When it comes to new technology, your correspondent tends to have a bumbling habit of embracing the latest advances and innovations with the kind of excruciating awkwardness not seen since Captain Hook embarked on a spectacularly ill-advised experimentation with contact lenses.

In many ways, it’s almost a daily miracle that I manage to start up the laptop without some form of calamitous industrial incident. “Perhaps I could give up fancy inventions for Lent?” I pondered out loud. “Perhaps it would be better if you gave up the Tuesday column for 40 days?” muttered the sports editor with a grumbling sense of wishful purpose. Funnily enough, his suggestion seemed to attract such a surge in backing there’s now a bloke from the Gambling Commission snooping around the office and looking into suspiciously irregular betting habits.

As far as golf is concerned, there is plenty of smart money being flung on form horse Dustin Johnson as the build up to the Masters hurtles along. It’s hardly a surprise. The 32-year-old’s victory in the WGC Mexico Championship was his second success in a row and kept him firmly tethered to the top of the world rankings. Johnson has been born again since finally capturing his first major in last season’s US Open and this latest run of form simply underlines his redemption.

It wasn’t that long ago, of course, that many were wondering if Johnson’s potential would ever be fully realised as he locked himself away in a self-imposed exile and sought “professional help for personal challenges I have faced.” There were tales of failed drugs tests, suspensions, affairs with the wives of other PGA Tour players and the kind of gung-ho approach to partying and extra-curricular activities that would have made a touring rock band look like a gathering of representatives from the Temperance movement.

Having elevated himself to the top of the global order for the first time in his career with victory in the Genesis Open a couple of weeks ago, Johnson clearly has a head for heights and looks utterly at ease in the rarefied air. He became only the fifth player, after Ian Woosnam, David Duval, Vijay Singh and Adam Scott, to win their first event since become the No 1.

Leading from the front is never easy. Clambering your way to the top of golf’s metaphorical mountain is the ultimate reward for conquest and consistency but staying there can leave you out of puff and in an anguish-laden lather. It seems you need more than breathing apparatus and a few hearty slabs of Kendal mint cake to deal with this giddy peak. Jason Day, the Australian who had occupied the world No 1 spot for 47 weeks until Johnson dunted him off his perch, talked at length about the strains and pressures that come with being the man to catch.

“I’ve never been more stressed in my life than right now,” he once said. “It’s just because being No. 1 in the world, having a lot of expectations on you, having to practice so hard to keep that No. 1 spot, trying to win as many tournaments as I can puts a lot of stress and pressure on your shoulders.”

It appears even old Atlas would be creaking and groaning under the weight of various expectations and demands. Johnson, who has won four times, finished second twice and has a brace of thirds in the 16 events he has played since winning last year’s US Open, is well aware that his lofty position brings its burdens. But, given that he tends to adopt the casual, laid back air of a jazz quartet meandering through a few smoky, late night arrangements, his nonchalant, shrugging demeanour will no doubt help him deal with all the scrutiny, attention and pressures as the campaign unfolds. Power, touch and temperament? It’s a profitable trinity of golfing attributes.

Johnson certainly enjoyed the high life during those wayward years off the course. Now he’s enjoying the high life on it too.

AND ANOTHER THING

Golf has never been an exact science. In my case, it’s more a reckless experiment. Among the many welcome proposals for changes to the rules of golf last week, the possibility of giving broad allowance to Distance Measuring Devices (DMDs) was not one of them. Judgement and feel is all part of the game’s alluring austerity, not gadgetry. It can be a common scene. Player walks up to the ball, trudges over to a yardage marker, comes back to the ball, rummages around for a DMD, takes a measurement, puts DMD away, leafs through a yardage book and paces out the yardage before finally addressing the ball. The end result of this meticulous preparation? A 7-iron straight into the bunker. Being something of a crusty luddite, DMDs are just another addition to golf’s plootering paraphernalia.