IT IS not the sort of wholesome image that everybody's friend, Tom Lehman, would wish to carry into 1997, particularly with so many of the game's coveted awards on his sideboard. Yet I seem to be stuck with a television scene from 14 months ago when he snapped the shaft of a five iron across his knee in an outburst of frustration.

The tournament was the end-of-season Kapalua International in Hawaii, a non-tour event in which he happened to finish in a share of fifth place behind Jim Furyk. Somehow, the destruction of the errant club seemed to sit ideally with the tough-guy image of the man in Dockers gear, baseball cap and all.

But the real Tom Lehman is very much a gentler soul, who can hardly credit his good fortune at being at the top of his chosen craft. "That's why I consider it so important to have my priorities right," he said, when we talked recently.

Looking towards a new year, the 37-year-old from Minnesota is acutely aware that his 1996 achievements will be extremely difficult to follow. "I've come to realise that life isn't always fair," explained the born-again Christian. "Good things happen; bad things happen and if you have the right perspective, you can roll with the punches. I think my closeness to my God helps me to do this."

After winning the USPGA Tour Championship last October, he went on to take the top prize of $400,000 in the PGA Grand Slam involving the winners of the season's four major championships. Then came the Arnold Palmer award for heading the official money list with a record $ 1,780,159, surpassing the target of $1,654,959 set by Greg Norman the previous year. He also earned the PGA Player of the Year Award, along with the Byron Nelson Award and the Vardon Trophy for his stroke average.

"So much has happened that I haven't really had time to think about it," he admitted, with understandable bemusement. "It seemed like I was just going from one tournament to the next - from the Tour Championship to the Grand Slam and then to the World Cup and then Sun City.

"It's been a wonderful year - particularly the British Open. Lytham was really special, definitely - if only for that one thing." Then, a distant dreamy look came into his eyes as he added: "That walk up the 18th hole and the entrance to the final green. Nothing can top that in golf, I don't care where you're playing or what you're winning." Perhaps the most significant aspect of Lehman's triumph was that he had succeeded, where no American professional had done before. Not even Jack Nicklaus, who squandered a glorious chance of victory in the 1963 Open, had managed to lay the Lytham bogey. Consequently the only American winner there before Lehman was the incomparable amateur, Bobby Jones, in 1926.

When Christy O'Connor Snr was at the peak of his powers he was admired or feared, depending on one's perspective, for the ability to stamp his authority on a tournament with a stunning third-round score. So its was that when tournaments were given Sunday finishes, Saturday became known as "moving day", when O'Connor would place one hand on the winning cheque.

For his part Lehman had some remarkable moving days during 1996, like his 67s in the Players' Championship and the MCI Classic. But the first one to really make an impact was his third-round 65 in the US Open at Oakland Hills, where he fought out a wonderful duel for the title with his friend Steve Jones, only to lose with a bogey on the last.

Then came his course record 64 in the third round of the British Open and another 64 which gave him an unassailable 54-hole lead in the Tour Championship three months later. Naturally, Irish observers will have particularly vivid memories of the manner in which his Lytham effort crushed the hitherto heroic challenge of his playing partner, Paul McGinley. While the American surged into a six-stroke lead over the field, McGinley slipped backwards with a disappointing 74.

The previous record at the celebrated Lancashire venue was a 65 established by Scotland's Eric Brown and Argentia's Leopold Ruiz during the 1958 Open-and equalled by O'Connor Snr in 1969 and by Bill Longmuir (1979) and Seve Ballesteros (1979 and 1988). And the 64 was also only a stroke away from the Open record of 63. But his 54-hole total of 198 set a new target for the championship, a stroke lower than Nick Price's effort at Turnberry in 1994.

"That 64 was definitely one of the best rounds I've ever played, if not the best," he said. "I just felt comfortable all day, especially with the putter. Those kind of rounds just happen. You begin to sense that things are going your way and you just hope you can keep going forward.

"I'm afraid it was a lot different for Paul (McGinley). I had never met him before and he told me it was his first time in that sort of situation - as joint leader of the British Open. I could tell he was nervous but I remained focused on the job I had to do.

"Paul had a poor start, which didn't help his cause. Meanwhile, my caddie, Andy Martinez, who had worked with Johnny Miller, kept telling me how it was with Johnnie when he got to five under. How he would be thinking of getting to six and then to seven. And from my own experience, I knew how Paul must have been feeling." Then, with a smile: "But at the end of it all I know he enjoyed the walk up the 18th, with people showing their appreciation for the way he had tried."

LEHMAN went on:

"I played with Paul again two months later, in the Smurfit European Open at The K Club, and it didn't surprise me that he had won the Austrian Open in the meantime. I was delighted for him. He's a fighter and anyone with that sort of attitude deserves to do well."

Despite those generous comments, one sensed that Lehman didn't want to leave Lytham just yet, as he continued: "The fact that I had my dad (he had first taught his son to play golf when he was five years old) there, really added to the occasion. My one regret is that my wife wasn't present, but she was tied up with a family commitment: her sister-in-law was having a baby.

"Then there was the victory ceremony which I remember as if it were yesterday. I like to think of myself as a tough competitor but in that situation I just crumpled up with emotion. It's hard not to feel really sentimental, particularly with so much pride involved for your family.

"But I suppose the most gratifying thing about Lytham was the way it contrasted with the pattern of my career - getting as low as I could possibly go and then climbing back up." That seemed to guide his thoughts towards trying times, eight and nine years ago, when he sought desperately to reshape his career on the far-off fairways of South Africa.

"Back in 1988 South Africa was kind of blackballed," he recalled. "It was nice to see the changes when I returned there in November for the World Cup. In fact, it was interesting to have been there in both situations. The first time we came we were wondering about apartheid but after spending a few months, we thought it was a great country. We met so many good people of all races. But there were also problems playing in a strange land."

He explained: "On that first visit, I was down to play in an event at Palabora. I called the tournament office to find out where the qualifying was and they told me it was at the tournament site. So I got to Johannesburg where I hired a car and drove seven hours to Palabora. Then I got up the next morning to see about getting in a practice round before qualifying.

"I was surprised to discover, however, that there wasn't a sinner on the golf course. I thought this was quite strange, so when I went into the golf shop and asked where everybody was, they told me that the qualifying was back in Johannesburg. Then I got back into the car and drove seven hours back to Johannesburg and got there about one in the morning.

"I eventually reached the golf course the next day and because I hadn't even registered at that stage I wasn't in the draw." After a hearty laugh he continued: "I had to beg them and they gave me - the very last starting place - at about 3.40 in the afternoon. So I gave them my entrance fee and my registration fee and proceeded to shoot a round of 75 and missed (the cut) by a couple.

"I don't remember what it cost me but all I know is that things were a lot cheaper then. It was an interesting introduction to South Africa: 14 hours driving, sometimes on dirt roads in the bush. Pretty but not exactly what I had in mind."

THE K Club seemed very much more to his liking, particularly after two very enjoyable challenges in the European Open.

"I was talking to the tournament guys last September and they were telling me about the possibility of a change of date in 1997," he said.

"I've since heard that they've got the change but unfortunately it clashes with the World Series. I guess you know where I have to be." Then came another of those warm smiles that reveal the true nature of the man: "I suppose there's no chance of them getting another date at this stage?"

So, Lehman won't be back in Ireland this year. Without being told, he was aware that the Murphy's Irish Open would again be run against the Western Open at Cog Hill, Chicago. "I like that course (Cog Hill) a lot, so I'm afraid that's out too," he said. "But there will be other years. My wife and I really loved it at The K Club and we would be delighted to return there if the opportunity arises in the future.

Interestingly, he will be playing in the World Invitational at Loch Lomond on the week after Druids Glen, before defending the British Open crown at Royal Troon. Lehman made his British Open debut at Turnberry in 1986 and played again at Muirfield the following year, missing the cut on both occasions.

After that, however, he didn't return until 1990 at St Andrews, so this will be his first experience of Troon, where compatriot Mark, Calcavecchia captured the title in 1989. But while accepting the inevitable pressures of winning, his golfing ambitions go beyond a successful defence of the British Open.

"Obviously I haven't accomplished all my goals and so long as I remain realistic, there's an internal drive that's going to push me forward," he said. "When I stop feeling that push - it will be time to quit. In the meantime I don't like to think too much about what I've achieved, for fear of putting pressure on myself.

"Sure, things are certainly great at the moment but as a competitive sportsman, it's natural for me to expect more and more of myself. And as any of the leading players will tell you, there's always a certain feeling of insecurity until you nail down the first victory of a new season.

Still, I suggested to him that his recent success and consequent wealth had brought some rather obvious compensations - like not having to worry about the bank manager. This time, the laugh was especially hearty.

"That's true, that's true," he replied. "But wherever you are, life has its own sorts of pressures. When you're broke you're worried about making money. When you have money you're worrying about making the wrong investment, or losing it some other way. So you follow your instincts, trust in God and hope that things will work out.

An innate modesty precluded him from adding that he will almost certainly be making many more friends along the way - even when his clubs don't behave as intended.