The preparation was both meticulous and low-key, perfect for the challenges of links golf, and should put him ahead of those who, at the same time, were playing in the Scottish Open at Loch Lomond’s parkland course. Phil Mickelson, though, was also to be found at Hoylake.

Eschewing the opportunity to test himself out of the rough and some of the wicked bunkers, Woods could not, however, resist the challenge of a greenside bunker at the 10th, which is deep and has a vertical wall.

With the top of the bunker at about head height and with the ball no more than three feet from its face, Wood’s first attempt smacked into its side and rolled back to his feet. The lesson learnt, he proceeded to hit the next two shots to within a couple of feet of the hole and walked off laughing. Those shots alone would have been worth an entrance fee.

When the round came to a close, the camp followers had grown from around 20 people to several thousand; an early-morning stroll in good company had become a good walk spoilt and gave the perfect insight into life as Tiger Woods.

Afterwards, though, he spent time signing autographs, without ever once looking up, and then had 45 minutes on the putting green with Hank Haney, his coach. In one routine, he rolled in 40 putts in succession from five feet and then tested himself from greater distance, bizarrely drawing applause for one from around 25 feet. So desperate are people to see him doing great things that they will cheer the ordinary.

Yet as king of all he surveys, it is little wonder that Woods is treated in such a fashion. As with royalty, when it was time to go, he was off — round to the front of the clubhouse and into his getaway car without so much as a word. Work was done; it was time for a rest.