'I didn't have enough left in my legs, so I did a little jig'

It was his Masters victory in 1988 and his little dance of delight that is the hallmark of Lyle in his heyday. It seems only yesterday that he despatched that 7-iron fairway bunker shot to behind the pin, whence the ball ran back down the slope, leaving a downhill putt that he holed to beat Mark Calcavecchia by a single shot.

It was unforgettable for all who saw it, as Lyle is well aware.

"My win at Augusta gives me recognition week-in, week-out.

It never stops," he said, "and I think it's because of the way it was won. It has been etched on people's minds."

To Lyle himself, Sunday, April 10, 1988, also seems like yesterday and, as the now 50-year-old prepared for his 27th Masters campaign that starts on Thursday, when he will be the only Scot in the field, you could almost see a mist clearing as he allowed himself to drift back to that halcyon day.

Lyle had been in the driving seat, two clear of the field, standing on the tee at the 12th, that treacherous par-3 over water to a narrow green, but the Scot watched in horror as his 8-iron shot landed on the bank and rolled back into the water.

The upshot was a double-bogey 5 and, as Calcavecchia made a charge with birdies at the eighth, ninth and 11th, the American went ahead with another at the long 13th.

"I was getting a little desperate and I was also tired, because I had won the week before at Greensboro. The old gas tank was beyond empty," recalled Lyle.

"I managed only pars at the 13th and 15th and now I was wondering how I was going to get a birdie to at least force a play-off."

The worry did not last long.

Lyle grabbed a birdie 2 at the 16th, another pitfall-ridden short hole. "I was right there again," he said. "I got through the 17th unscathed and I was level with Calcavecchia, who was playing the last."

Bracing himself for his moment of truth, Lyle pulled out his trusty 1-iron. "It didn't matter how short as long as it was on the fairway with an angle into the green. What I didn't want was to put it in the trees on the right and have no shot. So the left bunker was the one to go for - 250 yards uphill. I was tired and I didn't think I could reach it, but the adrenaline was there and in it went.

"The way it went in I thought the ball was up against the face. I was walking up there under a dark cloud, but when I saw it I brightened up immediately.

"I knew from the line, the angles and the distance of 150 yards to the pin that a 7-iron would be enough. Ideally, it was an 8-iron to land it at the pin, but if I caught too many grains of sand I wouldn't get there. Being short is far worse than being big, so I hit the 7-iron with safety in mind, and I landed beyond the pin."

By the time he played the shot he knew Calcavecchia had made his par and the position was clear: a par to tie, a bogey to lose, and a birdie to win. On reflection, Lyle regards this as the best shot of his career, given the circumstances and the result.

Gene Sarazen's albatross 2 at the 15th courtesy of a holed 4-wood shot of 225 yards on his way to winning the 1935 Masters was labelled "the shot heard around the world" but, coming at the last in front of a global television audience, the Scot's effort had much more impact, and it wasn't over.

"I was concerned at not hearing much reaction straightaway,"

continued Lyle, "but then the crowd became noisier and noisier and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"I knew the ball had rolled down the hill but, when I reached the green, I was disappointed. I had hoped it was going to be a foot from the hole and a tap-in. I saw the putt again recently on television and it looked like eight feet, but according to experts it was 18 feet.

"I wanted to get on with it, but I had about 10 minutes to read the damn thing while waiting for Ben Crenshaw, who was butchering the hole. The line wasn't obvious, but I picked the right side and the nice thing was that there was an upslope beyond the hole so, if I hit it a little too strong, it wasn't going to run away. It was still a fast putt, with no more than three inches of backswing to start the ball rolling.

"The delay seemed like an hour and the good thing is that it gave me time to reflect on where I was and what I was doing. I took the pressure off by telling myself I had this putt not to keep the tournament going, but to win.

"There were also words of wisdom from Lee Trevino going through my mind. He said that he would rather have a 20-foot downhill putt to win a major than a 20-foot uphill putt, because downhill you just have to start the ball off, whereas uphill you need a comparatively massive backswing.

"From about three feet it looked as if it had a chance. It was hunting towards the hole, but you never know what it's going to do in the last six inches. It could slip by or horseshoe out, but from three inches it looked damn good.

"When the ball dropped it was like four days of pressure had been lifted off my shoulders. I could have melted into a blob on the green and stayed there quite happily, but I had to do something. I could have done a somersault, but I didn't have enough left in the legs, so I did a little jig as they call it now."

Lyle's was the first British win at the Masters and started a run of four in a row, with Nick Faldo (twice) and Ian Woosnam following, while the Scot's form plummeted. In his rookie year as a senior he is still trying to recover it.

"I look back at it now and I simply burned out. I started experimenting and searching for ways and means to improve. My thoughts were: things are not going well so just work harder'. Someone should have told me to take a month or two off to get my breath back. I should also have stuck with the swing I had and I regret trying to change it."

His was a talent that took him to world No.1 all too briefly. Its enduring image is that 7-iron shot from a bunker on America's most famous golf course in deepest Georgia, and that is something you cannot take away from one of golf's most likeable characters.