Winning easier for Olazabal than getting there

Looking at Jose-Maria Olazabal walk up the 18th towards a second US Masters title here on Sunday, playing partner Greg Norman could hardly credit how natural the whole thing seemed. He found himself thinking: "It's as easy as that; he's won the tournament." Given his own horrendous disappointments in pursuit of this coveted title, one could readily understand Norman's bemusement. So it was that, while expecting something special, he had failed to recognise that the mark of greatness is to make things look easy.

Yet, here was a classic case in which the destination was immeasurably more pleasurable than the journey. Indeed it would be hard to imagine a more physically demanding route to "major" success since Ben Hogan's US Open triumph of 1950, a year after an almost fatal car accident.

I remember a phone call to his genial manager, Sergio Gomez, back in December 1996, when he gave me the momentous news that Olazabal had returned to the driving range the previous day. "It's amazing the progress Jose-Maria has made," he enthused.

"If someone didn't know about his illness, they wouldn't notice anything strange about the way he is now walking. Sure, there were other times when thing looked bright, but this time is different. I am so heartened that if things keep going the way they are, I think he should be playing competitively again in early March, probably in Dubai."

The comeback had begun and a great talent was about to be restored to the game. It was a talent which, at Muirfield Village in 1987, had formed an irrepressible Ryder Cup partnership with compatriot Seve Ballesteros, which would become the fearsome Spanish Armada.

It was Ballesteros who left a note on his locker at Augusta on the final day in 1994, assuring him he could win "because you are the greatest player in the world". Olazabal regrets having mislaid that note, but there were other good wishes before this latest triumph, including advice from Gary Player at the champions' dinner last Tuesday night and a message from Darren Clarke.

Meanwhile, the sort of ease which Norman observed masked the high tension which had taken hold early in the day. "I got to the club about 12.30 and putted until 1.15, maybe 1.20," Olazabal said. "And then I went to hit a few chips until 2.0, which was an hour before my tee-off time.

"I went upstairs to eat something but obviously my stomach didn't want that. I couldn't eat. I couldn't swallow, not even water. And after that, I just went to hit a few balls before I teed off."

When he first played in the Masters as an amateur in 1985, Olazabal shot rounds of 81 and 76 to miss the cut. He also missed the cut on returning as a professional the following year.

But when Ballesteros became his mentor, the gifted young man from Fuenterrabia was made to realise that he had the necessary tools for Augusta success. Granted, they badly needed sharpening, but one day they would deliver a rich dividend.

Those tools are a wonderful iron game and a solid, productive putting stroke. Like his mentor, Olazabal had the touch of a genius around the greens. But even he had to learn the very special, short-iron skills that are demanded around Augusta.

Like in 1991, when he took a seven at the short sixth during the second round. After pushing his tee shot to the bottom of the mound guarding the right side of the green, he tried to finesse a chip close to a treacherous pin placement - and twice saw the ball come back to him. Even after that quadruple-bogey, he went on to claim second place, only a stroke behind the winner, Ian Woosnam. And, as he was consoled by another leading challenger, Tom Watson, Olazabal learned that Augusta had the capacity to inflict much pain before bestowing hard-earned favours.

But as Norman has discovered, success is not necessarily guaranteed simply because an aspirant pays his dues. When he and Olazabal hugged each other on the final green, the Spaniard whispered to him: "Keep hanging in there. You'll get it."

Moment's later, in the scorer's hut behind the green, Olazabal said: "I told Greg to keep trying, because `You deserve this jacket and hopefully you will get it'."

It is quite possible Norman will make the long-awaited breakthrough, now that he appears to have fully recovered from shoulder surgery 12 months ago. But there is no escaping his extraordinary facility for self-inflicted errors at the most critical moments.

The term self-inflicted seems more appropriate than unforced, as these problems tend to occur directly after serious pressure is applied by a rival. As on Sunday, when Olazabal clearly stunned him by following the Shark's eagle at the long 13th with a birdie to leave them tied on seven under par.

Norman's response was to block his tee-shot into the crowd at the next, which he went on to bogey. He then made the crucial error of failing to reach the putting surface with a sandwedge approach at the long 15th, where sand led to another bogey. In both cases, Norman betrayed an old failing under pressure: allowing his body to get in front of the shot.

No player has a greater capacity for generating drama on the golf course, as he proved with an extraordinary bogey at the 12th on Saturday, with a second ball. But in the heat of battle on Sunday, it was clear he lacked the clear-thinking, tactical brilliance of the 33-year-old Spaniard.

During the final round, Olazabal drove the ball an average of 253 yards, compared with 268 from Norman. And he had 27 putts, compared with 28 from the Shark. So, it can be seen that the essential difference between the two was the quality of their iron play.

Yet the Shark was clearly the crowd's favourite, to the point where even the Spaniard's most spectacular shots hardly raised a ripple of applause. For instance, his caddie, Brendan McCartain, couldn't believe the reaction at the short 16th, where he hit a stunning six-iron to three feet.

"It was quiet, wasn't it?" he suggested. "He only hit it to three feet. That probably wasn't close enough for them." Typically, Olazabal was unconcerned.

At one stage during the summer of 1996, the pain in his feet became so intense that he was reduced to crawling on his hands and knees just to go to the bathroom. That was before Dr HansWilhelm Muller-Wohlfahrt, a Munich specialist in locomotion, discovered his problems had to do with several misplaced vertebrae pinching the nerves of his lower back, rather than with the earlier diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis.

"Without him, I wouldn't be standing here," he said, before departing for his home in San Sebastian, where he was expected last night for celebrations with his family. "I think I won the tournament because of him."