By kickntrue on 5/9/11

Spanish great Seve Ballesteros passed away over the weekend, at the way-too-young age of 54. For some reason, he always seemed older than that to me- maybe because I never remember him playing even though he seems he should be young enough for me to remember him doing so. It seems he achieved his greatness just a few years before I started caring at all about golf (I was 6 when he won the British Open in 1988). Anyway- this isn't about me- but his greatness- so I'll let others who do remember, share.

Golf.com's Michael Bamberger:

Seve is in the pantheon, in a special division with Young Tom Morris and Francis Ouimet and Bobby Jones and Se Ri Pak and Lee Trevino, groundbreaking golfers who introduced the game to remote places. Seve was the Arnold Palmer of Europe. Wherever he went in what is now the European Union, from British Opens played at St. Andrews to Italian Opens played in Sicily, Seve was beloved. Without Seve, there is no Jose Maria Olazabal, no Sergio Garcia, no Alvaro Quiros, to name three Spanish golfers who followed in his cleat steps. There’s no Costantino Rocca, no Francesco or Edoardo Molinari, no Matteo Manassero, to name four Italians. There’s no War by the Shore, as the 1991 Ryder Cup at Kiawah Island came to be known, without Seve. In fact there’s no modern Ryder Cup at all. There’s no Presidents Cup. There’s no Solheim Cup. There’s certainly no Seve Cup.

Peter Alliss in The Telegraph:

In the days before practice balls on the range you would hit your own and send your caddie down into the field to collect them.

Seve used to pride himself on the fact that he had 30, 40, 50 balls in good condition. If one of the other caddies pinched his ball he would run after him, the great Seve fighting over a second-hand golf ball. He would never lose a ball on the course. You stayed out there until you found it.

SkySports Ewen Murray:

I first met Seve when he was a teenager at the under 25 championship in Evian.

It was a practice round and this engaging Spaniard arrived on the first tee with some dodgy-looking shoes and minus the full compliment of clubs.

My first question was: who are you caddying for? "I am playing," was the reply.

After a few holes, I realized I was in special company and it was the beginning of a friendship that would last until his untimely death of such a brutal illness.

From what I've ready, Seve played with a chip on his shoulder, was entertaining to watch and the fans loved him for his brilliance and recklessness on the course. He was also cocky- because he knew what he could do.

Here's to hoping Seve is now at peace- free from his debilitating disease and enjoying the perfectly manicured greens and fairways up in the Big House.


photo source