Rest assured of one fact in life. However many streets there are around Anhausen, West Germany, the good folks who inhabit that tiny farming village northwest of Munich probably are not dancing in them.
Though Bernhard Langer shall soon return home wearing a green jacket that will never go with the red jump suit he wore Sunday–which was merely the finest day in all his 27 years–the fact that this blond lad won the 49th Masters at Augusta National will not set his town on fire. In Anhausen, they`ll still eat wiener schnitzel and still drink beer, but golf still puts everybody to sleep.
”It is not very big over there,” admitted Langer, after shooting a second consecutive 4-under-par 68 to capture the tournament by two strokes.
”We have only one public course in the country, the rest are private, and there are only about 100,000 players. I hope the reaction will be that a lot of youngsters will take the game up. Maybe this will help make golf more popular.”
Maybe. After all, when Langer won the German Open in 1981, he was the first German to win the event in 70 years. When German sportswriters voted for the outstanding athlete in 1984, Langer`s name wasn`t even whispered. When Langer was vying for the British Open title last July, his saga merited all of 40 minutes on TV in his native land, and that was tape-delayed in black and white.
”I don`t know if the Masters was on there today,” wondered Langer. It wasn`t. And of the 900-plus media members who flooded eastern Georgia this weekend, there was only one from Germany. And Guenther Marks of Hamburg admitted that, no, it wasn`t front-page stuff but, yes, Langer`s triumph would be worth more than the usual 10 lines in the local sheet.
Let it not be said, however, that Langer`s conquest constituted a major earth tremor, even if his initial victory in the United States happened to be a major. Golf`s inner circle has marveled at Langer`s considerable talents for some time, and, really it was just a matter of experience before this 5-foot- 9-inch, 155-pounder exploded into dimpled prominence. Many contemporaries bestow on Langer star-quality possibilities.
”I`m not surprised . . . . He`s one of the best players in the world,”
said Seve Ballesteros, the introverted Spaniard who was Langer`s playing partner Sunday. Such a bouquet might have been painful for Seve, because these two brilliant competitors have crossed swords often overseas, if not exchanged pleasantries. Simply put, they don`t particularly like each other.
Langer, unfailingly polite, and in excellent English, used a few moments of Sunday`s ceremony to soften remarks attributed to him. Something to the effect that if you don`t tell Seve how wonderful he is after every shot, Seve gets his nose out of joint. However, Langer`s correction sounded more like a further indictment of Ballesteros` moody ways.
”He just has great concentration,” related Bernhard. ”Even today, his caddy was his brother, and Seve wasn`t nice to him. He was even calling him names.”
Whatever, we may now all call Bernhard Langer a champion, and a worthy one. In 1981 and 1984, he led the Order of Merit, which is Europe`s money-earning list. Last season, his first dabbling in the American banking circuit, Langer entered only eight events and made off with $82,465, more than enough to satisfy his ravenous penchant for Jaguars.
”I drive one in Germany, and wherever I play in the United States, they give me one to use, too,” he said. Langer plans to perform in at least 15, and up to 20, PGA Tour shootouts this summer. He also has purchased a home, and another Jaguar, in Ft. Pierce, Fla., where he spends most of his free hours with wife Vikki, a Louisiana girl. If you saw Vikki, you would, too.
We should identify with Bernhard Langer for yet another reason. The man practically came out of the crib with an advanced case of the yips. Though he gravitated to caddying for ”pocket money” at age 8, and won his first of 17 pro tournaments at age 15, Langer has been a notoriously pedestrian putter. Great around the greens, self-destructive when he arrives. He, like all of us, changes grips and theories from hole to hole.
”I`d say 95 percent of my putting rounds have been disastrous in the past, but I`ve gotten better the last three or four years,” explained Langer. ”I am a good athlete in other sports. There is no reason I cannot learn how to improve my putting. I had too much tension in my arms. It was just a matter of time.”
Still, being understandably petrified of certain winding snakes, he often deliberates over the ball. At the recent Tournament Players Championship, he received a warning, then a $500 fine, for slow play. He was furious then, but Sunday, he was laughing.
”That`s why I wore a wristwatch today,” said Langer, the son of a bricklayer, now wearing a green jacket. The question now is not who`s the greatest German golfer ever, but who`s the second greatest?
”I don`t know,” said Langer, still smiling. That`s not his problem, and it doesn`t seem to bother the traditionalists at the Augusta National dining room, either. Next year, it`ll be bratwurst and grits, y`all.
