Tiger Woods was unable to find the inspiration which once came so naturally . . . Nick Faldo moved to within one shot of the eventual winning score, then dropped three strokes in the closing four holes . . . Vijay Singh was all Fijian sunshine one moment, then tropical storm the next . . . Thomas Bjorn led by three with three to play but floundered in a bunker . . . and thus did Ben Curtis become Open champion at Royal St George's in 2003.
Who is this guy? demanded USA Today on the front page, the morning after the unknown villager from Ostrander, Ohio, had achieved sporting immortality. Many, quite wrongly, compared Curtis's improbable victory to that of Boris Becker winning Wimbledon as an unseeded 17-year-old in 1985, conveniently forgetting the German teenager had offered a tantalising glimpse of his powers 12 months earlier when he reached the third round, only to be carried off court with an injured ankle while playing the 14th-seeded American Bill Scanlon.
Curtis, despite an impressive career as an amateur, had arrived at Royal St George's unnoticed and unheralded, ranked a lowly 396th in the world. When he was handed the Claret Jug, it was like witnessing Joey Tribbiani receiving the Oscar for Best Actor. Now Curtis is poised to take another starring role when he makes his Ryder Cup debut as a 31-year-old rookie. Five years on from his unlikely Open victory, Curtis remains the homespun son of Millcreek Golf Course in Ostrander, the family owned municipal club where he learned his trade.
He is such an easy going, laid-back character that it is hard to imagine him coping with the pressure he must have felt that fateful Sunday morning in July 2003. "I was excited, sure, because I wanted to test myself, good or bad; I knew if I went out there and shot 80, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Maybe it was because I was two strokes back and not a couple of shots in the lead but I had told Candace [now his wife] the night before I was going to win. It was just a feeling I had, I've no idea where it came from, but I wish I could bottle it and keep it."
Although he was right up there near the top of the leaderboard, the golfing world were still asking "Ben Who?" at the start of the final round, a question that became ludicrously silly as, one by one, the recognised names began to find all manner of ways to self-destruct. "I was playing in the fifth-last pairing and, knowing level par or there-abouts would probably be good enough to win, set out to post the lowest possible score, then sit back to watch what unfolded."
What unfolded was the stuff of fantasy; three strokes ahead on the 16th, Denmark's Thomas Bjorn came to grief in a greenside bunker as Curtis cut a lonely figure on the practice ground, where he was preparing in the event of a play-off, having earlier sunk a stinker of a 10ft putt on the 18th for a four-round, one-under-par total of 283. "When did I know I'd won? Only when Thomas missed his chip at the last. He's such a great player I wouldn't have been the slightest bit surprised if he'd holed out, even from 70 yards.
"What was I thinking out there on the practice ground? I was trying not to think. I've been taught to hide my emotions, so I may not have looked like it on television, but I was shaking like a leaf." As Candace wrapped her husband-to-be in a warm embrace, she whispered: "I can't believe you just did that." "No, nor can I," came the tearful reply. "When you gather round the 18th for the trophy ceremony, it is a moment like no other. At the words 'Champion golfer of the year . . . Ben Curtis', my whole life flashed by.
"To be pushed on to that stage all of a sudden, the only thought that was in my mind was 'what have I just done?'" Life has never been quite the same since. There were many, including myself, who dismissed Ben Curtis is a one-hit wonder, an unknown member of the chorus-line who struck lucky when all the leading men broke an ankle. Then came a seventh place finish in the British Open at Royal Birkdale this summer followed by his joint second in the US PGA Championship behind Padraig Harrington which sent him soaring up the Ryder Cup points standings.
"That's why the game of golf is so good; just because you're ranked 200 or 300 in the world doesn't make you a bad player. True, I thought I'd need to play in 10, maybe 15 Majors before winning my first, but I know my name belongs on that trophy. Being Open champion is like being called Mr President after you've left the White House; I'll be an Open champion until the day I die and there are a lot of great players out there who can't say that.
"I've become a member of a very exclusive club and it's a real honour; I received three lovely letters of congratulations from Jack Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer and Gary Player. "That says a lot about them as true champions and great men. It's very humbling." Not that Curtis has taken to surrounding himself with fellow-champions; he may be a Major title-holder but he has not jettisoned his buddies on the US Tour to start swanning around with Tiger or Ernie.
"It's great suddenly being able to play with the best players in the world and have the chance to watch how they go about things up close, but I still hang out with old pals such as Andy Miller and Cameron Yancey. "After I won the Open they began joking around by bowing and the like for, as they said, 'heck, you couldn't make a cut two weeks ago and now we're having dinner with the Open champion.' "
Time will tell if Ben Curtis is deserving of his place among the golfing legends, but he is already as gracious as they come. @email:rphilip@thenational.ae