Why Seve remains his favourite player

IT is hard to believe I assure you, but it is now some 12 years since the last time I witnessed Seve Ballesteros win a Tour title, at the 1994 Benson and Hedges International at St Mellion in Cornwall.

Since that time the Spaniard has won once more, at the 1995 Peugeot Spanish Open, and also played a cameo role in Europe¹s victory at the 1995 Ryder Cup at Oak Hill Country Club in Rochester, New York.

But to all intents and purposes he has become but a pale shadow of the golfer who won three Open Championships, two Masters tournaments and who at one time battled his way up to the giddy heights of No 1 in the world.

It is a measure of how far Ballesteros has fallen that this summer when he teed up in the Open Championship at Hoylake ­ he recorded rounds of 74 and 77 to miss the cut by eight shots ­ I found myself justifying his appearance to a group of youngsters who seemed barely to know who he was.

It was a salutary illustration of the fleeting nature of fame, but at least it acted as a welcome reminder of how great Ballesteros once was. The Spaniard¹s game is now the living antithesis of Hoylake¹s motto "Far and Sure" but that should not cloud the fact that in his prime he was the outstanding golfer of the time. He might not have won as many Majors as Nick Faldo. He was never as relentlessly consistent as Bernhard Langer but, my goodness, how the man could play.

Ballesteros shades Arnold Palmer as my favourite golfer and the first reason for this was the aggressive manner he used to play the game. The Spaniard simply did not know when he was defeated and appeared willing to try almost anything to beat an opponent in matchplay or to gain the ascendancy in a strokeplay event.

He also had an incredible array of golf shots and the first time the world witnessed this repertoire came back in 1976 when as a precocious 19 year-old he came close to wresting the Open title from the grasp of the experienced American Johnny Miller.

Ballesteros failed on that occasion but not before he treated his audience to a scintillating exhibition of shot making, cumulating in an exquisite and highly improbable pitch to the final green that sealed second place alongside Jack Nicklaus.

He was to enjoy an enduring love affair with The Open which reached its pinnacle when he grabbed his third title out of the grasp of the two Nicks ­ Price and Faldo ­ at Royal Lytham some 12 years later.

On that occasion, Price held a two shot lead over both his nearest rivals with 18-holes left to play and, as he headed to the first tee, was overheard saying to his caddie: "If we can just shoot 69 today we can forget about the rest."

On the surface at least, given the demands Lytham places on the golfer, it was not an unreasonable comment but what it failed to take into account was that Ballesteros seldom stuck to a script.

Instead, he raced to the turn in 31 and then promptly birdied the 10th, 11th, and 16th to post a 65 that equalled the lowest final round in 117 Opens and defeated the unfortunate Zimbabwean by a couple of shots.

Later that month, writing in Golf Digest, famed American golf writer, Dan Jenkins put into perspective the thoughts of all of us who had witnessed that incredible round.

"It would not be possible to commemorate Seve¹s 65 with plaques," he said with reference to the disc the Lancashire club had mounted to commemorate a wonder shot Bobby Jones had played on his way to his Open triumph in 1926.

"Seve played so many great shots it would render the course unplayable." Looking back many years later, Seve himself suggested that final round at Lytham was probably the best he ever played.

It is hard to disagree but, for me at least, it is not his Open victories, Masters triumph or his 82 other Tour wins that stick in the mind with most clarity. Instead, it was his performances in the Ryder Cup that takes precedent over all else.

Nowadays, it has become fashionable to label Colin Montgomerie as Europe¹s No 1 man when it comes to this biennial transatlantic contest.

But, with due respect to the Scot, his contribution, impressive though it is, pales into insignificance alongside what Ballesteros did for the European cause in eight appearances as a player and another as Captain in his homeland in 1997.

Ballesteros always had a chip on his shoulder when it came to the Americans and he illustrated his colossal desire to beat them for the first time in 1983 where the European team lost by a single shot at PGA National in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida.

"Why you all look so unhappy," he asked his assembled European colleagues in his somewhat broken English in the aftermath of that defeat. "We played good, now we know we can win next time."

Seve, of course, was quite right. With him as talisman, the Europeans won in 1985, won in 1987, halved in 1989 and won again in 1995, starting a trend that has been perpetuated to this day, and, along the way, he also produced what is arguably the finest shot the game of golf has ever seen.

That shot, one I feel privileged to have witnessed, was played on the 18th hole of his singles match against Fuzzy Zoeller at the aforementioned matches in 1983 and it left the assembled watchers open-mouthed in awe.

One down with one to play, and lying deep in a bunker after his second shot, Ballesteros did not flinch as he pulled out his 3-wood and smashed it 220 yards to the edge of the distant green. "It was the finest shot I have ever seen," said the US captain, Jack Nicklaus, with not a hint of hyperbole.

It also defined the Spaniard¹s genius, illustrated his unrivalled ability to hit shots that no-one else could play and epitomised his immense doggedness and determination.

Put simply, that shot alone set him apart from almost every other golfer who
has ever lived.