The celeb in question documented her morning ritual and informed us that, “I sit outside on my windowsill to get natural light in my eyes. I observe the trees and the birds, do breathwork, meditation and a Sanskrit chant.”

Now, I know you’re probably thinking that this is exactly the kind of healthy, stimulating process that your correspondent embarks on before winkling out another Tuesday prize winner.

No, you’re not thinking that at all, are you? I mean it would be ridiculous. Imagine me creaking into a lotus pose and trying to foster self-belief and align myself with positive energy through a Sanskrit flippin’ chant?

I’d get through a couple of Ananda Hums before my affirming recital would rapidly descend into the glum-faced defeatism of a grumbling Les Dawson soliloquy. And then I’d tweak my groin untangling myself from the lotus position.

So, let’s crack on shall we? Once this scribe had stopped reading about an excruciatingly smug celebrity Saturday, my attention was drawn to a press release that dropped from the DP World Tour.

It concerned LIV golfers – yes, that lot again – and how the tour will permit releases to members who wish to play on the Saudi-backed breakaway league provided they first settle their outstanding fines, drop their legal appeals and agree to one or two more stipulations.

Tyrrell Hatton was among several LIV players who accepted the deal and, as a result, will be available for next year’s European Ryder Cup team.

But Jon Rahm, who has forged a potent, profitable partnership with Hatton in the biennial tussle, has dug the heels in.

The Spaniard, a two-time major winner, had refused to agree to the DP World Tour’s terms and conditions, which also include a demand to play in more events on the circuit than the usual bare minimum of four while participating in associated media activity and promotion.

Rahm is the only eligible LIV player to turn down the peace offering from the Wentworth high command.

The mechanics of this LIV and DP World Tour legal wrangling can be a bit complicated to follow and probably should be accompanied by one of those old Haynes Manuals that detailed the inner workings of, say, an Austin Allegro.

Whatever transpires, this seemingly belligerent approach from Rahm doesn’t look great. So much for European harmony.

Just a few weeks ago, Rory McIlroy made a very public plea to Rahm and Hatton to stump up the dosh.

“We went really hard on the Americans about being paid to play the Ryder Cup and we also said that we would pay to play in Ryder Cups,” he said. “Well, there’s two guys that can prove it.”

In 2023, a UK arbitration panel ruled that the DP World Tour was within its rights to impose sanctions upon members who violated its conflicting events rules.

Both Rahm and Hatton were only allowed to play in last September’s Ryder Cup because, somewhat conveniently, their appeals against the DP World Tour sanctions meted out to them had been pushed back.

That kicked the contentious can down the road, but they’ve reached said can again and it seems that Rahm has given it another boot.

One presumes Rahm believes he will be granted some kind of special exemption and a compromise will be met. Leeway, as was proven by the appeals process in the first place, clearly exists but to a casual observer, Rahm’s current stance reeks of entitlement.

And there’s been more than enough of that during the civil war in men’s professional golf over the past few years.

Back in February 2022, when LIV was still in its infancy, Rahm emphatically nailed his colours to the mast. “This is the one and only time I’ll talk about this, I am officially declaring my fealty to the PGA Tour,” he said at the time

The fact the word ‘fealty’ hadn’t been heard since the Norman Conquest gave Rahm’s proclamation added majesty.

In December 2023, though, Rahm performed the kind of screeching, handbrake yanking U-turn that Sir Keir Starmer specialises in and joined the LIV rebellion in a deal reportedly worth £450 million.

It was a mighty coup for LIV. In many ways, we thought it would be a watershed moment for the men’s game; a tipping point that would bring an end to all the poaching and the defections, help restore some order and accelerate the move towards a united front in the splintered upper echelons.

Rahm possibly thought that too. Here in 2026, however, the idea of reunification is as remote as some of the ancient tribes of Sarawak as each establishment ploughs on with its own furrow.

The Ryder Cup, meanwhile, is a separate entity and shouldn’t be collateral damage in another organisation’s fight. It could be, though, should the Rahm saga continue in its current state of impasse.

It’ll take more than a few Sanskrit chants to sort this one out.