The confident smirk, if not the trademark twinkle in his eye, said it all.
In the spring of 2007, a British crew was on hand to document the week of Spanish icon Severiano Ballesteros, who was playing in the Masters, as it turned out, for the final time.
|
|
| Seve Ballesteros' charisma made him the front man for a modern wave of European stars. (Getty Images) |
Sometimes, with icons in cleats, the lore can sound a bit ludicrous. Ballesteros had learned the game as a boy while playing with a hand-me-down 3-iron on a Spanish beach, inventing shots on the fly. Ballesteros tried to explain how he had, indeed, hit greenside bunker shots with a 3-iron laid open.
Finally, his bushy eyebrows dancing above the grin on his face, Ballesteros said, "You'd like to see me do it, no?"
Si, senor. With that, he flipped a 3-iron explosion shot over the lip of the trap and to within a few inches of the cup, beaming as though it was the most natural shot in the game.
Over the weekend, fans were reminded that sand slips through the hourglass far more easily than it does under a 3-iron. Ballesteros had a seizure and was taken to a Madrid hospital, where exams indicated that the 51-year-old legend has a brain tumor. A biopsy is scheduled for Tuesday, according to the incomplete medical reports issued from La Paz hospital.
Whether the tumor is benign or malignant, inoperable or not, Ballesteros clearly needs a few more moments of the magic he practiced so deftly for two decades.
The first European to win the Masters, a man with 94 international victories including 49 in Europe and another nine in the U.S., Ballesteros could always get up and down from where Jesus left his sandals. He could turn adversity into an advantage, no matter the severity of the situation.
Trite as it sounds, that doesn't make it any less true: He must now conjure up the biggest recovering shot of all, it seems. The greatest European player in history must find the medical equivalent of himself, an expert undaunted by odds.
Overseas, where Ballesteros was indisputably the most beloved figure in the game, his brethren have sent their regards and tried to explain the inexplicable -- what he has meant to their careers.
"I never played with a more charismatic golfer, but he was not just extraordinary in the golfing sense," England's Lee Westwood said. "If you went into a room, you knew he was there even if you couldn't see or hear him. That's how big he was in his heyday and even now."
For decades, Seve has been characterized as the Arnold Palmer of Europe, the player whose savoir faire, charisma and sheer magnetism brought the game into the living rooms of mainstream sports fans and elevated golf's legitimacy. A respected journalist friend of mine in the U.K., who has been floored by the news of his ailing hero, said that's not really accurate.
