Keeping faith has never been so important to Danny Willett. In 12 months the 29-year-old has endured professional struggles that could define a career if not for the claiming of the Masters which, in part, triggered this fall. Willett becoming a major champion at Augusta National last April led to so much surprise at his subsequent toils. The most unfair claim of all is that Willett was a shock or unfitting champion.
The son of a vicar, Willett might have believed a greater being has been exacting revenge after permitting the sport’s ultimate high. “I grew up with Christian values and around the church, being in the vicarage” Willett says. “It was probably slightly different from what most people encounter but I would say a lot of who I am and what I have done is down to the way my mum and dad brought us up. That [religion] has been a big part of me.
“I believe that I have been given a talent. I don’t believe you can fully draw on it and just let him do everything for you. There’s you, who has to work hard at what you do. But it’s a strange old game; not everyone can just wake up and think they are going to play professional golf. You have to be given a talent. Fortunately, I had that and then you have to work on that talent to get where you want to get to.”
Willett’s scenario is a curious one. As defending Masters champion he should be in a state of high anticipation and excitement as he returns to Georgia. The reality is that analysis of the Yorkshireman is impossible without heavy focus on the poor results that followed Augusta glory. There have been flashes, but only that, of Willett emerging from this slump. In 74 strokeplay rounds since he donned the Green Jacket, Willett has broken 70 only 21 times. Second place at the Italian Open last September leaps out as a fantastic result in the context of what arrived before and after. At times Willett has been visibly and acutely dejected.
The 29-year-old is candid about such woes, to the point where not even playing was a consideration late last year. “I have spoken to [mind coach] Steve Peters about stuff like that,” he says. “He quite frankly said, as did my coaches Mike Walker and Pete Cowen: ‘You don’t have to play.’ Then you kind of think: ‘Well, that’s silly. Of course I have to play. This is what I’ve been working for since I was 11 years old.’ Then they would say: ‘Well, then. If that’s what you want to do, then get back on the horse, go and get it done.’
“The last four events of the year were tough. I really struggled to get the energy, I was working hard but felt I was banging my head against a wall. I couldn’t see any results, couldn’t see anything coming our way. The season couldn’t end quickly enough, which seems a ridiculous thought process given the year as a whole. I was just struggling to get up and go properly. I was getting up in the morning and doing everything right but there wasn’t the same oomph about getting up and really going after it. I really needed a break.
“There have been some massive highs but then there’s been some pretty low lows. That seems pretty ridiculous going on what has happened, but if you look at it in terms of a whole career? Everyone has ups and downs. To have a down pretty early in my career at 29, when you are feeling pretty poor about most things, to come through that and get some good results again will be good for my maturity.”
A key element of Willett’s frustration relates to a terrific work ethic that is not commonly matched even at the top of the game. That has regressed into being mentally unforgiving; Willett believes it took until Christmas to give himself full credit for being Masters champion. “You work hard and you think you should do certain things every week, which is impossible,” he says. “You step back, realise that happened in 2016 and it was awesome. But this is 2017, a new year and the slate is clean.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not Masters champion but in terms of Race to Dubai, FedEx Cup, whatever, you are starting at zero again. Regardless of how poor I thought the last few months were, I’d done something there that not many people have been able to do. I’ll host a Champions Dinner with maybe 34 guys there wearing Green Jackets. The realisation set in that this was really special.
“I have been through the scenario of expectations being too high and trying to relive what happened that week. You realise it’s impossible. You can try and get your game back there and that’s what we are trying to do, but, within that, expectations can get incredibly high and that hinders performance.”
There is an edge to Willett’s personality but he is likable. When stepping away from the course, he does not take himself altogether seriously. There was never any chance of fame and fortune altering Willett’s wider outlook; the “real life” of “playing for a fiver a corner” at Rotherham Golf Club plus “a few pints and some frames of snooker” is something he continues to cherish. If Willett is to play full-time on the PGA Tour, one senses part of him will do so with a heavy heart.
It is left to others to overstate what Willett achieved in the 80th Masters. Just days after becoming a father, and seizing on Jordan Spieth’s collapse, Willett‘s 67 rendered him the first Englishman in two decades to win the first major of the year. The winning margin, of three strokes, was relatively comfortable.
“I don’t think it was completely illogical to think I could win,” Willett says. “I had played well enough around the world and won some big tournaments. I had played well under pressure. I got overlooked going into the Masters but I was still 20th in the world, I wasn’t miles down that list.”
He shrugged off then, as now, US questions of “Danny who?” “That was always going to happen unless you had been playing in America for a long time,” he says. “The only thing I cared about was wearing the Green Jacket on the plane home.”
And home to a new, family-oriented life. “Putting those two together, so close, was difficult,” he says. “Time management of having Zach, wanting to look after him and help [my wife] Nic, when you have to go and play certain events and do other things around the world; it was very difficult to have it all in the pot at the same time.
“It would be difficult enough to have your first child and it would be difficult enough to win your first major from a time-management point of view … I was supposed to have four weeks off after Augusta, go on holiday and spend time with the family. It ended up being the busiest four weeks you could ever imagine. But in both circumstances you wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Willett smiles again when contemplating the unwelcome written interventions of his brother Pete immediately before the Ryder Cup. “I think everybody knows what the right and the wrong thing to do is these days.”
The broadest grin, though, relates to the coming days. It is legitimate to believe Willett’s career will take off again once this Masters has passed. He points towards an element of sanctuary within one of sport’s most famous venues. “It is unbelievable. There is nothing that can compare to that feeling down the stretch in a major and, in my case, shooting 67 to get it done,” he says. “It is a great source of inspiration, it can’t not be.
“That was then, this is now but it’s not like I’m not going to drive down Magnolia Lane and smile, or play a few holes on Saturday and Sunday where I chuck a few balls down in places where I hit it to relive some memories. Luckily, I get to do that at Augusta for the rest of my life.”
