Ian Baker-Finch is 40 today. It is an age when Jack Nicklaus captured his 16th and 17th major professional titles, when Christy O'Connor was runner-up to Peter Thomson in the 1965 British Open and when Mark O'Meara had his 13th and 14th victories on the USPGA Tour.
The older players who are being forced to head for the tour schools in Europe and the US next month will think about Baker-Finch. They will be acutely aware of how a sparkling career went into irreversible decline, forcing the amiable Australian to look to television as the only route towards continued involvement in the game.
Baker-Finch joined the ABC network as part of their golf commentary team in 1997 and his distinctive, antipodean tones have since become familiar to television audiences on both sides of the Atlantic. Since making that decision, his only competitive round of golf was a 92 on the opening day of the British Open at Royal Troon that year, when Justin Leonard captured the title.
Naturally, the Australian was exempt then. Indeed those players bound for the tour schools must be seriously envious of the fact that, as winner of the 1991 British Open at Royal Birkdale, he retains exempt status until the end of next year.
Nor does he need to concern himself unduly about his next square meal. Though he hasn't played in the US since 1997, career earnings there come to a sizeable $2,078,743 including a cheque for $180,000 as winner of the Colonial Tournament of 1989. And contrary to common belief, things didn't immediately fall apart after he had won the British Open.
The fact is that in 1992, he finished second and had three top-10s in the US on the way to 58th in the money list for a reward of $261,817. But alarm bells began to ring the following year, when he slipped to 114th with relatively modest earnings of $140,621.
In view of what was to come later, it seemed bitterly ironic that 1994 should have produced his second top-10 finish in the US Masters. As it happened, he was a model of consistency, shooting three successive 71s before a closing 74 pushed him down to a share of 10th place behind Jose-Maria Olazabal.
The handsome, 6ft 4ins Australian, had made his first significant impact on a major championship 10 years previously. That was in the British Open at St Andrews where, referred to rather disparagingly as Ian Baker-Who, he was tied with the favourite, Tom Watson, after 54 holes, only to collapse to a crushing 79 on the final day. His troubles started as early as the first, where his approach shot spun back into the Swilcan Burn.
It proved to be an extremely valuable lesson. "I cried for about an hour after that 79," he said, while savouring victory at Royal Birkdale seven years later. "After that, I forgot about it." Then, as the tears began to flow again, he went on: "This time I can't stop myself because this is the world championship. It's the most important of them all. I was prepared to give everything I'd ever won before for this old claret jug."
In the event, he did it in style. With a stunning outward journey on the final day, he reached the turn in 29 to be one of only 10 players to do so in an Open. And he came back in a comfortable 37 for a closing 66 and an aggregate of 272, two strokes clear of compatriot, Mike Harwood. Eamonn Darcy was tied fifth after a closing 70.
It must now be a source of some pain for him to re-read his comments about the inward journey that day. "I've been playing such good golf recently, I told myself to just carry on playing it," he said.
As with so many other unfortunate players through the years, injury wouldn't allow him to carry on playing as he believed he could. By 1995 he had reached a crisis point. After making only six cuts out of 20 starts in the US the previous year, he now drew a complete blank, largely because of recurring shoulder and back problems.
He took six weeks off from April to mid-May that year, when he didn't touch a club. But the decline persisted. First there was a missed cut in the US Open at Shinnecock Hills, where he had miserable rounds of 83 and 82, and he suffered the ultimate indignity at St Andrews a month later, achieving the seeming impossible, by driving out of bounds left, on the first hole.
This meant hitting the ball more than 100 yards off line. In simple terms, he had developed the yips with the driver, whereby he couldn't be sure of where the ball was going to go. By the end of that year, he had not made a cut since the NEC World Series of the previous season - a total of 20 events.
There was a glimmer of hope in 1996, when in February, he played four rounds in the Canon Challenge on the Australian Tour - his first cut anywhere in 16 months anywhere in the world. And a 68 in the second round of the Byron Nelson Classic became his first sub-70 score since the Walt Disney Tournament of 1994.
But it proved to be a false dawn. His only appearance of 1997 was at Troon, where he called a halt to the pain at the end of the first day.
He has not played in an Open since then, though he appeared in the special Champions' Challenge at St Andrews last July when the Old Course humbled him once more, this time with an out of bounds right at the first. But it must be said that through all of the torment, Baker-Finch handled himself with extraordinary dignity, enhancing his status as a much-admired figure in the game. Judging by the sound of his voice on television, life would appear to be good for him once more. We wish him a happy birthday: he deserves it.
