By Frank Malley, PA Chief Sports Writer

They screamed and they hollered. They urged on Colin Montgomerie from the depth of their lungs and, it seemed, with all their hearts.

But in the end not even the Bondi-sized wave of affection - yes, genuine affection for golf's Mr Grumpy - which surged around the fairways of Royal Lytham & St Annes could bring the nearly man of golf the major title he craved.

So near, but so far - it could almost be the epitaph of the man who has carried the millstone of being "the best golfer never to win a major" for more than a decade.

The harsh truth is that for all Montgomerie's ramrod straight driving, for all his towering irons and deft bunker shots he has consistently failed to raise his game that extra notch when the need was greatest and the weight of expectation heaviest.

Timing in sport is everything and it seems the undeniable talents of Montgomerie, seven-times winner of the European Order of Merit and the most consistent European golfer of his generation, are destined to remain unfulfilled.

At 38, despite Montgomerie's protestations that he has another five years at the top level in him and the prediction of Tiger Woods that he is "too talented not to win a major", there will be few more or better opportunities to lift the big one.

"I didn't putt very well," admitted Montgomerie, who finished with a disappointing one over par 72, for a combined total of 280 which left him back among the also-rans at four under par for the tournament.

"I missed a putt for a birdie on Friday evening and the writing was on the wall then. I never felt comfortable with the putter after that."

At least Mongomerie, who had led the Open for two rounds and was just one shot adrift at the start of the final day, did not make us suffer for long.

He had got off to a shaky start on the two previous days and again his tee shot on the first flirted with the left-hand greenside bunker.

No matter, he walked up to an ovation which was at least equal to the one the champion was to receive five hours later and struck two solid putts for his par.

We hoped and prayed his putter would enjoy the blessed day which had seen him record a 65 on the first day, but for the next hour it seemed no-one up there in the heavens above Lytham's sun-baked fairways was listening.

At the 438-yards par four second he squandered a birdie chance, leaving a tentative 10-foot putt short.

But it was at the third that the first inkling arrived that it wasn't going to be Monty's day.

"C'mon Monty", the gallery shrieked and he responded by stroking his putt from 30 feet five feet past the hole - the inevitable surge of adrenaline proving a destructive influence.

The return putt also missed, the first bogey of the day stood out on the Monty scorecard like a scar on a pretty girl's face - and Monty's own expression was increasingly downcast.

Another makeable putt slipped by on the next and when his tee shot at the par three fifth rolled up against the back bank of the greenside bunker, resulting in a second bogey, it looked as if the Montgomerie challenge was spent.

Oh how the torment must have torn at the pit of his stomach as little explosions of excitement rippled around this Lancashire coastline, signalling sublime deeds at points near and distant, everywhere it seemed apart from the world of the burly Scot.

He did manage to birdie the two par fives on the front nine to get back to five under for the day and resurrect hopes of an unlikely renaissance - but the putting muse again deserted him as the back nine began.

Not that he could be faulted for aggression.

He rattled a 30-foot putt by the hole at the 10th as he sought the birdies he needed with increasing desperation.

Unfortunately, he missed the return six-footer and suddenly a possible birdie was a debilitating bogey.

A four-footer, again for birdie, ran by at the 11th and, for almost the first time in a week in which his demeanour has been as calm as the benign weather, the thunder clouds gathered on the Monty brow.

He gave the erring putter a look which said it was lucky not to take a javelin-style journey into the nearest briny.

It has happened too often, however, to be put down to coincidence.

So far he has had one near miss in the USPGA Championship - finishing on the wrong side of a play-off with Steve Elkington in 1995 - and as many as three close shaves in the US Open.

Third in 1992, he finished joint second in 1994 when he and Loren Roberts lost in a play-off to Ernie Els, his playing partner today.

Four years ago he finished a shot behind Els, saying: "This major business is getting me down."

Last month at the Southern Hills Country Club in Tulsa he finished with rounds of 77 and 74 in the US Open to trail in 61st - his worst finish in 10 appearances at his favourite tournament.

A birdie at 13 briefly enlivened hopes but again at 14 there was the agony of a five-foot birdie putt refusing to drop.

The 15th brought another bogey and the Monty demeanour, slumped shoulders and exaggerated sighs, suggested he was at last resigned to his fate.

He took off his jumper, an act contrary to his superstitious nature once he has begun a round, and promptly holed a bunker shot at the 17th to save par.

And if it was too little, too late, then at least it brought a rueful smile.

This day Monty had to laugh. If he hadn't he surely would have cried.