Torrance moulds greatness with old-school work ethic

NO-ONE in golf has eyes which can match Bob Torrance's piercing grasp of the nuances of the golf swing.

The sage of Largs, who helped Padraig Harrington blossom into a two-time major winner, is blessed with unrivalled, first-hand knowledge of all the great players of the modern era and a deep understanding of the game's infinite capacity to take down even the most successful champions by a peg or two.

A former bricklayer who was the son of a boxer, Torrance didn't hit a ball until he was 16. He became a greenkeeper and then a professional in the 1950s. As his son, Sam, recalled, his Father wasn't like today's pros "with their cashmere sweaters and Rolex watches. He wore overalls, drove tractors, cut greens and sold tees. When all that was done, he gave lessons."

But what lessons. At his home in Ayrshire, where his coaching responsibilities now extend from European Tour stalwarts such as Stephen Gallacher and Alastair Forsyth to budding Tartan Tour players and local amateurs, all that Torrance asks of his prodigies is commitment and hard graft.

Like all teachers, he wants his pupils to succeed. The satisfaction in Torrance's life lies in helping others.

While his only rivals as golf's greatest coach, Butch Harmon and David Leadbetter, are both millionaires, Torrance was never particularly driven by the pursuit of wealth. He wanted to build swings rather than businesses.

With an accent which makes no apology for his nationality, Torrance, in his mid-70s, is as down to earth as any guru on the planet. His voice may grate like sandpaper, but the gruffness belies a kind and generous nature.

His place of work, the driving range at Inverclyde, doesn't have any heating in the winter and players have to pick up their own balls. It would be hard to think of anywhere less glamorous to forge the swing of an Open champion.

There is no sense of mystery about his work. And his philosophy on the game needs no translation. Good technique, hard work and a big heart make a player.

According to Paul McGinley, the understanding is intuitive. "He has a tremendous insight into the game, without the need of video cameras or other gadgets. Everything is instinctive with him."

A gentle and wise soul, the one failing Torrance won't tolerate in others is a work-shy attitude.

He'll help anyone, from a former postman who finished in the top five at the Scottish PGA, Eddie Thomson, to one of the world's top three professionals, Harrington, as long as they're willing to roll up their sleeves.

When his relationship broke down with Marc Warren earlier this summer, Torrance went public and pinpointed concerns about the young Scot's appetite to improve.

The words were harsh, but if Warren fulfils his potential, no-one will be more pleased than Bob.

One of the friendliest faces on Tour, Torrance usually dispenses couthy pearls of wisdom through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

He wouldn't recognise political correctness if someone poured a bucket of the stuff over his bunnet. Bob is old school and the class of past champions such as Ben Hogan and Sam Snead live on in his mind's eye.

Thomas Bjørn, one of many Ryder Cup players over the years who was improved by Torrance's advice, recalled: "Bob's biggest asset is that he has seen them all, the best ball-strikers from the days of Hogan and Sam Snead to today.

"None of the other teachers have that. He has more than 50 years of experience and there is no substitute for that."

Tom Callahan, one of America's shrewdest sportswriter, wrote of Torrance that he had only one real child, Sam, but hundreds of surrogate sons.

While Bob was never prouder than the day Sam holed the winning putt in the Ryder Cup, of all his adoptees in golf, Harrington is the one who turned out to be special.

When the golfer and the coach first met on the practice range at Loch Lomond in 1998, it was Bob's wife June who recognised their shared sense of dedication.

June, who always calls her husband by his full name, knew after a month or two that Padraig was the golfer Robert had been waiting for all his life. As for Harrington, he grew up playing short and straight on a course where a gift for chipping and putting was sufficient to elevate him to Walker Cup status.

If his swing didn't look like the action of a major champion in the making, Padraig would have been the first to acknowledge his need to improve. All that remains today of the old Harrington is his grip.

Torrance discovered a working class hero in Hogan when he watched the American win the Open at Carnoustie in 1953. "All modern teaching comes from Hogan," he argues. It was partly thanks to that enduring Hogan obsession Torrance was rewarded with the status of golf's most revered teacher and the game found a new hero in Harrington.

For The Senior Open Championship presented by MasterCard Royal Troon GC, Ayrshire, Scotland (USA unless stated, (x) denotes amateurs)