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The National (Scotland)
The National (Scotland)
Sport
Nick Rodger

Bernhard Langer’s longevity remains a thing of wonder

Behold. Scotland has finally gained independence. Well, from the summer anyway. This particular season, it seems, has just detached itself from the country and decided to sod off.

It wasn’t that long ago, of course, that we were all basking in blazing, unrelenting sunshine, absorbing vast quantities of vitamin D from that big fiery orb’s rays and recklessly allowing our skins to sizzle to the colour of a rump steak that had just been napalmed.

Now, we’re stuck in a cycle of low-pressure systems, stiff breezes, blustery showers and disappointing temperatures. I’m looking up at a heavily-laden cloud that’s so damp, it’s got fungus growing in the corner of it. And some rust.

Yes, there are occasional bursts of sun and blue sky amid the gloomy monsoons but that merely acts as a sighing reminder of what you could have had. It’s a bit like the end of an old episode of Bullseye when Jim Bowen’s minions would wheel out a sparkling new Talbot Samba car just to rub salt into the wounds of the contestants who had failed to get 101 or more in six darts.

But enough of this meandering, idle whimsy which masquerades as downright gibberish. At least golf provides these clouds with a few silver linings. If you didn’t fancy the perilous gamble of sunshine one minute and a soaking the next on Sunday, then you could’ve tethered yourself to the couch and enjoyed a thrilling finale to the British Masters at The Belfry before moving seamlessly into Rickie Fowler’s first win in more than four years at the Rocket Mortgage Classic and then onto Bernhard Langer’s historic conquest at the US Senior Open.

It was another remarkable chapter in this Anhausen auld yin’s career as the 65-year-old claimed a record-setting 46th victory on the over-50s Champions Tour and a 12th senior major. It’s an astonishing plunder. And don’t forget, he’s also had 40 second place finishes on the golden oldies circuit. Langer remains as reliable as the German rail network.

The other week, I scribbled some nostalgic article in this supplement about the old Glasgow Classic event on the European Tour which was held at Haggs Castle in 1983 and was won by a dashing young 20-something Bernhard. Some of you dear readers may have been there. And if you were, did you say to yourself, ‘I bet he’s still winning golf events in 40 years’ time’? Possibly not. You were probably too busy trying to elbow your way towards the champagne marquee in the tented village for the dregs of the Moet & Chandon.

Golf has always been a great generation game, and the passing of the years is never a barrier to success, but Langer’s longevity remains a thing of wonder. He continues to beat both Old Man Par and Auld Faither Time.

In the aftermath of Langer’s latest success, one US golf writer made the somewhat ridiculous claim that Tiger Woods would be desperate to break Bernhard’s record when – or indeed if -  he hirples and hobbles his way into seniors golf in three years’ time.

On the Champions Tour, players can use carts, although not in the majors, but that would at least aid Woods’ mobility. By that stage, though, his creaking, crumbling body could be shrouded in scaffolding. At best, he’d probably only contest a handful of events each year. And can you imagine Tiger still pegging it up at 65? If he’s playing competitively at that vintage, then I’ll eat every hat in the house.

You could probably say that too about players who are currently much younger and fitter than Woods. In this crash, bang, wallop golfing age, when bodies are pushed to the physical limits and clubs are swung with the eye-watering ferocity of a caveman swiping at a woolly mammoth, how many of the current crop will still be marching on through their 50s and 60s?

Langer has kept himself in tremendous shape, has found strength and inner peace through his Christian beliefs and, luckily, has remained relatively healthy down the seasons. He’s not completely immune to the aches and pains that come with climbing the brae on the age front, mind you.

“I’m very human,” he said as he confirmed that his frame is not actually made up of an elaborate system of durable cranks, pistons and pulleys. “I’ve got two bad knees and it hurts bending down and staying down. When I have dinner and I sit for an hour, it's hard to get up.”

It sounds just like this correspondent trying to wince, mutter and curse myself out of a hunched posture over the laptop when I’ve finished the weekly column.

There is a general school of thought about seniors golf that suggests players should do their winning early on in their 50s, before time catches up on them and new recruits to the circuit dunt them into the margins.

That kind of conventional wisdom, though, goes flying out of the window when we evaluate and analyse Langer’s senior service. And he’s not finished yet. “My mother is going to be 100 in August so I think I have good genes,” he said of his enduring qualities. “Hopefully, I'll be around for a few more years.”

Watch this space.

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