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Clarke goes from bitter to sweet Posted: Wednesday March 01, 2000 12:59 PM
The first time I met Darren Clarke was at the Volvo Masters in October of 1996, in Sotogrande, Spain. I was, I'm relatively certain, the first U.S. writer to scout Valderrama, and part of my assignment was to write about the young, unknown Europeans who had a shot at making the '97 Ryder Cup team. I focused on three -- Clarke; Padraig Harrington, who just missed qualifying for the team in '97 but who played courageously as a rookie in '99; and Alexander Cejka, a German with a rock 'n' roll hairdo and a swing that, supposedly, was sweet music. (Alex, if you're reading this, call the European tour. No one's heard from you in three years.)
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I caught up with Clarke right after he finished his undistinguished first round. He had three-jacked the 18th hole, never a good omen for an impending interview. I knew that Clarke had taken a couple-three weeks off prior to the tournament, and had heard that the weather back home in Northern Ireland was atrocious, so after shaking hands I offered that he looked a little rusty, perhaps because he hadn't been able to practice.
"It wasn't the weather, lad, that was the problem," he said, fixing me with one of his big, goofy grins. "It was too many pints of the bitter."
That, in a nutshell, is Darren Clarke. I think he's one of the most likeable guys in golf, and was a bit dismayed when all of the post-Match Play coverage focused on Tiger Woods. Clarke was simply brilliant in the final. It wasn't just that he rang up 12 birdies against one bogey. He pulled a Ben Hogan out there -- virtually every single shot was struck in the middle of the clubface. Clarke, 31, has always been a player of considerable promise; I think this can be a victory akin to David Duval's at Kingsmill in '97, providing a surge of confidence that propels him to the next level.
Sunday evening, Clarke was asked what he was going to do with the $1 million winner's check. "Spend it," he said, rather devilishly, and I'm quite sure he wasn't joking. His love of sports cars is well chronicled (at last count he is reputed to have two Ferraris and a Porsche), and along with his buddy, Lee Westwood, he owns a stake in a horse-racing syndicate. These factoids, along with his unrelenting cheerfulness, have led many to peg Clarke as a happy-go-lucky dude, and given rise to suspicions that maybe his kettle doesn't burn hot enough. In fact, the opposite is true.
One thing that has prevented him from winning more often is what he calls, charmingly, the "head-offs." That is, fits of explosive temper and roiling frustration that sabotage his game. Clarke's mentor, Colin Montgomerie, has been hectoring him for years to channel his emotions more effectively, and you'd have to say the message has sunk in.
Speaking of Monty, he said something to me a couple years ago that I'm finally ready to believe. I was at the Oxfordshire Golf Club, in England, covering the 1998 Benson & Hedges International Open, which Clarke won, going away. It was only Clarke's second Euro tour win since 1993 (he has since won two others), though his overall level of play was cresting. "The only person who can beat Darren Clarke," said Monty, "is Darren Clarke." A cliché, perhaps, but it rang true last week at the Match Play Championship.
Sports Illustrated golf writer Alan Shipnuck will take you On Tour each Wednesday at golfplus.cnnsi.com. Click here to send Alan a question or a nice, friendly comment.
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