If anyone needs reminding of Lydia Ko's dedication to winning her home LPGA golf tournament, let Tuesday's practice round at Windross Farm be tabled as evidence.

Ko strolled the fairway of the 323m par-four fourth hole as a nor'westerly wind buffeted the course.

A slate sky soon disintegrated into lashings of rain.

Her entourage - a swarm of about 50 media and fans - dispersed as if lightning had struck the green.


A couple of hardy souls waged war with their umbrellas. The remainder skedaddled into a nearby barn, complete with hay bales for ambience.

This writer found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Ko's Dad Gil Hong; a lack of wet weather gear bonding us forever.

His daughter adopted a sterner attitude as the conditions unleashed a fit of pique.

She accepted caddy Peter Godfrey's offer of a jacket and addressed a series of putts designed to account for whatever circumstances might face her when the McKayson New Zealand Women's Open begins tomorrow.

The squall gave Ko a moment to herself, free from the scrutiny of the throng.

Only the flax leaves were left to applaud in the gallery.

The episode highlighted the beauty of watching Ko play.

Anyone observing her along the fence line of the 16th hole at St Andrews during the first round of the 2013 British Open will concur.

The then 16-year-old amateur jammed a ball against an embankment 40-yards out with a sliced second shot.

She faced an undulating chip onto the green of the 423-yard, par-four Corner of the Dyke.

The crowd, albeit about 20 of us, congregated around the ball as Ko approached.

"Oh, great," she murmured to no one in particular with a grin and shrug of the shoulders.

Her reaction drew a chorus of well-wishes, most including a half-hearted "Good luck..."

The consensus was no one could recover from such an ominous position.

Ko snuggled into the wall brandishing what looked like a seven-iron. Her connection was a hybrid of table tennis slice and woodchopping power.

The ball squeaked out of strife and, as if showing its appreciation, nestled within eight-feet of the pin.

Ko sank the putt and skipped off the green.

Based on that moment, Ko's ascension to two majors has not surprised.

The world No 1 has accumulated myriad accolades, most prefaced by "youngest".

Her work ethic insures against defeats and disappointments.

Little has changed in Ko's disposition since. Her serenity makes good of most situations.

Yes, she has faced adversity since falling from the world No 1 spot on June 12 - she's currently eighth - but has had nine top 10 finishes and earnings of US$834,899 this year, including a tie for third at the Evian Championship major 10 days ago.

Yesterday she spent time on the range before emerging to play her practice round with few other competitors left on a course which remained firm underfoot despite the showers.

The wind helped.

It's power even took the cap off a caddy in Ko's playing group as he exited the second green.

Like a cricketer trying to save a boundary, Ko fielded the rogue lid as it freewheeled towards the rough.

The headwear was returned with a smile.

Such a temperament is central to Ko's success.

Her rhythmical swing and instinctive feel never see her try to drive the cover off the ball or hold her irons to ransom by asking them to perform miracles.

She clasps her putter confidently but carefully, like a museum curator relocating a Ming vase.

Countless hours of childhood practice consistently pay dividends.

Her emotion perhaps resonated most when she shed tears after winning her maiden New Zealand Open in 2013.

"It means a lot and makes it more special to be the first New Zealander to win the women's open. It is always special to make history. I guess I broke history again."

If Tuesday was a gauge, don't rule out a repeat of that scenario this week.