I covered my first Canadian Open in 1979 and, I'm glad to say, some of the same faces are still around these days.

I was sitting in the clubhouse with a couple of other people during a weather delay when an elderly man came towards the door, stooping to pick up an empty ice-cream container. Dressed in a golf shirt and slacks, he came to the table, looked at us, glanced at the trash in his hand and said, "I certainly hope one of you didn't drop this out there."

Judging from his glare, we certainly were lucky we hadn't because, at 85, Dick Grimm is still a force to be reckoned with. He was called Mr. Canadian Open during his tenure from 1965 through 1993 and, it can be argued, there would be no Glen Abbey unless for him.

I wrote an article about the origins of the course for Golf Canada and the official program. In it, I describe Grimm as he stands with course designer Jack Nicklaus back in 1976, the year the Abbey opened, as wearing "stylish Sansabelt slacks." It was a tongue-in-cheek comment, as Sansabelts were an ill-conceived and, thankfully, short-lived golf fashion phenomenon.

As Grimm sat down at our table that day last week, the first thing he said to me was: "See, no Sansabelts."

He had already read the program magazine cover to cover. He was picking up trash, casting a keen eye over the hospitality arrangements, saying hi to the literally hundreds of people who recognized him during tournament week.

"This is still Dick Grimm's golf course," I said as he left. Of course, there was never any doubt in his mind.

The line of the week came from another old-timer who was standing under the canopy of the media-room tent. One second we were admiring the sunshine, the next the skies had opened and lightning was in the air. It was yet another indication that the wrath of God was being visited upon Glen Abbey.

He looked heavenward, raised his hands with palms upturned, and asked: "What's next? Locusts?"

While Chez Reavie won the Open and good for him, the tournament MVP award should go to Scott Bowman who became Glen Abbey's superintendent in March after working at nearby Greystone. He and his army of workers kept the tournament going and the fact that it ended right on schedule is because Bowman and his staff worked their butts off around the clock.

If there's anything I hate more than people asking, "Who's going to win this week?" (I don't know. Why don't you try picking the winner of a 156-horse race?), it's the knuckleheads who knock Glen Abbey without a clue of what they're talking about.

"Oh, the pros don't like Glen Abbey. That's why they can't get the good players."

Crap. Tom Watson may have said that 20 years ago, and Jim Furyk said this week that it's not his favourite, but so what?

Anthony Kim, Reavie, Scott McCarron and others said this week it was a terrific layout. In 2004, Vijay Singh said they could play the Presidents Cup there.

"It's a bomber's course."

If that's true, then why was Weir in the playoff with Singh in 2004 and why did Reavie win yesterday? How did Billy Andrade win or David Frost or Wayne Levi or Bob Murphy?

In 30 years, as a golf writer and while working for the RCGA, I've played Glen Abbey scores of times. I can tell you it's a terrific layout that just keeps getting better.

(Next year marks the 100th playing of the Open and the 25th time it's been played at the Abbey.)

Finally, I'm standing by the ninth green yesterday and a spectator points at a player in the fairway and says, "That's Jim Furyk."

"Pardon me," I said. "I don't mean to interrupt, but that's not Jim Furyk. It's Eric Axley."

"No, it's not. It's Furyk," I was told in no uncertain terms. I walked away.

I guess it could have been Furyk, if he hadn't lost the distinctive big loop in his swing, or had changed sponsors, or had re-grown a full head of hair in two hours or had switched to left-handed clubs midway through his round.

See? I'm right some of the time. Just don't ask me who's going to win this week.

(For the record, I picked Jeff Quinney to break through. He tied for 64th.)