FOR a player of his talents it was sadly inadequate to be acknowledged largely as the conscience of the professional game. But that seemed to be the only way Tom Watson could make headlines in recent years, until a glorious climax to the Memorial Tournament last Sunday saw him gain his first USPGA victory since 1987.

It was a triumph that brought great joy not only to Watson, but to his countless admirers throughout the world of golf. Indeed his great rival, Jack Nicklaus, was moved to comment: "I honestly believe that for me, it was the most thrilling win in 10 years, even from my standpoint, from when I won the Masters in 1986."

More than anything, it was a triumph of the spirit. After countless attempts at trying to convince a doubting public that he could overcome putting problems his way, the traditional way, Watson was eventually vindicated. And one could see the pain of repeated failures disappear in his boyish delight when a 15-foot winning putt found the target.

It was the same, treacherous green where Ireland's Eamonn Darcy had gained a priceless point in the 1987 Ryder Cup matches. On that occasion, it was a five-footer, downhill and left to right, which ultimately dispatched Ben Crenshaw and paved the way for an historic European victory.

Nine years on, Crenshaw, the finest putter in the game, made a point of talking to Watson after the third round last Saturday, when he led by a shot from Ernie Els. "I told him the same thing that I had said to him 15 times before - `I'm with you'," he said.

Even when he was still winning, Watson never hesitated to speak his mind on issues he believed were crucial to the integrity of the game. For example, when in the 1983 Skins Game he called Gary Player a cheat for allegedly removing a rooted stem from behind his ball. Or last winter, when, on Australian television, he spoke of dishonesty on the US Tour, saying of the culprits: "We know who they are."

In the meantime, he was one of the few professionals to speak out against discrimination at Shoal Creek on the occasion of the 1990 USPGA Championship. The same year, he publicly withdrew from the Kansas City Country Club when they refused membership to Henry Bloch, a Jew. The club later invited Bloch to reapply, with the result that Watson renewed his membership last summer.

Two years ago, he wrote a formal complaint to Augusta National over CBS commentator Gary McCord's use of the term "bikini wax" to describe the way the greens were mowed at the Masters. The upshot was that McCord was barred from the 1995 commentary team and has yet to be restored to the fold. And he has repeatedly criticised the US Golf Association for its lack of equipment regulation on golf balls and long putters.

Did he consider himself to be the conscience of the game? "There is no agenda that Tom Watson has," he replied. "If I believe in something, if it's important, I'll speak out."

His failure with the putter would have broken lesser men. One recalls the 1994 AT&T at Pebble Beach where he had the tournament in his grasp only to three-putt the 70th and 71st greens and then leave a five-footer short of the target on the last. That same year, he was in contention for the Masters (13th), US Open (tied 6th) and British Open (tied 11th), but shot a final round of 74 in each of them.

Indeed that same figure returned to grieve him in the final rounds of the Bay Hill Invitational and the Freeport McDermott Classic at New Orleans in March of this year. "Generally my last rounds were pitiful," he admitted. "Mostly, it was the inability to get the ball in the cup when I really had to. Of course, the nerves take over when you're under pressure and they took over too many times.

Like Nicklaus, Watson would always assure the golfing media that if he got into a winning position, he would know how to finish the job. Small matter that he won the 1992 Hong Kong Open: it was only last Sunday that, after repeated failures, the putter allowed him to do justice to supreme competitive instincts.

"The beauty and the agony of the game is that some days it's so easy and other days it's so tough," he admitted. "I have always had the ability to come back from a bad hole with a good hole and from a bad tournament with a good tournament."

He went on: "My game has kind of flip-flapped. I used to kind of spray the ball and chip and putt the eyes out of the hole. Now it's kind of the opposite.

"When I was putting well, I won a lot (40 tournaments including eight majors). How many times have I won not putting well? So what is the most important part of the game?"

Observers would readily see the difference in Watson's play. He continued to hit the same number of greens (68 per cent). His driving distance remained virtually the same: perhaps he's a few yards longer now. Driving accuracy has improved dramatically: he used to hit only two out of three fairways, now he hits three out of four. The huge difference has been putting.

He dedicated his Memorial triumph to his father who had advised him to play more tournaments. Significantly, from no more than 15 or 16 US appearances each year since 1991, he has already played 10 this season, even if the Pebble Beach Pro-Am was abandoned after two rounds.

Before heading out on the final round at Muirfield Village last Sunday, Watson said: "I don't lament my missed opportunities. It happens to everybody who plays this game." It was typical of the dignified manner in which he coped with crushing disappointments.

Now. an innate dignity has been rewarded and we all rejoice with a player who has graced a great game like few others.