"Jesus Christ, he can't help himself, can he?"

In an entertaining autopsy of this week's revelation, Tom English says not so fast on Monty and The Times declaring that the 2014 Captaincy is all wrapped up.

Monty wasn't so much the cat out of the bag as the cat that got the cream. You could practically hear him purring from the back row of the interview room at Loch Lomond.

That's Monty's mantra. Last week, next week, next month, next year, he'll keep at it, he'll keep campaigning for the role in the hope of backing the committee into a corner whereby it becomes a massive story if he does not get it. A snub. A shameful way to treat an old hero. By making noise now he is sowing the seeds for 2014.

Monty's comments are not based on fact, not based, we're told, on any secret promises. From what we can make out they're assumptions based on the hardly fullproof theory of "I am Monty, I want it, I need it, I deserve it, how could you not give it to me?"

Having spoken to two members of the tour committee, we can say that Monty is being premature here. Maybe he will get it – if you put a gun to the head of both committee members they'd say he probably will – but they cast their eyes to the gloomy heavens above Loch Lomond when Monty's quote was read to them. One said: "Jesus Christ, he can't help himself, can he?" The other was a lot less exasperated and a great deal more sarcastic: "Does Monty want to be captain at Gleneagles? Bloody hell, he should have said something before now."