Woosnam still hungry for success

Ian Woosnam is angry. Wife Glen is upset. Son Daniel is perplexed.

When one of Britain's greatest ever golfers is accused by critics of being overfed, overpaid and over the hill, it is a description of nobody they readily identify with.

And when Woosnam gets mad, he invariably gets even.

The days the fiery Welshman might have wanted to settle his grievances with fists toughened by tilling the land on his father's farm are behind him.

Woosnam has a more powerful weapon - a talent carefully nurtured and honed over 23 years pounding the world's fairways. He intends to use it.

"The fires of ambition still burn like hell inside," says Woosnam. "Otherwise why would I still be out there. After all, I don't need to be from a financial standpoint," he adds.

Woosnam is at a loss to understand why anybody should think his passion for the game has been diminished by past success and a multi-millionaire lifestyle. Nobody appreciates more what he has.

A beautiful home behind electronic gates on a long and winding road on Jersey, a wonderful family, a fleet of cars including a top-of-the-range Mercedes and E-type Jag, his own plane and pilot ... and a green jacket the envy of all who have been to Augusta and returned without one.

But the more Woosnam has, the more he wants.

"Why if I didn't would I fly to South Africa and Australia, Dubai and then San Diego?

"I've been round the world three times already this year and I haven't even started playing in Europe yet. If I didn't want it, do you think I'd still be doing it.

"Sometimes I'm so angry and disappointed about golf, I feel like going back to my room and smashing it up to get rid of all the frustration.

"I have to tell myself it's just a round of golf, that there are more things to life. But there again, it's another indication of how much I care."

Woosnam sits at the head of a dining room table polished to a mirror. He stops at nothing to emphasise his hunger for further success to add to that which has already brought 43 worldwide triumphs - second only to Neil Coles in the list of all-time British winners, a fact he is extremely proud of.

Few rooms in a house as elegant as it is tasteful are free of the occasional golf club, putter and balls. He is forever tinkering, swinging, searching.

Glen and the wives of guests for lunch have often been left mid-course as the men have rushed to the garage to see if a new idea is worth persevering with and to let a state-of-the-art Astar video machine analyse the swing.

Earlier this year he returned to Oswestry for four days just to see if lifelong friends and playing partners there could spot anything different about his approach, such was his determination to find the missing key to his game. Are these, wonders Woosnam, the acts of a player who has lost his desire.

"The only reason I am out there is to win. Talk about desire. I was a farmer's son with nothing. I had a talent, not the greatest, so it took a lot of work to get where I did. I doubt that anybody has worked as hard as I have... and I'm still working."

Woosnam reminds himself of the early days when he lived in the back of a Dormobile, felt wealthy if he had £30 in his pocket, three times went to qualifying school and had to be dissuaded by his parents from packing in and taking a club job.

"I wanted to be the best in the world, but it didn't look like I was going to do it," he recalls.

The work ethic was intensified even though there had already been times when he would return from the practice range with blood dripping from worn fingers and calluses so thick he could sole shoes with them.

Woosnam's reward was to become his nation's greatest, a year, 1987, when he needed almost all the fingers on both hands to count his wins, and in 1991 the world number one slot and US Masters title.

The youngest of Europe's big five Major winners - Seve Ballesteros, Nick Faldo, Bernhard Langer and Sandy Lyle were also born within a year of him - Woosnam had already discovered in the late '80s he was playing under severe handicap.

Medical specialists diagnosed spondylosis, a deterioration of the vertebrae which plagues him to this day and severely restricts the amount of time he can spend practising.

"I'll never forget the doctor's words. He said: 'You might be able to play for another 10 years, but in 10 years time you might also be in a wheelchair. It wasn't the sort of news I wanted."

Further and more recent scans have confirmed the initial diagnosis. Now Woosnam's fitness work is confined to swimming and his practice time is restricted.

"That's what's upsetting me - people thinking I don't practice enough. It's not because I don't want to it's because I can't.

"The more I practice the more I pay for it - half an hour is my limit. But back in the privacy of my room, I'm still at it - putting on the carpet, swinging the club from dawn to dusk, thinking about my swing 24 hours a day. That's how much I care.

"People who know me good enough, know I always want to win. I do get despondent now and again, but I'm convinced I can still win another major.

"It's going to be hard to get my swing in sync and my mind in the right place, but if I don't it won't be for the lack of trying or time consumed thinking about it.

"I'm at a stage where there are so many very good young golfers out there that if you can finish ahead of them then there is a great feeling of achievement. That's what I strive for.

"It's difficult when players are knocking it 40 yards past you, but you only have to look what Jeff Maggert did at the Andersen Consulting and Mark O'Meara last year to realise you don't have to be the longest hitter in the world."

Woosnam, naturally stocky at 5ft 4min, has never much worried about his weight because carrying a little excess baggage has helped with stability in the swing.

"Anyway, I'm just a few pounds heavier than when I was world number one, just the same as when I was winning all round the world and considerably lighter than when I knocked off two victories in successive weeks just over two years ago."

The 41-year-old's last significant success was at his beloved Wentworth in the European Tour's flagship event, the Volvo PGA Championship.

That and the 28 he shot for nine holes at the English Open last season, serve to convince Woosnam more is still to come. Glen Woosnam listens to her husband's words and nods. Only she knows how deeply criticism cuts.

"Something was written last week which upset us all very much," she says. "Daniel is away at school and he was ribbed by some of his friends about it and got upset.

"If we hadn't had so many good friends here and elsewhere, then I really don't know how we'd have got through the weekend. People just don't realise how much he puts into golf, how much he agonises over his own game.

"How can anybody write about his desire when they don't know him? It's just not fair."

A shoulder injury sustained lifting a suitcase from a carousel at Christmas has further hindered Woosnam's season and he is still uncertain when he will be fit enough to return."

Anxieties over his putting - "I've walked on to greens and felt as if I wanted to go into the bushes and be sick" - have steered him towards the broom handle.

"I don't know if you lose your nerve a bit when you get older or put pressure on yourself more, but switching to the long putter has meant me losing the shakes and the feeling of wanting to be sick," he says.

Still the fires rage. "I might look relaxed, but inside my guts are churning, my hands shake and my mind is going round in a spin. It's a wonder I'm not in a mental asylum. Golf does drive you nuts."

But it is impossible to be around the Woosnams long before there is laughter. Glen points out that I once told her Ian always played at his best when she was pregnant.

"Well I'm not prepared to try that cure," she says and the room echoes to a different sound.

The greatest noise Woosnam still hears is that of the applause as he walks on to the 18th green to be fitted for a new crown. It is a sound he knows he will hear again. Nothing will douse the fire.

TRW