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Getting up (early), close and personal makes an Open diehard's day

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Collins 'toughs' it out at Carnoustie (1:44)

Michael Collins goes behind the scenes at Camp Carnoustie, where fans stay during The Open, and shows off the facilities and activities. (1:44)

CARNOUSTIE, Scotland -- There is no sport more suited to being viewed from the comfort of your own sofa than golf. And there is no tournament for which that rule is truer than The Open.

Television offers the passive viewer multiple channels, uninterrupted access to social media and the opportunity to make a cup of tea. Walking the course requires a hiker's stamina to climb dunes, expensive waterproofs to repel the inevitable seaside rain and the patience of the Dalai Lama to deal with the frustrations of just trying to see the ball.

For 99 percent of fans it is a no-brainer.

Meet the other 1 percent. The Open diehards. The fans for whom the first tee at 6:35 a.m., where 1985 champion Sandy Lyle would hit the opening shot of the 2018 championship, is the best moment of the week. The folk who view the inconveniences as justification for setting a 4:30 a.m. alarm call rather than a reason to stay at home.

Consider Nathan Evans, 31, from Southampton: He took the National Express coach yesterday from his home city on the south coast of England to Aberdeen, 60 miles north of Carnoustie, an epic 16-hour, 580-mile effort. He then travelled down from Aberdeen to the course, allowing him to walk the first hole as the sun broke through the clouds.

"This is my second opening tee shot in two years," he said. "I did it last year at Royal Birkdale. We stood there in the wind and the rain. Never saw Mark O'Meara's drive or those of his playing partners. The sky was slate grey. Didn't really see any ball till they reached the green. This year is glorious in contrast."

It was true. The clouds cleared and balls soared into a blue sky. The many faces which turned to watch them rise could trace their path with little difficulty, but many are alive to the frequent absurdity of their task and it takes little encouragement for the tales to flow which illustrate the humor inherent in being part of the galleries.

"I remember watching the action at Royal St. Georges in 2011," said Andrew Cruise, 50, from Worcestershire, who has been making an annual Open trip since the 1980s.

"Well, I say I was watching. In truth it was raining and there were thousands of people there. What I actually saw was the back of someone's umbrella and it occurred to me that even had he not been there, we were all waiting for a player to hit from a deep pot bunker to a green below the level of the lip.

"So in reality I was stood behind a brolly, to support a player I wouldn't have been able to see anyway, waiting for a splash of sand followed by the reaction of the galleries on the other side of the green. When they started clapping, we joined in.

"We looked at each other thinking 'we've paid a lot of money, and spent quite a lot of time, waiting to clap for something we haven't actually seen.'"

Hearing this tale, the golf fan with the TV remote control in his hand would shake his head slowly and wonder about the sanity of his fellow man. Cruise merely smiled and said: "It's still one of the best days of golf I've seen."

Dave Williams from Surrey has been attending the Open for nearly 30 years, and last year he introduced a friend to the experience at Royal Birkdale.

"My mate watches football, rugby, cricket and he attended every day of the London Olympics," he said. "But he'd never seen golf live. It was the glaring gap in his sporting CV.

"I'd told him all about the glory of links golf and insisted we watch from the back of the 10th green, explaining how we would see three or four holes from up there.

"The problem was that thousands of others had the same idea. So we were perched on top of a dune, clinging to it really and I couldn't help feel like we looked like the survivors in a natural disaster seeking high ground. We couldn't see anything but the back of other people's heads.

"I left in the afternoon and I got the impression my friend wasn't too impressed, but two hours later he texted. He'd twice had balls land near him and both times been stood next to the golfer as he hit from the rough. One of them was Phil Mickelson. The thrill of it had made his day. That's what it's all about. It makes the miles we walk worthwhile."

At which point a drive from Andy Sullivan bounded into the rough. Williams nodded and rushed over to it, ready to experience that thrill again.

The weather is set fair for Thursday, but forecast to be wet on Friday morning. For some that will be reason to delay arrival on the course. Not for these fans. Tiger Woods still shudders when recalling the terrible weather on the Saturday at Muirfield in 2002, however Cruise remembers that day very differently.

"The temperature dropped, the wind got up, the rain pelted down and the crowds left the course," he said, before adding with a smile: "We had the field to ourselves."

Nothing stops the diehards from getting their golf fix.