The National Golf Club Challenge. Seve, RIP « lostgatos. By Robert, on May 7th, 2011 Thoughts about the great Ballesteros, on the occasion of his death at the age of 54. If ever a golfer could have stepped from the pages of Hemingway, he would be Ballesteros: bold, as impervious to the elements as to his opponents, the true competitor in the arena. Thought No. 2: There ought to be a Seve Trophy, with special meaning attached, the way college football dispenses a bunch of trophies for the outstanding player at each position. The Seve Trophy would go to the golfer whose play is consistently characterized by bravura, style, guts and charisma. Of course, those giving it would probably not be able to find such a figure, so it would go to the guy with the most interesting pants or, perhaps even worse, the best “scrambling” average.
Thought No. 3: From the archives. You should never meet your hero, but Seve Ballesteros was an exception - Tours & News - Golf.com. Reuters Seve Ballesteros in 2001. Meeting your heroes is almost always a disappointment. It's not their fault; it's ours. How can they possibly ever live up to the expectations we mortals have of them as gods in the sporting arena? Better to worship from afar and imagine them as perfect. The last time I spoke to Seve was at the 2006 British Open at Hoylake.
"I wanted my boys to get a sense of what the Open is all about," Seve told me. The first time I visited Seve at his tumbleweed home village of Pedrena (pop: 1,500) on a peninsula in northeastern Spain was in the late 1990s. Seve showed me the spot where he used to climb over the fence to play at the back of the course in the twilight hours. As we walked the course, Seve recognized two elderly ladies on the first tee and went over to greet them. The last time I saw Seve in Pedrena was in 2002. We stopped outside the humble cottage where Seve grew up.
Seve remained proud of his Pedrena roots. Nobody, of course, is perfect. Golf's own Elvis, Seve Ballesteros, has left the building. “I look into their eyes, shake their hand, pat their back, and wish them luck, but I am thinking, ‘I am going to bury you.’ – Seve Ballesteros From his close friend, sportswriter Bill Elliot: “…Seve’s default position, like Tiger Woods now, was never to show any weakness if he could help it… His attraction also lay in his movie-star looks, rakish charisma and desire to involve us all in his journey… There have been only three heroes: Muhammad Ali, George Best and Severiano Ballesteros.
Each had character to equal their talent It may have been difficult actually to live with any of them, but it was impossible not to be a fan…” David Feherty, 1991 Ryder Cup team member: ‘I wasn’t sure I was good enough to be playing in that Ryder Cup, but on the first morning Seve backed me up against a wall and spent 10 minutes telling me I was a great golfer. I remember thinking, “Bloody hell, here’s the greatest player in the world telling me I’m great. Bring it on baby’. Goodbye Seve Ballesteros: The Original Rock N’ Roll Golfer. There has never been a golfer like Seve. People have won more majors, earned more money, starred in more cringeworthy adverts and owned more private planes, but for an impact upon a sport, no-one can match the Conquistdaor himself.
The flowing hair, the megawatt smile, the ridiculous shots, the slazenger jumper, the pumped fist. Seve wasn’t just cool, he was rock n’ roll from the tips of his white shoes to the crown of his jet black mane. When I was a kid there was only Seve. He revived the moribund Ryder Cup by sticking it to the Americans, became the first European to win The Masters and had an indelible impact on kids around the world. There are many ways to play golf, and I’ll always be in the Seve camp. Seve wasn’t just cool, he was rock n’ roll from the tips of his white shoes to the crown of his jet black mane.
Even now, long past his pomp, you see hackers everywhere telling each other, when behind a tree, bush , wall or JCB, to do ‘A Seve.’ I am genuinely heartbroken today. 'Seve made you love him. Made you wish you could be him' - Golf, Sport. Time stood still. Everyone stopped to stare. It felt like there was a blindingly beautiful glow around him. An aura. Bloody hell, there was sex appeal. It was like the moment John Travolta opens the suitcase in Pulp Fiction. Seve’s dazzling white teeth gleamed like neon to light up the caramel-coloured skin of his face - and his deep-set brown eyes sparkled.
Every time he smiled, it was as if a flash bulb had just exploded in his mouth. We met in a hotel in Tenerife before heading to a course he had recently designed. There was no entourage in Tenerife, no bodyguards ushering him to the door. Meeting your heroes should never be recommended. The last time I visited Seve at his home village of Pedrena (population 1,500), perched on the peninsula between Bilbao and Santander, was in 2002. We had lunch at the golf club. Seve decided he wanted to give the photographer and I the royal tour. The first time I met Seve at Pedrena was in the late 1990s. Ballesteros a Daring Improviser Who Made Amazing Look Simple.