Robert Allenby: "Do I like to have a good time? Hell yeah." Credit:Getty Images The name alone conjures many thoughts: prodigiously gifted golfer who drew Norman-esque comparisons in the 1990s; the player who should have but has not won a major; sideshow freak who's been arrested, belted and kidnapped, depending on which version of the truth you prefer to believe. Lyle only knows the Allenby who has raised an estimated $30 million in 25 years for Challenge, the not-for-profit organisation that provides support for kids with cancer. The person who sat at Lyle's bedside in intensive care when he was a 17-year-old fighting leukaemia. "He was wired up with tubes and not feeling great, family sitting there feeling sad," Allenby recalls. "I said, 'get out of here and we'll have some good times'." Recalls Lyle, now 35 and a professional golfer: "I remember like it was yesterday. He said, 'When you get out of here and you're well enough, we'll go and play some golf'. And that's the thing: not a lot of people see the side I do. I've seen the competitive side. He's mean, he's tough. When you see him in an environment like I was in – and a lot of kids still are – they see a caring father who gets emotional because he also has kids."

Battling cancer: Jarrod Lyle (left) and Robert Allenby. Credit:Eamon Gallagher The horror stories about Allenby always seem too good to be true, whether it's from seasoned golf reporters to tour veterans to fans who have copped it from him while sitting in the gallery. I'd been forewarned about the importance of framing the questions just right, because he could snap at any moment and walk away. Robert Allenby after the incident in Hawaii. Credit:Screen grab However, at the end of our 55-minute interview on Tuesday, there was no sign of the out-of-control diva so many had made him out to be – so much so that I wondered if I had been played.

Had this all been an act? Had Lyle been planted there at the adjacent putting green on purpose? "He couldn't put on an act for that long," offered one senior golf reporter. "Sounds like you got him on a good day." Tell Allenby that the man before you doesn't fit the mould that others speak of and he smiles. "Good doesn't sell," he said. "Shit sells. I've been compared here in Australia to footballers [Wayne Carey], tennis players [Bernard Tomic], an Olympic champion [Ryan Lochte] in recent times. Have I been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yeah, maybe. Have things been blown out of proportion? Yes. I haven't done a lot. I don't do drugs, I've never smoked, I drink socially with family and friends. As a professional golfer, you can't drink during a tournament because you have to wake up every day feeling fantastic. The most would be a couple of beers or a wine during dinner. At the age of 45, I'm entitled to it. "Do I like to have a good time? Hell yeah. I'm not different to anyone else. Everyone does it. The funny thing is, there are only four or five incidents over 45 years of my life but they are, apparently, the ones people want to use to paint a picture of Robert Allenby."

So it's all driven by the media? "Totally!" But many golfers you speak to paint the same picture … "I've always just called it as I see it. And that can get you into trouble. Should I lie and be the goody two shoes? No. I'm not trying to be a bad boy either. I have a beautiful wife and kids and family who love me to death. And friends who stick by me." Back in the early 1990s, Allenby won a lot of friends at this tournament, the Australian Open.

In 1991, at Royal Melbourne, he almost won as an amateur before Wayne Riley produced an unforgettable birdie-birdie-birdie finish – including a monster putt across the 72nd green – to win by a stroke. Three years later, at Royal Sydney, he was hitting balls on the practice range before the final round when the late Norman Von Nida stood inches behind him. Because of failing eyesight, the Von could barely see. But he could hear. "You're not using your legs well enough through the ball," he told Allenby. Recalls Allenby, who had trailed Brett Ogle by three strokes at the start of the day before holding his nerve to finally win. "So I used my legs and I won the tournament. Not my greatest win – but one of my best wins." A few weeks ago his wife Kim (who he married last year) was hunting through some old boxes and stumbled upon a stack of trophies … and the gold medal presented to him in 1994. He'll use it this week to mark his ball.

The Australian Open has shown what Allenby can do. In 2005, at Moonah Links, he won the tournament when he had no business doing so. He shows me the scar on the palm of his right hand. "It was from a bottle," he said. "I had a Corona bottle in my hand …" He jumps to the assumption before I can. "And now everyone is going to think that I was drunk. Anyway, I turned around, tripped on the stairs and the bottle went through my hand. Three weeks before the tournament. Nerve damage. The night before [the first round] I was at a barbecue with Lucas Parsons and I told him, 'I don't know if I'll play tomorrow'. I went out and shot nine-under. All I had to do was hold on."

Allenby went on to also win the Masters and Australian PGA, becoming the only player to claim the Triple Crown. That was 11 years ago. Many expected him to have collected major tournaments in the US and Europe by now. He hasn't. He's slipped from being 12th in the world in 2010 to his current ranking of 1337th. "I was definitely confident that it was time back then to win a major, but I just never performed," he said, candidly. "Every time I didn't perform it felt to me like it was a setback. Some handle majors well and some don't and, to date, I haven't played great in majors. A couple of top 10s but I should have done better than that. I never have regrets, but in hindsight I just put too much pressure on myself." If there is something Allenby doesn't need to do, it's put pressure on himself. Others are lining up around the corner to do that. "Exactly!" he laughs. "Why am I trying to be them?"

From the incident in Honolulu ("I have no memory in my brain. I've been trying and looking but there is nothing") to the incident in August when he was arrested for disorderly conduct and trespass outside a casino in Illinois after missing the cut at yet another tournament ("I don't know anything that's going on, so you can say whatever you want"), Allenby has become a punchline. Those charges were dropped and, ostensibly, he's only hurting himself in these instances. It's his regular fallouts with caddies, especially those who have dropped the bag and walked off the course, that irks many inside the game. "This is the problem," Allenby said. "I am not the first person to have a go at a caddie. There are a lot of famous golfers playing the game today who abuse their caddies. I could reel off 10 amazing names but I don't need to. "I've had two walk away and one of them was having a bad moment. The other one, the more recent one (involving Mick Middlemo), was typical: he says his part, I say my part, but they always believe his part. The times I tried to tell it as it was but nobody wants to write the truth." He knows his career is in reverse. He's used up two exemptions that have allowed him to keep playing the USPGA Tour, on which he has won nearly $30 million in prizemoney since 1993. He's relying on invitations to tournaments, and the influx of outstanding young players out of college is as much a barrier as his reputation for rubbing officials the wrong way.

Does he ever think about walking away? "In the last two years?" Allenby grins. "Almost every single day." He says he often walks through the door of his Florida home having missed another cut and tells his wife: "I'm washed up. I have no confidence. The negative press is killing me, it's got to me inside. Is this really me? Am I this bad a person that people are making me out to be?" Then he sleeps on it and starts all over again. The thing that keeps him going, he says, is the work not too many want to see. On Sunday night, no matter what happens at the Australian Open, he will fly to Melbourne for the annual golf day and gala dinner at the Crown Palladium for Challenge.

When he was 13, a friend around the same age died from leukaemia. When he was 20, he came on board with Challenge and it now supports 1000 or so children at one time. It has care houses in Portsea, Torquay and the Gold Coast, and it's here that he met Lyle. "In recent times, though, I've had people in the media say I should step down from Challenge," Allenby said. "Even someone who used to be on the board who is no longer there says I should step down. If you take me away, it takes away the chance to generate amazing funds. I don't see these other people raising money for cancer. "It's from the heart. It's not for any other reason. There are a lot of things I do that people don't know about."