Golf: Aces who put it differently

By CHRIS RATTUE

They created a new era in New Zealand golf, and from the beginning had a golden touch that marked them as a cut above the rest.

The admirable David Smail can ply his trade with such dedication that he makes the world top 100, Craig Perks and Grant Waite can reach the Holy Grail by winning tournaments in the plush expanse of American golf. Others like Steve Alker will remind us that perseverance can blaze its own type of trail.

Yet there is a special fascination about the careers of Michael Campbell and Philip Tataurangi which transcends the others from this country.

Maybe it was to do with those television images when they celebrated winning the Eisenhower Trophy in Canada in 1992. It was a team of four amateurs, but two stood out.

We were told that Campbell and Tataurangi had special talents. Maybe, even, they won more notice because their Maori heritage suggested new flair in a game dominated by white folks in the place where it is most visible, until a remarkable Tiger started prowling around America's golf jungle.

At the very least, Campbell and Tataurangi were helping provide golf with a new image, and offering the sport as an alternative to youngsters who had only ever dreamed of playing with footballs.

"Watch these two - they won't just take on the world, they'll end up at the top," the line went.

A decade on from that Eisenhower in Canada, Campbell is rated so highly that he makes invitational tournaments where the winner's prize alone would leave the NRL's salary cap trailing in its wake.

Yet after tying for third at the 1995 British Open, where he led into the final day and played THAT remarkable shot out of the Road Hole bunker, Campbell - the former telephone company worker - got his golfing
wires crossed.

He may have dreamed of the way his world would change the night before he unravelled at St Andrews, and in doing so broke the rule of never look too far beyond the next hole.

Instead, Campbell's career impacted with the sort of thud us duffers hear too often as our golf balls land in areas unknown to the course maintenance staff.

Campbell announced his return in Taipei just over three years ago when he won the Johnnie Walker Classic, beating a field that included Tiger Woods, Ernie Els and Vijay Singh. Within three months, he had also claimed the New Zealand Open, Heineken Classic and Australian Masters and doubled the highest previous single season earnings on the Australasian tour.

When Michael Campbell lies in bed at tournament time now, he doesn't need to dream of riches and his thoughts are soothed by motivation tapes.

Last year, his confidence soared after finishing second to Woods at Bay Hill. Campbell's world ranking, which has reached 14, is still an impressive 22 for now.

Tataurangi, with a world ranking of 78 going into the New Zealand Open, has taken longer to emerge but in a way that is much quicker to define. He won in America. Not even Colin Montgomerie, the grumpy Scottish Ryder Cup star who has absolutely dominated in Europe, can say that.

Tataurangi went straight to the heart of golfing matters by taking on America, while Campbell was building a fortune that has taken him to 15th on Europe's all-time money list. Last year, it finally paid off for Tataurangi, as he finished 33rd on the PGA money list with $3.3m earnings. It was the win at the Invensys Classic in Las Vegas, with a final round 62, which made the real difference - to the public at least, if not Tataurangi, and sets him apart from Campbell for now.

Comparing Campbell and Tataurangi at Middlemore this week, it is the 31-year-old Tataurangi - two years Campbell's junior - who plays the contented pro while Campbell breathes fire, a contradiction of their world rankings.

"It hasn't seriously changed anything for me," says Tataurangi of his Las Vegas win in October, when he overturned a five-shot deficit to sweep past the once-mighty David Duval, and win more money than all his previous earnings.

"I've never played the game to make a lot of money," Tataurangi said at the time.

Now, he might even have you believe he doesn't play to win.

"I think the thing that is different is inside me. I know I can win a tournament now. I can beat the top players on the US tour," he says, while ambling towards the practice tees at Middlemore.

"You're putting all your eggs in one basket if winning is everything. Winning is not everything.

"I think only Tiger is good enough to go to any tournament thinking he can win.

"The point for me is to put myself into contention. Sometimes, just making the cut is a very solid week. Winning tournaments is not the be- all and end-all."

Montgomerie, whose place in golf history is weighed down by a large millstone inscribed with the words: "Couldn't win where it counts most," might not agree despite his public comments. Campbell certainly doesn't.

Tataurangi plays the realist, removing the disappointments that over-ambition can bring. A neck injury, originally misdiagnosed, left him with only 30 per cent power in his left arm and contributed to a miserable 2001 year which ended with a return to qualifying school to regain his tour card for 2002. Last July, he had surgery in Texas on a heart ailment.

He never despaired about his career, quietly stepping aside when he had to to rebuild his health. Tataurangi doesn't even revel in his 2002 turnaround.

"I'm happy to leave last year alone. It was very exciting but I'm ready to put that aside and start afresh," he says.

"It was a long time coming and when I started I would have hoped a year like last year would of occurred earlier.

"But then again the experience I gained over those years will help me carry on and achieve at that level."

Campbell make no bones about what stepping into the American winner's circle means to him.

He is more open than Tataurangi at Middlemore, more liable to wear his heart on the sleeve. Tataurangi is circumspect in words and intended deeds. Polite but distant. Campbell thrives in the cut and parry of the interview room.

Campbell will finally take advantage of the power of his earnings and attack the American PGA tour fulltime this year.

Tataurangi may be circumspect after experiencing ups, downs and ups there, but Campbell is energised by the prospects.

They may play the same game but the old Eisenhower team-mates are talking a different language right now.

"My main goal is to win in America," says Campbell.

"I've won everywhere in the world but the USA. I believe I've got the game to win a major.

"I thought I wasn't ready in the past but at 33, it's time to go. I feel comfortable on the American tour now. Before, I wasn't ... It's just so big a circus.

"I'm ready to take on the best. Seeing my friends win in the US makes me envious."

Campbell has already worked on changing his ball flight for the softer conditions on the uniformly created American courses, hitting with a higher trajectory that brings trouble in the windier European conditions.

Campbell craves consistency, but what he really wants are victories.

"Winning is the only thing. That's what spurs on Tiger," he says.

"Money is the last thing on his mind. Els, Goosen ... they're there to win majors and win tournaments."

As an eight-year-old, Campbell looked in the shed, saw the golf clubs owned by his father, a left hander, and wondered what they were. For a couple of months, he hacked around the backyard cackhanded.

Sometimes, he can't believe how far he has come. The journey has included donating to charity, and trying to influence youngsters' lives.

"Trying to expose the game to as many kids is important to me," he says.

"I want to get kids off the streets and do something good, rather than find themselves in court or jail."

Campbell can happily steer many different courses, but it will always be a sweeter journey if he can use Middlemore as a stepping stone to find that American victory which has, most famously, eluded Montgomerie but given Tataurangi a contentment beyond his peer.