GOLF/British Masters: The year, 1988. The player, Sandy Lyle. In those days he was in his pomp; he won the US Masters in April and, a month or two later, came to Woburn and won the British Masters. He was acknowledged as one of the world's great players and, if anyone had said then that he would win only three more tournaments in Europe, that person would have been consigned to the men in white coats.
But that has been the way of it. Lyle first began to lose feel, then confidence, and before long had completely lost his way. It is now 10 years since he last won, when he took the 1992 Volvo Masters at Valderrama, beating Colin Montgomerie in a play-off.
But yesterday there were echoes, if not of Augusta or even Woburn '88, at least of the way he used to play. He put together a seven-under-par 65 which leaves him only four behind the leader, the Welshman Phillip Price.
Lyle and Price shared the day's lowest round, a welcome event for both. Price was pleased because he felt it earned brownie points with the Ryder Cup captain Sam Torrance; Lyle just wanted to be reminded of former glories.
"Today," said Lyle, "those little gremlins that get inside your swing and your mind were pushed aside and forgotten. There have been certain days during the last 10 years when I have felt like hanging up my shoes. But I didn't want to go out playing like I have been. I'd like to win another major."
And before the ho-hoing starts about that latter proposition, Lyle, now 44, reminded us that in 1986 he played the last round of the US Masters with a 46-year-old who won that championship, a certain J Nicklaus.
Where did yesterday's round come from? At Wentworth last week John Jacobs was walking past Lyle as he practised, and was asked: "What would you do to fade the ball a little more?" The venerable coach, hardly pausing, said: "Hands forward at address, open the shoulders a bit." Lyle did as he was told, got the desired results and, yesterday, the fruits of that little lesson.
On the vexed question of whether size matters, Ian Poulter is certain: it definitely does. The 26-year-old Milton Keynes man is nine under par, 135, and it is all down to cutting an inch off the top of his putter. He had 28 putts on Thursday, 27 yesterday.
After missing the cut in his past three events, Lee Westwood will at least be playing this weekend. The former European number one, the current number 99, had a round of 70 yesterday to be three under on 141, which is at least within sight of the leader.
After he had hit a second to the par-four third that passed over the flagstick and stopped 12 feet away, his caddie, Dave Renwick, walked from the centre of the fairway to the ropes to inform the press that his man was "playing good but putting like a dog".
Westwood, perversely, holed his birdie putt at the third and then hit a second at the fourth so fat and so short that the normally placid Englishman lobbed the offending club at his bag. He scrambled a par and then, at the fifth, managed to combine a great second, to four feet, with a good putt. Further birdies at the short sixth and long seventh made him safe, but still a long way from his old, commanding form.
Three of the leading Irish contenders ended up on a score of 143. Darren Clarke and Padraig Harrington shot 70s to add to their first-round 73s, but Des Smyth's challenge, ignited by a first-round 69, fell away with a 74 yesterday. Paul McGinley's 72 just kept him inside the cut, but Michael Hoey, who shot 78, lost out.
Guardian Service
