There's so much one can say about Seve Ballesteros.
His singular place in golf history had been established long before his death today, based on a winning combination of quantifiable factors... like
five major championships and a
20-12-5 Ryder Cup record... and more abstract elements;
imagination, astounding artistry, swashbuckling fearlessness, and
a rare generosity.
Death is a fact of life. Such an inevitable one that we often manage to be pragmatic about it, even where our closest friends and relatives are concerned. In the case of this passing however, I see very little pragmatism. Players, officials and fans have reacted with visible emotion. Perhaps in part because Seve Ballesteros had come to represent the idea of
endless possibilities, and that's a wonderful thing to believe in, especially for a golfer.
The silver lining... and with Seve, of course there's going to be a silver lining ... is that he'll continue to inspire golf greatness... and passion for the game. As the sport grows globally his name will continue to evoke everything that's exciting and appealing about golf. Hasta siempre.
The Springtime of a Dashing Young Spaniard
(a post I wrote last month just prior to the Masters)
Golf meant nothing to me growing up. Which may seem strange when you consider that my first twenty years were spent in Greenwich, CT, where cloistered country clubs... and the golf courses within them... are almost as ubiquitous as the fine restaurants and expensive emporiums that line the town's main shopping street.
However, Greenwich is a coastal community, and I spent my summers sailing on Long Island Sound. Sunfish regattas and Laser racing... the splashing, speed and billowing spinnakers... seemed so much more exciting to me than the deliberate-looking game that took place beyond the trim hedges of those back country bastions.
