Study in Contrasts

By Jaime Diaz
Photo: Charles LaBerge July 27, 2007

When Seve Ballesteros officially ended his competitive career just as Sergio Garcia was about to revive his last week at Carnoustie, it was natural to wonder if one had inspired the other. Garcia didn't discourage the possibility when he conceded the coincidence would have made his long-awaited first major championship "a fairy tale or something like that." Indeed, there's no question that since Ballesteros exploded on the scene in the 1970s -- becoming the Arnold Palmer of European golf -- and began his grim decline in the 1990s, the highest profile Latin golfer has been Garcia.

Countryman José Maria Olazábal might have two green jackets and more respect from his peers, but he always has lived the most private of public lives. Garcia has a more electric game and both courts and enjoys fame -- witness his beer commercials presenting a suave boulevardier driving fast cars and fending off beautiful women. If Ballesteros' torch could be passed, Garcia would seem the logical recipient.

The problem is that the flame went out long ago. Ballesteros' five majors, 50 European Tour victories and heroics in eight Ryder Cups happened in the analog age. His retirement press conference last week, though a surprise, was long overdue and sad. Besides, golf is now global, and Tiger Woods is the Pied Piper.

Ballesteros said he had chosen Carnoustie for his hastily called announcement because it was the site of his first Open Championship, in 1975. "There was a fight, an internal fight," he said, once again charming the journalists who have traced his always charismatic trajectory. The fight was written in his gaunt features and hollow eyes, a look that had given reports of a week earlier of his attempted suicide (which he vehemently denied) plausibility. Standing next to his former rival Nick Faldo -- who though always taller and wider had never seemed quite as dynamic as the Spaniard in their primes -- Ballesteros looked older and almost frail.

Also 50, Faldo has gracefully transitioned from competition to a successful career in broadcasting and course architecture. Ballesteros instead doggedly hung on to the hope he would somehow regain the skill that had been his reason for being. It was a graphic portrait on how much the cruel game can take from its most rewarded champions, particularly when they are passionate and obsessed enough to give up everything else. "You have to remember that I give away all my teenage years," he said.

It was poignant. Ballesteros -- sometimes petty in his battles with the PGA and European tours, often arrogant in his bearing -- has somehow always possessed dignity, all the more because he has suffered. It was the enduring image of his farewell British Open performance last year at Hoylake. Battling his way to scores of 74-77, Ballesteros' uncomplaining intensity in the face of overwhelming obstacles, as his 16-year-old son, Baldomero, carried his bag, was a father's stoic lesson in character.

Garcia, 27, who is winless on any tour since 2005, is now learning in earnest all about the suffering the game can impose, and his dignity is in development. The two men certainly possess some things in common. Both were prodigies. Both have wonderful artistry and flair. They've been at their best in the most passionate event in golf, the Ryder Cup, with Garcia's record of 14-4-2 the best ever by any player who has played 15 matches or more. They were more popular with fans than with fellow players. Especially American players.

They were in close contact early in Garcia's career, when the younger Spaniard was playing in pro events at 14. When others were saying that Garcia's drop-down move would have to be altered, Ballesteros, who came to rue his constant experimentation with swing coaches, almost commanded him, "Don't change your swing."

But any closeness ended early. Ballesteros perceived a lack of respect from Garcia when the younger man, at times, passed on representing Spain in the World Cup and the Dunhill Cup, or playing in the Seve Trophy, or missing big tournaments on the European Tour. Both men conspicuously keep their comments about the other to a minimum. They are, in fact, very different in many ways.

Ballesteros comes from the caddie yard, a boy who had to sneak on the golf course. Garcia comes from a course where his father was the pro, with full access to the facilities.

Whereas Ballesteros was forced to grow up quickly, Garcia has elongated his adolescence and is a young 27. After Europe's victory in the 2002 Ryder Cup, in which Garcia's exuberance almost exceeded even his excellent play, Jim Furyk said, "We lost to 11 gentlemen and one little boy."

Ballesteros dressed in the most basic and unimaginative clothing, favoring outfits in various and not necessarily complimentary shades of blue. Garcia is a vision in Technicolor, usually canary yellow, the color of the Spanish flag.

Ballesteros was always lost during his rare extended stays in America, stymied by his difficulty reading English and missing the Old World routines of his birthplace of Pedrena. He never took a part-time residence in the United States, and after much anticipation that he would play regularly on this year's Champions Tour, he played in only one event, the Regions Charity Classic in Birmingham, before deciding to retire. Garcia by contrast is fluent in English, has been a PGA Tour member since 1999, keeps a home in Lake Nona, Fla., to complement his permanent residence in Castellon, Spain, and has never said his commercials create a false impression.

Ballesteros has struggled to make himself a global brand. His golf course design company and other business interests are definitely small scale. Garcia is a big-time endorser with worldwide corporations.

As players, they are close to complete opposites. Whereas Ballesteros was, even in his prime, a wayward driver and prone to loose iron shots, Garcia has a reputation among his peers as the best ball-striker in the world. Ballesteros' swing was majestic but required a lot of hand action to square the club. The hallmark of Garcia's action is the Hoganesque position of his left wrist as it leads the shaft and club squarely through the hitting area with tremendous power. That difference is the reason Ballesteros had a short prime and Garcia should have a long one.

Conversely, Ballesteros is considered by many to have possessed the finest total short game in the game's history, and Garcia remains a work in progress in this crucial area. Although he is blessed with touch and wonderful skill around the greens, Garcia has for several years been one of the worst putters among the game's elite players.

To this point, Ballesteros ranks the far superior competitor. A fierce closer, he was that much more tenacious in majors, giving up the back-nine lead only at the 1986 Masters. Garcia, even as he has won 16 times (six of them in the U.S.), has shown a persistent fragility when in contention in the final round, most of it a result of his problems on the greens. He has ranked 61st in fourth-round scoring. At last year's Ryder Cup, Garcia was not, for the first time, the best player in the matches, winning all his team matches before losing to Stewart Cink in the singles. His assessment that he enjoyed team play more, to the point that he actually felt "lonely" in the singles, was telling. More alarming was his post-victory musing that "maybe some guys are made for major championships, like Tiger. Maybe I'm made for the Ryder Cup."

But Ballesteros was made for both the Ryder Cup and majors, and it seems Garcia is too good not to have that same capacity. And he made giant strides at Carnoustie.