Its inclusion in any compilation of iconic sporting images from down the years would be mandatory.
St Andrews, July 22, 1984. As his 276th blow of that year’s Open drops in the hole, there’s a smile as wide as the Forth on the face of Seve Ballesteros while he pumps his fist then sharply punches the air.
Joy and relief around the 18th green unconfined, the denouement to that year’s championship pure theatre.
It remains one of the great sporting snapshots of our time, a stolen moment to be cherished for eternity.
Ballesteros had already cradled the Claret Jug in 1979 at Lytham and would do so again at the same course in 1988. He’d also won the Masters in 1980 and 1983.
But nothing he achieved throughout his career felt more significant than that victory at the Home of Golf. It reverberates almost 41 years on.
Seve Ballesteros punches the air in delight after holing the winning putt to claim the 1984 Open
The legendary Spaniard locks lips with the Claret Jug for the second time
Ballesteros is given a hero’s reception on the 18th at the Old Course following his success
Was it the venue? His struggles in the preceding months? The fact he’d held off reigning champion Tom Watson to win? Or that majestic celebration? Maybe it was a combination of all of those things. The search for the answer has been assiduously undertaken by author Kenny Reid, a captivated teenage onlooker during that storied afternoon in Fife.
The upshot is ‘Seve Ballesteros’s Touch of Class’ a wonderful evocation of the Spaniard’s life and career which winds around that thrilling week.
Beautifully written, it re-examines the Ballesteros legend from his humble upbringing in Northern Spain through to the moment he holed that famous putt.
Many writers have tried to capture what made watching him in full fight so hypnotic. Reid emphatically succeeds in doing so.
The notion that Seve was a golfing genius is thoroughly examined.
Golf was certainly in the blood. His uncle, Ramon Sota, was the best player in Spain while his brothers all worked locally as caddies at Real Golf de Pedrena, the land for which had been sold by Ballesteros’ great grandfather.
But Ballesteros was self-taught. Gifted the head of an old iron, he took a stick, soaked it in water and attached it to the hosel to create his first club. The skills that would one day thrill a worldwide audience were learned hitting pebbles on Pedrena’s beach.
‘From the age of five, Mozart would compose and play in front of royalty,’ Reid writes. ‘But this nascent golfista played majestic golfing symphonies in his own head, the beach his sheet music.’
Ballesteros won more European Tour events than any other player but also had his struggles
As well as three Open titles, Ballesteros also won The Masters twice, in 1980 (above) and 1983
The fruits of these labours were not initially forthcoming. Ballesteros struggled after turning professional in the mid 70s.
He missed the cut in his first Open at Carnoustie in 1975, which Watson won. He briefly held the lead at Birkdale the following year, only for Johnny Miller to take the glory.
However, Seve’s display in Southport was enough for people to stop and take notice of this remarkable and unique talent.
‘From his looks, to his homegrown technique, to his skill, to his simple elegant style, men, women and children swooned,’ Reid says.
‘He shared all our flaws both on and off the golf course, but it all seemed to come from the heart.
‘He fascinated and infuriated by turn. He caused elevation and heartache. Seve was human.
‘He was capable of the shots of every golfer’s dreams. And many shots no one had dared imagine.
‘He fingered club heads and shafts and grips like the finest artisans from a Spanish village specialising in leather or ceramics. He handled his sticks like precious objects.’
Ballesteros had been well-placed in the top five at the end of the first three rounds
Fans were drawn to Seve as his off-field struggles appeared to make him more human
Ballesteros’s love-hate relationship with the USA is also laid bare — and explains his love of the Ryder Cup.
‘Early on in his career he heard comments in locker rooms about him coming over the Atlantic to plunder the purses of players on the PGA Tour. He took these slights personally,’ adds Reid. ‘He could woo US crowds just as he totally detested some of their players.’
His European contemporaries of those days are also recalled in the book.
‘Nick Faldo won more Majors (six), but the difference between the two is the difference between a perfectly emulsioned factory wall and a work by Velazquez,’ says Reid.
We are reminded of the Spaniard’s epic jousts with the great Watson, their battle at the US Open at Oakmont in 1983 (won by Larry Nelson), which gives context to what was to unfold the following year.
A fine player in his own right, Reid’s love affair with golf in a changing UK is endearing.
‘Lugging a wet Scottish golf bag around a golf course in the 1970s was probably what it felt like to dispose of a dead body, 18 times,’ he says.
Ballesteros holds aloft the Ryder Cup in 1997 and the event seemed to harness his passion
His fixation with Ballesteros and the theories behind his enduring legacy 13 years after his death are what makes the book so compelling.
‘For legions of juniors, Ballesteros’ attributes of strength, deftness and adventure were to be aspired to, a golfing matrix no one had ever considered.’
Reid’s journey to Pedrena to connect with his idol’s birthplace gives the book authenticity, while allowing the author to venture what made this star shine brighter than others.
‘He created stories with tension, drama, no clear ending… part of Seve’s art was imperfection. Winning gets boring.
‘His golf seemed unencumbered by detail, the detail of how to get round the course conventionally and the notion that one had to be on the fairway and on the greens in regulation to score well.’
Having adeptly detailed the backstory, Reid’s account of the ‘84 Open makes the reader feel like he or she has gone back in time.
It’s easy to forget there was little expectation of the Spaniard triumphing. He was in poor form and hadn’t finished in the top five of an Open since Lytham.
The swashbuckling style of Seve captured the imagination of golf fans in the late 70s and 80s
His smile of delight and fist pump in 1984 are among the most enduring images of Seve
Newspapers were filled with predictions of Watson, Greg Norman or Bernhard Langer emerging triumphant.
‘Seve’s jet black hair flapped in the breeze,’ the author recalls of his first sighting of him on the Thursday.
‘His bronzed features caressed by the Scottish elements of the season, wind and sun. Light-grey slacks, black sweater, dark golf shirt, he was not one for bold or dizzying stripes and checks. Little distorted the message of his beauty and grace.’
Norman led after the first round, but had Scot Bill Longmuir and American Peter Jacobsen for company.
Ian Baker-Finch then made his move, leading after the second round only to be joined at the top of the leaderboard by Watson on Saturday night.
As the Australian’s challenge faded in the final round, Langer, Watson and Ballesteros took the stage.
Playing in the penultimate group, a brilliant par for the Spaniard at the treacherous 17th, Road Hole, came moments before the American’s wayward second left him needing a miracle.
Supporters at the Old Course roar in delight as Ballesteros makes his winning putt
Two shots later, Ballesteros stood over his right-to-left putt on the 18th with his destiny in his own hands.
‘Our stand erupted into panicked joy,’ Reid recalled of the moment the ball trickled into the hole.
‘The whole structure tectonically shifted as some roared at Ballesteros while others cheered at one another.
‘Some hugged and a few sought validation of what they had just witnessed, glazed in an elixir of disbelief and astonishment, as Seve punched the air, elation scored across his face, part matador, part boxer, part golfer, part you, part me.’
Seve Ballesteros’s Touch of Class, by Kenny Reid, is presented by Pitch Publishing.
