Seve Ballesteros, Hero, Inspiration, Legend

Seve in full flow

Very upsetting news filtering through from various sources has got me thinking about Seve a lot today. I wish him all the very best.

Even before I first played golf back in the early 80's, I was aware of who he was. I was only 11 or 12 but I could tell he was special when he came on the TV screen, with his dark good looks and flashing, fearless golf power. I remember going to a Summer school at a local golf club around 1984, which was essentially, a chance for parents to get you out the house for 6 weeks & let someone else keep an eye on you for a few hours a day. It was an eye opening experience for someone so young, and to throw in a few lessons, a mini tournament, balata golf balls, plastic tee's, plus the chance to hang around a real golf club, well, it was a dream. (I revisited the course recently & a lot has changed since back then, but it has been over two decades. The car park was a gamble, 4 kids were playing football on the 18th green & the 3 holes at the turn should be renamed 'Dog Sh*t Alley) The pro who ran it turned out to be bit of a boozer with an acute gambling addiction, but that's another (familiar) story. It was Seve who I always wanted to be in the practise sessions, I tried to play all the bunker & low punchy recovery shots just like him. My friend Rob was always a Nicklaus, a Watson or a Norman. I remember asking my Mum to buy me a dark blue Slazenger sweater, dark navy trousers and white shoes so I would look the part. My school trousers and Dad's oversize Gabbici polo shirt just did not make me feel like an exciting new golf pro, more like I should be pulling pints in The Red Lion. I never did get the clothes, although I think they would have helped edge me into a first place instead of a paltry third in the final tournament of the Summer. Maybe, with that sprinkling of Spanish, Slazenger navy blue fairy dust it may have happened. Let's face it, it just wasn't going to happen in Farah knock offs and my Dad's old pigeon fanciers shirt. I got beat by my mate (Greg Norman that day) and a girl. (Who I'm sure cheated heavily and lied about being 13 years old, she was at least 5 inches taller and had 2 stone on me. Come to think of it her boyfriend had a motorbike and drank Special Brew)

I didn't look like this

When I finally got back to playing golf after 20+ years, it was Seve who I looked out for on TV and in magazines, yes he may have been way past his best, his back in bits, and missed cuts galore but he was still magical and charismatic to watch. I went to Hoylake GC in 2006 to The British Open, and it was Seve who I followed around all 18 holes. Watching him hit the ball was fantastic, his short game still as good as ever, it seemed so natural & effortless for him. His son was caddying for him that day, and it was just inspirational to see him hit shots around a tough links course, having a laugh and appearing to just enjoy being out there & playing again. 

At the Ryder Cup 2010, I was at the front of the crowd at the closing ceremony when that black and white picture of Seve & Olazabal was being paraded down from the clubhouse to the stage by the caddies. It was a fantastic moment for both teams and the crowd, to show what love and respect they had for this great ambassador of golf. (I'm getting goose bumps right now thinking about that moment)

I finally got to play The Brabazon course at The Belfry a few years ago, (and four times since) and on the 10th hole, I always try to drive the green, regardless of my score, good or bad, just like he did in that famous Ryder Cup shot from the 80's. I never make it, but I will try again everytime I go back there. When I play golf, I never lay up. It wasn't his way, it isn't mine.