New deal for last year's main men

Rather than quietly slither out of his hands, the silver claret jug crashed with an almighty bang

Rather than quietly slither out of his hands, the silver claret jug crashed with an almighty bang. No dents to the trophy, just to one man's pride. Paul Lawrie, solemn and earnest, is no longer champion and he stands in front of the R and A clubhouse and tries to contemplate the cards that the golfing gods are handing out to him lately.

Of anyone, Lawrie shouldn't be surprised by the vagaries of fate. Exactly 20 minutes later, in a spot not five yards away, the man who should have lifted the title 12 months ago in Carnoustie is holding court. Jean Van de Velde doesn't have a sour puss, just that ever-present glint in his eyes. The one that suggests mischief isn't too far off.

Irony of ironies, on the day that Lawrie hands back the claret jug, Van de Velde is in a position to succeed him as British Open champion. By contrast, the last champion of the old millennium is contemplating packing his bags and heading up the motorway to his home.

"I don't normally watch much golf on television, but I'll probably watch a little on Sunday . . . just to see who wins," said Lawrie. "I'm more concerned with my own putting, and I might just find somewhere to work on that."

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Van de Velde may not win, but at least he has given himself the chance. He's not going home just yet.

A year since he stood in the Barrie Burn like a schoolkid splashing about on Dollymount strand, the Frenchman knows that destiny has a funny way of revealing itself: "I don't know how far behind I'll be at the end of the day. It could be three, four or five shots, maybe more, but there are still 36 holes to go and things can change . . . in fact, I know that things can change with one hole to go."

The court jester just can't stop cracking jokes at his own expense. Yet, underneath the jocular exterior lies a man with some steel. Yesterday, in carving a second-round 68 for five-under-par 139, Van de Velde fell victim to the notorious Road Hole bunker. On this occasion he calmly accepted his bogey five and followed up by playing the 18th hole to perfection: drive, sand-iron to 10 feet. One putt. Birdie. Thank you very much.

"I feel energised here this week. The past six weeks took a lot out of me, and sometimes you think `where's the oxygen?' I was really on my knees, really drained, before going down to the south of France for a couple of days last week.

"But I've got an injection of energy since I came here. One year has gone by (since Carnoustie) and of course I think about what happened. I got pretty close, got myself into position. But there is only one British Open every year and you have got to give it everything you have," said Van de Velde.

Yesterday morning, Van de Velde was up at 6.10 a.m. - "Too early, I kept pushing back the time as much as I could," he said - to prepare for his second round. He can have a lie-in before today's third round. So too can Lawrie, but it is one he'd rather not have.

In the end, he relinquished his grip on the claret jug in a tame manner. Since taking the title after a three-way four-hole play-off that also involved Van de Velde and Justin Leonard (who also survived the cut yesterday, on the mark), Lawrie has changed many things and suffered them too. He changed caddie and clubs, and then had a four-week lay-off because of a groin injury.

Most of all, though, he is suffering on the greens. Yesterday's 75 for nine-over-par 153 included 37 putts. On Thursday, his round featured 40 putts. For a player known (in the past) as a good putter, it's a frustrating exercise every time he stands over a putt. "I feel as if they'll all go in. When Adam (Hunter) takes video footage of me putting, everything seems to be in order."

Professional golfers tend to be a strange breed, almost as if they have to go into denial if any part of their game is suspect. Yesterday Lawrie typified this sense of denial. A year ago, he won the British Open. Yesterday, he missed the cut by a country mile. And still he stands in the sunshine and insists that his "swing has improved immensely. I'm technically better and I hit more greens and fairways than I used too."

He looks back on the year and claims that it was fantastic. "I'd like obviously to get it back . . . next year," said Lawrie. As for 2000? Well, Van de Velde wouldn't mind taking centre stage all over again.

Philip Reid

Philip Reid

Philip Reid is Golf Correspondent of The Irish Times