‘Creaking’ Langer admits desire is there for return

German veteran in best Open finish since 2005 Retaining Senior crown will earn place next year

No one else has come so close to winning the Open so often without crossing the winning line. But as Bernhard Langer lined up his last putt on the 18th green yesterday, a fleeting thought crossed the 60-year-old German’s mind.

After 31 fruitless appearances at the Open, the love affair might finally have run its course. “Just as I holed my last putt, I was thinking, this could be my last Open Championship,” he said.

“You just don’t know at my age. The only way for me to get here is through the Senior Open because I’m not going to go through the qualifying any more. But the desire is still there and if I win the Senior Open, I’ll definitely be back.”

The Open, admitted Langer, is an itch he just has not been able to scratch. Since his first appearance at Birkdale in 1976 as an 18-year-old, his lot at the tournament has been to suck up more frustration than any player should have to swallow.

He has finished second twice and third four times, although those stark figures do not do justice to the teasing and tantalising nature of his pursuit of the Claret Jug. He should have won at St Andrews in 1984, but was famously undone by some inspired putting from Seve Ballesteros; nor was that the only time he squandered a winning position. The Open has been a cruel dance partner for the Bavarian.

And now, after a one-under finish that is comfortably his best since he tied for fifth in 2005, it may all be over. His appearances at the Open have become increasingly sporadic, and the likelihood that both he and Sandy Lyle may never again grace the tournament marks the end of an era for the so-called Big Five – Ballesteros, Sir Nick Faldo, Ian Woosnam, Lyle and Langer.

Not that Langer’s absence from Portrush next year is assured: despite being a 500-1 dark horse before this Open, the reigning Senior Open champion has won 10 senior majors and is strongly fancied to retain his trophy at St Andrews this week.

Yesterday, he was determined to savour a course that could almost have been purpose-designed for him. Carnoustie is a thinking player’s course and, as the wind began to blow, Langer was in his element. After making the cut at Augusta, the two-time Masters champion had also outlasted some of the world’s best players to make the cut here at Carnoustie. His success at the old Angus links was, he believes, due to his top two inches.

“In the first three days there was always a little breeze, but nothing like today, so I had to think my way around,” he said. “Just where do you want to be, and where don’t you want to be? Basically, with the wind and fiery fairways you had to make choices on every hole.

“Some of the bombers took on bunkers and had to go over the long rough. Sometimes that was right

because, if they missed the fairway, they just had a wedge into the green. But I can’t carry most of these traps, so I’m hitting three and four-irons into firm greens with tough pin positions.”

Langer’s final round, a level-par 71 that included two birdies and a brace of bogeys, may not have included the pyrotechnics of Saturday’s three-under-par 68, but it still contained elements of genius.

In all, he drove from the tee with five different clubs, varied the flight and height of the ball in trying conditions, and got up and down from three greenside bunkers.

Langer now drags his aching carcass across the Firth of Tay to St Andrews for this week’s Senior Open. The German complained recently about how he needs to

‘Just as I holed my last putt I was thinking this could be my final Open’

stretch and exercise each morning just to be able to get up, but yester- day he was phlegmatic. “The body’s creaking right now,” he laughed, “I’m not 20 or 30 any more. Every day there’s something.”

So why does he do it? Having won $36million (£27million) in his career, he says it is not for the cash, although his Czech father walked across the Iron Curtain to get to Germany and instilled in him an appreciation of the value of money.

And there is also the Teutonic perfectionism that brought on his yips (he once asked Colin Montgomerie to check the yardage on a sprinkler head, only then to query Monty’s reply with “But is that the front or the back of the sprinkler head?”) Langer has another version. “Because I love it,” he said.