While Americans and Europeans brace for this autumn`s Ryder Cup match that is supposed to resolve their world-class debate about golf superiority, here`s a thought. Where exactly does Australia rank in the international pecking order?
The question couldn`t be more timely, because a 30-year-old chap born Down Under, Ian Baker-Finch, cut through Royal Birkdale this weekend like a squall from the Irish Sea. After shooting 64 to tie for the lead entering the final round, Baker-Finch returned Sunday with a 66 to win the 120th British Open by two strokes.
If there were 50,000 spectators flooding this original stadium course on a shirt-sleeve afternoon, all but a few felt in their hearts and their heads that Seve Ballesteros would pull the trigger to claim his fourth Open title. He all but promised as much, warning furtively that his position just two shots off the pace might scare a roster of lesser contenders into rigor mortis. Certainly, Seve commanded the biggest and best of amenities. Respect, audience, highly vocal support.
But Baker-Finch, who confessed to being rattled when paired with British hero Nick Faldo in last July`s closing twosome at St. Andrews, didn`t blink. Two groups behind the Spaniard`s armada, Baker-Finch birdied three of his first four holes, went out in 29, and smiled throughout his finest day of golf ever. An hour into the round, the only issue to be settled was the identity of the runner-up, and by how much. It wasn`t Seve, but Mike Harwood, an Aussie who plays primarily in Europe.
Consider this. If Greg Norman, for all his frustrations, rides the fast lane alone in his Ferrari, there`s a caravan of fellow Aussies leaving some serious exhaust fumes. Wayne Grady, Americanized in Florida, won last August at the PGA Championship, one of golf`s four majors. Steve Elkington, who left home to attend the University of Houston, last March took the Players Championship, which someday could be deemed a fifth major on quality of field. Now, Baker-Finch snares the grandest prize of the bunch, and with clinical precision yet.
The Aussies are of stern stuff because they have to be. They lead the league in rubber chicken eaten at 30,000 feet. Their tour isn`t enough. To be really good, a golf professional Down Under really must be gone. Peter Thomson fastened his seat belt and took five British Opens between 1954 and 1965. Kel Nagle won in 1960. Then Bruce Devlin and Bruce Crampton and David Graham traveled. The Aussies are no strangers to wind, because most of their cities are coastal. The Aussies also proudly but politely contend that their courses are as difficult as any on the planet. Nothing scares them, and that includes adapting.
Baker-Finch is right there in that equation. At 12, he secured his first set of clubs. At 15, he decided that golf was his calling. He left the family farm some 60 miles from Brisbane, won three events in Japan, did Europe and in 1988, went to the United States. He`s a millionaire on the American PGA Tour, though his only victory is the 1989 Colonial, and he`s among Orlando`s Bay Hill gang that includes U.S. Open champion Payne Stewart. Mark O`Meara, Baker- Finch`s partner Sunday, lives only a mile or so away.
A dashing figure at 6-4, Baker-Finch appears to be mostly legs, not necessarily the textbook configuration for a golfer. But his swing is dead solid perfect, he`s straight if not breathlessly long, and with putter in hand, the guy`s dauntless. There aren`t many flaws in Baker-Finch`s game plan, on or off the course. You want to clear out a locker room with dispatch, utter an unkind adjective about him. The pro tours on either side of the Atlantic have their cliques and petty complaint departments, but Baker-Finch gets all votes as a prince.
”The knock on me has been that I don`t have the killer instinct, that I`m too nice and not mean enough,” he said. ”Well, I`m not a mean person and I`ll never be. You can`t make yourself mean. What I wanted to become was tougher, able to focus more on what I`m doing out there and see my way through all the distractions.”
In the final round at Royal Birkdale-indeed, for the entire tournament-Baker-Finch had the presence to hit most every ball pure and enjoy himself, too. His only breakdown occurred at the trophy presentation, where Baker-Finch`s charisma met its equal in the moment.
”Pretty tough to talk while you`re crying,” said the champ. Otherwise, it was a very g`day, mate.
