The greatest Open ever?
Mention the words Open Championship and I drift off to a scene of brilliant blue skies, sun-scorched fairways, rolling sand dunes, the whiff of the sea, and Rupert the Bear trousers the first time around.
In my mind's eye, the Open is like those memories of childhood summer holidays - perfect weather, permanent excitement and ice creams on tap.
It's not always like that, of course, and the last two years have been especially inclement at times with roaring winds and lashing rain.
There's one Open in particular I'm thinking of, and it just happens to be one of the most iconic Opens ever played.
I am, of course, talking about the 1977 classic, dubbed "the Duel in the Sun", held at Turnberry, venue for this week's 138th Open Championship.
(Not that I saw it at the time - I was only five - but it's since seeped into my sub-conscious).
Nicklaus, the great Golden Bear, the 14-time major champion. Watson, 10 years his junior at 27, but a former Open winner and the reigning
"It was dry, sunny and the course was fast and running," recalled BBC golf commentator Ken Brown, who was playing in his second Open as a 20-year-old.
"Everything was parched but the greens were little emerald patches at the end of the fairway."
Nicklaus and Watson were locked together at the top of the leaderboard going into the final round after posting identical rounds of 68, 70 and 65 to lead Ben Crenshaw by three shots.
"You got the feeling there was something special happening as the third round came to an end," BBC commentator Peter Alliss told me from Loch Lomond last week.
"There was huge anticipation of the last day's play. Could they keep going at this tremendous level? The scoring was quite remarkable."
On a sun-baked Sunday, Nicklaus quickly went three shots clear but Watson hung on and was a shot behind after seven as the field was left trailing in their wake.
"I remember how hot and dusty it was," said Nicklaus later. "The crowds were enormous. It was like walking down the 18th hole - where the fans run ahead to get to their next vantage point - on every hole."
Most of the fans were by now following the last group and with excitement mounting, the pair were forced to wait on the 14th tee for the throng to clear. Watson turned to Nicklaus and said: "This is what it's all about isn't it?"
"Sure is," replied Nicklaus.
Still one down after 14, Watson dragged a four iron left on the par-three 15th, leaving a 60ft downhill putt. Miraculously, he made it, while Nicklaus carded a solid par. Level again with three to play.
"I had played my four rounds and finished somewhere in the 30s and I drove home listening to it on radio," said Brown. "I just couldn't believe how it was unfolding."
After exchanging pars on the 16th, Watson was first with his second shot to the long 17th and hit a three-iron to 25ft. Nicklaus came up just short.
"What tension. You can feel it sizzling in the air like electricity," said Alliss on commentary at the time. (This was 1977!).
Nicklaus pitched to five feet. Watson hit his putt stone dead. Nicklaus missed. Watson birdied. One ahead.
Watson opted for an iron off the 18th tee and split the fairway. Nicklaus reached for a wood.
"He's going to powder this one with all he's got," whispered Alliss into his microphone.
But Nicklaus drove his ball perilously close to a gorse bush in the right rough.
Out on the fairway, Watson caressed a seven iron into the heart of the green, just a few feet from the pin.
"Elementary, my dear Watson," chuckled Alliss on TV.
Nicklaus blasted his out to the front edge, 35ft away, and then set off up the fairway, dodging the crowds. Watson's caddie Alf Fyles was knocked over in the stampede, but picking himself up he said: "We've got him now mister."
"Not now, not now Alf, he's going to make it," recalled Watson later.
Nicklaus stalked his putt from all angles and then, with that familiar hunched putting style, sent the ball on its way.
"It couldn't, could it?" said Alliss. "Oh, what about that then." The ball dropped and the crowd roared in jubilation.
Nicklaus helped quieten the dim, but Watson calmly stroked in his putt to win by one and claim the second of his five Open titles.
Walking off the green, Nicklaus placed his arm around his countryman's shoulder.
"He said, 'I gave it my best shot and it wasn't good enough'," Watson recalled later. "That was a special moment in my life."
Alliss told me: "They were gladiators, tremendous adversaries, but they appreciated each other's play. They were tough as old boots but they were courteous."
Watson finished 11 strokes clear of third-placed man Hubert Green, who said afterwards: "I won the tournament I was playing in."
Brown added: "It was just electrifying stuff. I shot down the A74; two hours flew by in no time at all. It was like I was in a different world.
"I enjoyed listening on the radio so much that I thought, 'when I stop playing that's what I'd like to do'.
"It was just the cut and thrust of two of the greatest golfers and best sportsmen in the game going at it head-to-head, full tilt, both at the top of their games. It was something very, very special, particularly on an arena like Turnberry."
The 18th on the Ailsa course, originally called "Ailsa Hame", was renamed "Duel in the Sun" in 2003 to commemorate the epic battle.
Were you there, or did you watch on telly at the time? If so, what are your memories of the tournament?
Or do you have a suggestion for an alternative greatest Open ever?
Incidentally, in a later BBC TV feature, Watson is looking around the Turnberry clubhouse with Steve Rider. Seeing a picture of himself on the wall, Watson says, "Those trousers will come back one day, like white ties."
Well, I'm not sure about the ties, but judging by the threads of Poulter, McIlroy, Daly et al, I'd say the Rupert strides are most definitely back.
And one other thing. Then, like now, England and Australia were locked in an Ashes battle.
So is there any significance in the fact that someone with the initials TW won that week at Turnberry 32 years ago?