Before the reigns came Torrance

IN FOCUS - BOB TORRANCE: John Hugganmeets the grizzled guru of swing who helped turn Pádraig Harrington into a double Open champion.

WALKING ONTO the 72nd green at Royal Birkdale, job done, the radiant smile was already fixed in place. The eyes though, were everywhere. Searching the crowd for the grey-haired gent in what the Scots call a "bunnet", Pádraig Harrington's gaze didn't rest until he found his coach, Bob Torrance. When he did, the even broader grin crossing the soon-to-be double Open champion's face was soon followed by an animated thumbs-up.

Such openly affectionate and public recognition was no more than the 76-year old Ayrshireman deserves, of course. Alongside the jobs done by David Leadbetter on Nick Faldo and Hank Haney with Mark O'Meara, Torrance's decade-long obsession with Harrington's swing has turned what appeared to be no more than a journeyman European Tour player into the world's third-ranked golfer.

"He had no leverage," shudders Torrance now, when he thinks back to the young Irish lad hitting balls at the Inverclyde Sports Centre "up the hill" from his home in Largs. "He hit the ball no distance. He was a poor striker. The flight on his shots had no penetration. But Pádraig was prepared to get worse in order to get better. Not many are."

In that respect, the pair are a perfect fit. Harrington arrived at Torrance's door with a short game that was already one of the best on tour and a deep determination to be a better ball-striker. All he needed was proper direction. As for the old coach, in Harrington he found the pupil he had waited all his life to teach.

"He's the hardest worker I have ever been involved with," says Torrance, whose student body includes European Tour players Paul McGinley, Stephen Gallacher and Alastair Forsyth. "I was with him in Ireland two weeks before the Open. We went to the range at 10.30am. It was raining heavily. Pádraig told me to watch him hit 'half a dozen' shots so we could work on any problems. We went back inside at 10pm!

"I love that in a golfer. Years ago I said to my wife, June, I would love to get a young man who is willing to work hard at his game. After Pádraig had been seeing me for about two months she told me I had found him. And that's why he has been so successful: his work-rate."

The same can be said of Torrance, of course. It is far from unusual for this near-octogenarian to spend as many as 12 hours standing on the range - "the salt mine," he calls it - at home, where the players, Harrington included, have to pick up their own balls, and at tournaments. His is a dedication that has seen this proudly working-class Scot, a former bricklayer whose father boxed for a living, become one of golf's most celebrated instructors, a man blessed with an intuitive understanding of just what makes a golf swing work.

"Bob has a tremendous insight into the game, without the need for video cameras or other gadgets," says McGinley. "Everything is instinctive with him."

It has been a long, hard road though. Not until his mid-teens did "Robert", as June always refers to him, hit a golf ball. As their only son, the former Ryder Cup player and captain Sam, is fond of saying, his father's early career back in the 1950s was a far cry from the glamorous lifestyles of today's leading coaches.

"There were no cashmere sweaters and Rolex watches back then," says the younger Torrance. "My dad wore overalls, drove tractors, cut greens and sold tees. When all that was done, he gave lessons."

PERHAPS EVEN more remarkably, in a world where communication is everything, Torrance has achieved all he has through an almost impenetrable Ayrshire accent that resembles nothing so much as the deep rumbling of thunder beyond some distant horizon. So indecipherable is it, when Sam was honoured on the television show This is Your Life, June did all the talking while Bob sat proudly but silently by her side.

"For the first two years we worked together, I didn't know what he was saying," laughs the former PGA champion Tony Johnstone. "Bob sounds like a Scottish-accented version of Rod Stewart."

All joking apart, however, almost everything Torrance has to say on golf is worth listening to, even if you have to listen carefully.

"The first really important part of the golf swing is the changeover between the backswing and the downswing," he explains. "It has nothing to do with the speed anyone swings at; but the speed at which it happens creates the tempo of that swing, whether it is fast or slow."

Neither is he above speaking his mind on subjects many others would be hesitant to touch. Although a huge fan of Tiger Woods, Bob is one of the few critics well enough qualified to sensibly question the world number one's style of play.

"There is a bit of the genius about Tiger that goes beyond his physical gifts," he says. "He gets up and down from places you just can't imagine. And it isn't as if he does it just now and then; it happens all the time.

"But my big reservation about his game is the number of fairways he misses. On a course that is tight and it gets a bit windy, I have a hard time seeing him win. I think he'll beat Nicklaus's record in the majors though. Because he won't let up until he does. That's one of the things I most admire about Tiger: his work-rate. He is so dedicated to all parts of this game. I love to see that."

An affinity for hard toil has always been a big part of the Torrance doctrine. Anything less will not be tolerated. Earlier this year he sent the World Cup winner Marc Warren packing after the young Scot failed to show the requisite commitment.

According to Torrance, Warren was more interested in "flashy cars and big houses" than in becoming a better golfer.

Bob doesn't discriminate either. Even Harrington isn't immune to the sharper edge of the Torrance tongue.

"I didn't agree with his decision not to play in the BMW PGA Championship at Wentworth back in May," he declares. "I told him that, as Open champion, he had an obligation to play in the European Tour's flagship event. But he didn't anyway."

Of course, a degree of healthy debate is something that has long been a regular part of the pair's interaction on and off the range.

"Pádraig is an ideal student, a perfect student," continues Torrance, "he doesn't agree with everything I say; but we don't argue about it. He lets me make my case. When I taught Seve, he would argue. Seve learned very little. Pádraig has learned a lot.

"He's extremely intelligent. He understands the big principles I learned from Hogan (Torrance doubles as golf's number-one Ben Hogan fan), but he's careful not to get lost in theory. He will work at a change until he gets it. Winning the Open has done nothing to diminish his desire to get better. I say to every player who comes to me, 'You must strive for perfection; you'll never reach it, but you must strive for it.'

"Pádraig does that. Now he hits the ball longer, with a great strike, and his swing is reliable under pressure. He knows his swing is good enough now, so he lets go. That's also because he's got balls. Big ones."

Harrington also has a soft centre. After holing out at Birkdale, he and Torrance embraced silently, neither able to speak. Not that such an unusual state of affairs lasted long. Sitting at home two days later, Torrance answered the telephone . . .

"Bob," said Harrington, "what should I be working on?"