PAUL LAWRIE'S COMEBACK INSPIRED BY DEATH OF COACH ADAM HUNTER

FROM THE DAILY TELEGRAPH WEBSITE
 By JAMES CORRIGAN
Sometimes a light switches on in the bleakest of circumstances. For Paul Lawrie this most excruciating of paradoxes occurred at the bedside of his dying coach.

As the 44-year-old (his birthday was on January 1) reflects on two years during which he re-emerged from golfing wilderness to play a full and crucial part in the Ryder Cup, a moment of truth with Adam Hunter stands out as the returning point.

“It’s down to that one chat we had in hospital,” Lawrie says.

It transpired in the wake of the 2010 Ryder Cup at Celtic Manor, where Lawrie, ranked way down with also-rans, had made his first foray into the studio to work with Sky Sports. It is fair to say that Hunter was not impressed.

“Adam told me, ‘I can’t believe you’re doing commentary’,” Lawrie recalls. “He said ‘I can’t believe you’re 41 years of age and thinking that’s it, I’m done. It’s not like you to pack it in like that. That’s not the guy I’ve coached all these years. Don’t give up, kick on again, show them how good you really are’.

“You know, when a friend is lying there with leukaemia telling you that, it’s hard not to be inspired and get stuck in and prove to him you can still do it.” 

Hunter, pictured right, lived to see his pupil win his first tournament in nine years – in Malaga 20 months ago – but had lost his fight by the time Lawrie used this platform to spring from 272nd in the world to rejoin the elite. Two more wins, in far more exclusive company, helped him leap back into the top 30, and, of course, earned him a second appearance at the Ryder Cup after a 13-year absence.
If Ian Poulter was the living embodiment of the self-belief which effected Europe’s “Miracle of Medinah” then Lawrie’s own story summed up the blessed belligerence displayed on those Illinois fairways. 
That much should have been remembered when José Maria Olazábal’s squad were ridiculously denied the team prize at the BBC Sports Personality of the Year show last month.
Lawrie was not at the ExCel Arena that night and anyone who is fortunate enough to have read An Open Book, his recently published autobiography, will have a hunch why.
 Lawrie is not particularly fond of awards ceremonies, no matter how grand.
After his Open glory at Carnoustie in 1999, Lawrie was made MBE. When it came to being called up, the Buckingham Palace dignitary with the microphone announced him as “Peter”.
“I was p----- off,” Lawrie says. “It was just one more thing on top of all the disrespect I was getting after Jean van de Velde lost the Open rather than me winning it. It was the last log on the fire for me.” In a red mist, Lawrie skipped the drinks party and flew straight home.
The rage blazed for many a year thereafter, as Lawrie sought the widespread respect which was never forthcoming.
It consumed him; harmfully so. He was treated for depression. It was a case of forgive and forget. Lawrie could not forgive, alas they could forget.
The media ignored him, sponsors left him, tournament organisers hid him on the draw sheet.
For eight years he was Europe’s last major champion and it was as if that was embarrassing. Lawrie was not only a victim of his success but also of the failures of his supposed betters.
“You want people to recognise the hard work you put in to get yourself where you are,” he says.
“It goes back to me turning professional as a five- handicap amateur and by own admission not being very good. And from there becoming Open champion.
"I can’t think of many who have done that and I don’t think people have the first comprehension what that involves.
“And for my achievement not only to be overlooked but actually to be belittled? Yes, it did get to me and I tried to change to people’s minds.
"But looking back I shouldn’t have let myself become so bitter.
“I should have kept my head down, played my golf and gone home to my family.”
Eventually the bitterness abated and rather inevitably the sweetness returned. When he stopped caring what others thought, so they came to think so much of him. 
“It’s taken until this last 18 months to gain the respect that I always found strange wasn’t there before,” he says.
“It’s incredible. I get recognised and asked to sign stuff more now than when I was the Open champion. And since the Ryder Cup it has been extraordinary.”
It could have been so different, of course. Had Lawrie lost his singles then Europe would have fallen and he would have gone away as one of the villains with a three and nought record.
Attention would then have focused on why Olazábal had played him in the four-balls but not in the foursomes.
“To be honest, I couldn’t understand that decision,” Lawrie says. “I see myself as more of a foursomes player. But that was up to the captain. I didn’t have the problem.
"I just wanted to repay the faith he showed in putting me out of No 5 in the Sunday order. He told us that, to have a chance, we had to win the first five singles and knowing what that event means to the guy I wasn’t going to let him down.
"I was six under for the 15 holes [when he beat Brandt Snedeker 5 and 3) and to perform that well under that amount of pressure was so, so satisfying.”
The hecklers only added to the gratification. Lawrie had heard the same insults at Brookline in 1999, when America came back from the same 10-6 scoreline going into the last day. Now the spikes were on the other foot.
“Winning over there is special, especially as you have to take it in the neck from the spectators,” Lawrie says.
“I heard all sorts of abuse. Had it been a regular tournament, I would have been into the crowd four or five times. At the Ryder Cup you have to take it and the crowd know that. Overall though, I loved every minute and would love it again.
“It’s funny, my name was mentioned a bit for the captaincy for Gleneagles in 2014, what with it being in Scotland and all. But the way I’ve been playing has taken me out of that chat. When you’re 29th in the world there’s obviously another aim.
"I probably won’t ever be captain now. I can accept that. I want to play again. To be in the team in your own country, well, I can’t think of anything better than that.”
An Open Book – Paul Lawrie with John Huggan, published by DP Publishing (£16.99), is available in bookshops and at the Paul Lawrie Golf Centre, and Deeside Golf Club.