Andy Capostagno Golf
It’s called getting the monkey off your back. Ernie Els had been number one on the Sony World rankings for two months and he was about to defend the US Open title for the second time in four years.
In April the gentle giant from Kempton Park handled a satellite link-up to journalists around the world with the aplomb of a United States president denying any know- ledge of a certain brunette.
Then Ernie’s back went and so did the monkey. He is no longer expected to be a factor at Olympic Club in San Francisco.
Els had spasms the day ahead of the Buick Open at Westchester Country Club in New York, but he was the defending champion and went out the following day to give it a bash. He lasted nine holes during which time he was two over par and complained that he couldn’t hit the ball more than 230m off the tee.
Ag, shame. What wouldn’t some of us give to shoot 38 for nine holes and hit the ball 230m off the tee? But, then, some of us are not Ernie Els.
Els won his first US Open in 1994 at Oakmont. He beat Loren Roberts and Colin Montgomerie in an 18-hole play-off after beginning the extra day bogey, triple bogey. That is what distinguishes great players from the rest of the human race.
You and I and a good proportion of the world’s pro’s would have given up there and then. Ernie gritted his teeth, aimed that familiar lop-sided, squint-eyed grin at the camera and proceeded to win his first major at the age of 24.
Last year he did it again, this time at Congressional Country Club. It was Montgomerie whose hopes were again dashed. The pair were in the same group standing on the 17th fairway on the final day.
Montgomerie pushed his approach wide of the mark, Els hit the shot of the championship from 194m, drawing a five iron into the heart of the green on the most difficult hole on the course.
If you needed to crystallise what makes Els special that was it. “It was a very difficult shot to play and I was the first one to go at it and probably the first one to hit the right shot and that was the turning point,” he said.
Montgomerie will be hoping that this year’s turning point was the moment that Els sat up in bed and wondered where his back had gone. The dour Scot is in a dream three ball at Olympic Club with David Duval and Jim Furyk, both of whom have the game to win and thus drag Monty into the competition as well.
Furyk has the kind of swing which must wake David Leadbetter up screaming after a night of garlic prawns. It is the most idiosyncratic thrash of the club since Ireland’s Eamonn Darcy first came on the scene, and one commentator suggested that if those two ever played together you’d need cutting equipment to separate them.
Duval on the other hand is almost the paradigm example of the modern contender. Long and strong in the swing with an unshakeable belief in his own ability. Duval does not have Furyk’s touch on the greens, but he is the hottest golfer in the world at the moment, winning five times in 15 starts on the US PGA Tour.
Duval, like Els, Tiger Woods, Justin Leonard et al, is one of the band of precocious youngsters who threatened to take control of the game last year. But when a fortysomething battler like Mark O’Meara can win the Masters, it’s time to remember that golf is a game which has a habit of kicking unworldly youngsters in the stomach with a steel toe-capped boot.
Els sees the point. “Playing in the US Open you’ve got to have a lot of talent to be there in the first place. So everybody has a chance, but it is going to take a player who has a bit of experience. Maybe some of the guys who have done well in the past, like Scott Simpson, who is playing well again, or Tom Watson who is not past his time.”
Els is becoming well aware of the history of the game. He selects the two men who fought it out the last time the US Open was played at Olympic Club. Simpson won his only major because Watson kept on hitting the wrong shape of shot a little too far on the par 70 Lakeside course which protects itself from the power hitters with a preponderance of severe dog-legs.
The US Golf Association is currently debating whether space-age technology, in the shape of graphite shafts and oversized clubheads, should be allowed to turn the great courses of the world into pitch and putt competitions for the pro’s.
So it will be fascinating to see who tames Olympic, a course which demands placement not length. Perhaps someone who can only hit it 230m off the tee might have a chance after all.