To justify all the plaudits, Ernie Els needs to win a second major — and this week’s British Open would do just fine
GOLF: David Davies
ERNIE ELS was standing on the practice putting green at the Augusta National Golf Club last April when he heard a familiar, high-pitched voice call over to him. “Hey, Ernie,” said Jack Nicklaus, “What’s wrong with you? When are you going to win this thing?”
Els was both flattered and flabbergasted — flattered because someone as good as Nicklaus clearly thought he both could and should win a US Masters title, flabbergasted because of the way it was put. “There was no answer to what he said,” says Els. “You get the same daft questions from everyone, even Nicklaus it seems.”
No one is more aware of the need to win another major championship than is Els, possibly the most talented golfer in the world. He won the US Open in 1994, the first non-American to do so since the Australian Dave Graham did so in 1981, and was only 24 at the time. He went on to win big events around the world, including the Toyota World Match Play title twice, the Johnnie Walker World Championship, the Sarazen World Open and, seven weeks ago, the US Tour event, the Buick Classic, by no fewer than eight shots.
Els, in terms of talent, is undoubtedly the man for the Nineties and probably the early years of the new millennium. The good and the great in the game have been lavish in their praise of a man who, seemingly, can do anything that is required with a golf ball.
After partnering him in a US Open, Curtis Strange said: “I’ve just played with the new golfing god,” while Gary Player sees in the Els swing great similarities with that of Sam Snead. Two years ago in Japan Els, having played a practice round, spotted Nicklaus going out to play nine holes with his son Gary, also competing in the Dunlop Phoenix event.
Els, who is essentially a shy man, breathed deep, went over and asked if he could join them. “I’d never played with him,” says Els now, “and I didn’t know that I ever would.” Afterwards Nicklaus was asked for his impressions, including the inevitable query about whether Els could be “the next Nicklaus”.
The American is weary of this above all questions but for once took time to answer it. “Ernie could be that,” he said, “or he could be something much better. He has the potential to have anything happen. It’s not that he hits the ball so far, he hits it so far — so effortlessly.”
The majors, of course, are that by which a career is measured, and Els is aware of what should come next. “I need another major,” he says. “I’ve slipped since winning the US Open and now I want to win another.”
But in the short term the current No 3 has what he calls “a burning ambition” to be No 1 in the world on the Sony rankings and says: “I know I have the ability to get there. But my game only seems to reach the really high levels two or three times per year.”
That admission reveals a paradox about the South African’s game. Players like Ian Woosnam and, in the recent past, Severiano Ballesteros have capitalised on periods of form by going for absolutely everything. They can be aggressive to a fault.
But Els, oddly for such a gifted striker, says: “When I get confident I feel I hold back. I hit safer shots rather than going for it. Maybe because it feels so easy I don’t concentrate as much as I should. Maybe I should `see’ the aggressive shot but I definitely feel that I am under-achieving at times. Perhaps in a couple of years, when I know myself and have played in a few more majors, I’ll approach it differently, be less cautious.”
For the moment, though, nothing changes. “I won’t be trying to win the Open on Thursday or Friday. I’ll just try to play my way into contention.”
Should he win, one thing is certain. There will be a large party on Sunday night and a large number of sore heads on Monday morning. Els has never had a “problem” with alcohol because he is sensible enough to know when, and when not, to drink. But he would admit, along with Richard Krajicek, that he enjoys a few beers. “I am what I am,” Els says smiling — he smiles a lot — “and I like people around me that I know.”
After winning the South African PGA championship last year Els retired to a huge sponsors’ tent which had enormous circular tables all round it. An hour later there was no room around the table, or indeed on it, for any more beer bottles.
Els was enjoying himself although he has been known, on the morning after such occasions, to deny his presence at such celebrations and say: “That wasn’t me, that was Theo.” His full name is, of course, Theodore Ernest Els.
That was the name on the cheque that he won for his victory in the 1992 South African Open. It was for R70 000 and it was not until late in the night that he realised it had gone missing. His drinking partner that night was Rudolf Lake, who writes golf for Beeld, and says: “We were propped up in this bar when suddenly Ernie reaches into his pocket and there it was, gone. We had to try and remember the next day all the pubs we’d been to and eventually we found it. It was pinned up behind the bar, waiting for us.”
Els is an Afrikaner, the son of a wealthy transport operator Neels, who was able, when his son’s talent began to show through, to dig up the tennis court and instead build a putting green. Ernie was a good tennis player too but, when he was 14, the family sat down to try to decide whether he would play golf or tennis or, rather, at which of them he was more likely to become extremely good.
For Els this is the start of the remainder of his career. “What am I,” he says, “26? That means I’ve probably got another 14 good years left, so that means I’ve got about 56 majors to come. Now, if I can get into contention in 20 of those, I might be able to win a few and get that career Grand Slam.”
He would join Nicklaus, Ben Hogan, Gene Sarazen and Gary Player and he would be a suitable addition to that roll of honour.