Nick Dougherty: Dougherty drive fuelled by major dream

Father's influence has pushed 20-year-old to break into European top 50 and become one of British golf's great hopes

It is by Chance rather than symbolic design that the day I meet Nick Dougherty in the Ralph Lauren store in Old Bond Street, where he is being fitted with a variety of outfits for a photo shoot, is also the day on which the Masters is due to begin at the Augusta National. Neither of us yet know that bad weather has caused the first round of the tournament to be postponed.

We only know that he, one of British golf's great hopes, is trying on a variety of snazzy jackets in London when, with due respect to his sponsors, he would rather be in America preparing to do battle for a green one.

"Obviously it's one of my goals, to play in the Masters," he says. "But to have got into the top 50 in the world would have been a tall order for me. I've made the top 50 in Europe [his best finish a second place at last year's Qatar Masters], and if I play great this year I can play at Augusta next year. I will definitely play it eventually. It's one of those you dream of playing, that and the Open. There's something different about those two.

"And watching the Masters is not like watching a normal tournament. It's a golf course where, whenever you think something can't possibly happen, it seems to. Magical things go on there." His first memory of watching the Masters, he adds, is of Nick Faldo beating Scott Hoch in a play-off [in 1989]. Suddenly I feel about 93. Dougherty, by contrast, will be 21 next month. He's a warm, eloquent and impressively self-possessed young man, with the easy charm, dazzling smile and greeny-brown eyes of a matinée idol. Heart-throb material, in other words, which is doubtless what his sponsors are counting on.

On the other hand, the good looks, the modelling, the fast cars and fast living for which he is fast gaining a reputation, make me wonder whether there is a danger of him becoming the Anna Kournikova of men's golf, with a profile way out of kilter with his sporting achievements? He disarms me and my argument with a smile.

"I've somehow got this hell-raiser image, but it's not how it really is. I don't party as much as most 20-year-olds, it's just that when I do, I do it properly. But I only party away from tournaments. Padraig Harrington works harder than me at golf but I don't know anyone else who does. I work my cotton socks off." Ralph Lauren, of course.

"I know I'm marketable, and I'm involved with some first-class companies, but if I couldn't hit a golf ball I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you now." That he can hit a golf ball, nobody doubts. Indeed, in the hitting-a-golf-ball department, it is said that he has more natural ability than his good friend, Justin Rose. So is he not just a mite envious that Rose is on Magnolia Drive while he is in Old Bond Street? "No, Justin's got a bit of time on me, and I'm further along at this stage than he was. Also, I can learn from his mistakes. The whole media thing was hard for him. Because of what happened to him in the Open [in 1998 at Royal Birkdale, where Rose, while still an amateur, finished fourth] the world expected, but his golf game wasn't of a standard to repeat what he had done the week before. He went from the new hero to the new flop.

"Partly from watching Justin, I learnt how to handle the media, and how to deal with hangers on. There's a lot of that, people who are suddenly around you and you don't quite know what they do. I'm very concise with who I want around me. There's Ron Cuthbert, my fitness guy, who's caddying for me at the moment; Pete Cowan, my coach, who I swear by; and my management group, IMG.

"And that's it. I'm not into psychologists and all of that. It's easy to get led astray out there, and there's a new gimmick, a new best thing, every week. Like these dots on the golf ball which supposedly make the ball seem bigger. And there are some really wacky putters around. They all work, so it's easy to have a go with one and say: 'I'll have one of them.' And suddenly you've got another putter, instead of working with what you've already got, week in, week out. I think Justin fell into that a little bit."

Like Rose, Dougherty was knee-high to a Woosnam when he first picked up a golf club. He used to follow his father, Roger, around Bootle Municipal, which in all probability will never host an Open Championship, but was ideal for a kid learning to get the ball airborne. And, like Rose, he soon showed precocious ability, winning an Under-14 competition in Scotland when he was only six.

Recognising the boy's promise, the Doughertys moved house, from Lydiate, near Liverpool, to a house at the entrance of Shaw Hill Golf Club, near Chorley, Lancashire. Roger Dougherty's business career was subjugated by the quest to turn Nick into a professional sportsman. But in any case, he had made his fortune already, in the motor trade and then the nursing-home business.

"The old house in Lydiate was beautiful," Dougherty tells me. "Swimming pool, par three in the back garden, tennis court, stables, indoor cinema, it was a proper house, do you know what I mean?" No, but let's press on. At Shaw Hill, Dougherty was able to hit the golf course as soon as he got home from school [where, incidentally, he collected 12 A-grades at GCSE], often under his father's gimlet eye. "Dad was hard on me. If I did it wrong I was shouted at, if I hit a bad shot I had to go and get it and bring it back. It got to the stage that I didn't hate golf but I associated it with bad things. Dad and I didn't get on. He pushed me so hard."

I don't mention it, but I have heard from a friend who used to see father and son on the practice ground around that time, that Dougherty is not telling the half of it, that the practice ground became a parade ground, with Roger a particularly severe company sergeant-major. Still, Dougherty Snr is able to say that his parenting strategy worked. By 14 his lad was off scratch, and by the time he turned professional at 19, his handicap was plus-four.

He turned professional in August 2001, the day after helping Britain's Walker Cup team to win on American soil. But he still had to go through the rigours of the European Tour qualifying school on the Costa del Sol. "It was," he says, "one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. The hardest thing was the expectation."

On the first day he shot three-under par, on the second, four over. "And then my dad rang me. He's a clever man. He knows how to manipulate me, how to make me tick. He said I should just enjoy the rest of the week, that I had no chance of qualifying. He said: 'You'll be playing the mini-tour next year, if you're lucky.' I said: 'You what?' He said: 'Face it, it's not going to happen.' And the next day I shot eight under, was 13 under for the week and finished third."

So his father, in effect, is his psychologist? "That's what he says. He says: 'Why would you need someone else to tell you what to think? How do they know you that well'?"

However, both men concede that he needs outside help mechanically, if not mentally. Cowan, who has also worked extensively with Darren Clarke, has taught him how to exert more control on his downswing, not least by increasing his upper-body strength.

"If you watch Tiger, you can see how strong he is in the arms. I have this system on my laptop, which enables me to superimpose my swing on others, not to copy but to compare. But you can get too deep into it. For instance, I know that Tiger's knees are bent at 154 degrees, and mine are 151. If I wanted to I could get it the same." The Masters champion, he adds, came along at a fortuitous time for him.

"When I was at school, golf was a sad sport. He's given it a cool image, and brought in some great brands. He's totally revolutionised the game. A few years ago people were saying he would be the next Jack Nicklaus, but he's a lot bigger than Jack Nicklaus. And the really awesome thing about him is there's not one thing he's done, not even the tiniest thing, which you could say he didn't handle well. Michael Jordan was the same. Maybe he's helped Tiger a bit, I don't know. I've already made mistakes, like staying out too late during a tournament last year, but he hasn't. The way he goes about his business is mind-boggling."

Dougherty has yet to play with the great man, but has met him several times. "He has got an aura about him, but not like I thought it would be. He's not big, not a Faldo. Nick towers above me. I was blown away when I met him." Faldo, famously in golf circles, has become a mentor to Dougherty. When Dougherty was 15 he won the Faldo Junior Series at the Forest of Arden, his prize a round with Faldo the following day. Faldo saw enough to invite the youngster down to St George's Hill in Surrey, where they spent five hours, in the pouring rain, working on Dougherty's game.

"Then I went with him to meet Sam Snead, which was amazing. He had this kind of gangster image, but so much character. So dry, so sharp. Nick was working on a book, and I was meant to represent the future, and Snead the past. Nick went there looking for Snead's thoughts on the downswing. You know how technical Nick is? Well, Sam was like: 'Turn your back to the target, turn right through it, and give it a rip.' Nick was like: 'Yeah, but...' and Sam said: 'Just give it a full shoulder turn.' I thought: 'Well, that's going to fill a lot of the book'." Dougherty laughs. "It was brilliant, and maybe good for Nick. Maybe it refreshed him a bit. We're good mates. He's a big kid, to be fair. The guy you see laughing and joking, that's the real Faldo, the one I've always known, anyway. He had that arrogant image, but in the end to be the best you have to be different from the rest, and the rest didn't like that. A lot of what Tiger's given credit for, like fitness, like working with a coach, that's not Tiger, that's Faldo. Tiger's taken it to a new level, but actually the revolution is down to Nick."

Dougherty hopes that Faldo, and Rose, prosper at Augusta. "And I'd love to see [Phil] Mickelson win a major, because he tries really hard but never seems to get the breaks. The luck always seems to go the way of Tiger or Ernie [Els]. I know he makes loads of money, but I feel sorry for the bloke."

And will he feel sorry for himself, if in 20 years time he has not won a major? "Not if I've worked as hard as I can. If I'd done everything, and that wasn't good enough, then I'd be able to live with that. But I do think I'm good enough. I would love to win the Masters, and the Open. In fact, when I dream about golf, the dream I have is handing the Claret Jug to my dad, because in the end, he's the one I have to thank. But more than anything, I would love to be the world No 1, even just for a week."

His next big test is the Volvo PGA Championship at Wentworth next month, he says. Then comes the Open at Royal St George's. "I've got these sponsors, like Ralph Lauren and Callaway and Lloyd's TSB, who are top of their field. Now I have to become top of mine."

Nick Dougherty the life and times

Born: 24 May 1982, Liverpool.

Height: 6ft 1in.

Lives: Chorley, Lancashire.

Club: Shaw Hill, near Chorley.

Hobbies: Learning to fly, supporting Manchester United, playing the flute.

Current world ranking: 196.

Playing career: Aged four, followed his father around Bootle Golf Club course armed with one club.

1988: First victory aged six – an Under-14 tournament at North Berwick course.

1997: Faldo Junior Series winner.

1999: World Junior Champion.

2001: Turned professional. Finished 155th in European Tour Order of Merit, collecting £48,665 in prize money. Best finish was 12th in the Benson & Hedges International Open.

2002: Named European Rookie of the Year after finishing 36th in the Order of Merit, winning £384,000 in prize money. Finished second in Qatar Masters, third in the German Linde Masters and eighth in the Johnnie Walker Classic.

2003: Currently 53rd on Order of Merit. Has earned £48,225 so far this season. Finished 16th in the ANZ Championship in February. Missed cut after successive rounds of 75 and 73 in the Bay Hill Invitational on US professional debut.

Nickname: "Little Nick", coined by Nick Faldo.