Augusta, Georgia
CNN
—
When youngsters discover the game of golf these days, they dream of playing at the Masters. But when Bernhard Langer started playing in the tiny German village of Anhausen in the 1960s, he’d never even heard of it.
“I don’t recall the exact day when I heard about the Masters tournament,” he explained to reporters at Augusta National. “We didn’t have television until I was about 12 years old, my dad couldn’t afford one. Then it only had three channels, and I’m sure the Masters wasn’t on one of those three channels.”
Langer thinks that he probably learned about the tournament that would later change his life from a magazine at the club where he worked as a caddie. Because he’d had to teach himself how to swing a club, he certainly couldn’t have imagined that he’d ever play there one day. Many decades later, he’s about the play the Masters for the 41st and final time, and he’s choking up just thinking about it.
“It’s very emotional,” Langer said. “You can tell already that my voice is breaking a bit, just realizing it’s going to be my last competitive Masters.”
At the age of 67, Langer is now reflecting on his career as a trailblazer and one of the most remarkable journeys in the game. Not only did he make it to Augusta, but in 1985 he won the Masters in just his third attempt. With 12 senior major titles to his name, he’s one of the most successful golfers of his generation. His longevity is the envy of many and along the way, he’s inspired generations of European golfers, wearing his heart on his sleeve as he persevered through ebbs and flows of triumph and tragedy.
During four separate periods of his career, Langer famously suffered from the yips, involuntary muscle spasms which wreak havoc on a golfer’s ability to play the game.
“Those were the hardest times in my golfing life,” he lamented. “I vividly remember playing Detroit in 1989 and I hit 17 greens in regulation one day and 16 the next day, and I was, like, 11 over par and I missed the cut. I couldn’t hit the ball any better than I did, and I couldn’t putt any worse than I did.”
A man of faith, Langer says that he went back to his hotel, got on his knees and threw up a desperate prayer: “‘God, if you want me done with this game, I’m ready to give it up, just show me what to do,’” he recalled.
A friend was praying with him. “He said, ‘I don’t think he’s done with you yet. He wants you to persevere.’ And I said, ‘Persevere? I’ve been persevering for years and years and it’s getting worse and worse!’”
But Langer always seemed to find a way back from the wilderness – his second Masters title coming eight years later – and he’s learned to accept that no matter how good he might be, fate can always intervene.
“At 13 a few years ago, I hit it the way I wanted it, and it hit a tiny little twig and went 40 yards left into the bushes,” he said. “I hit a perfect shot, and I made seven! That’s golf, you can only control so much.”
Langer developed a reputation for being serious and dour, and journalists who have covered him closely say that whenever he cracked a joke, it always seemed to be scripted. But he is credited with adding some extra sizzle to the fabled Champions Dinner at Augusta.
When he first hosted the dinner as defending champion in 1986, Langer served wiener schnitzel (breaded veal) and Black Forest cake, a nod to his German heritage. Up until then, the menus were safe and predictable, but Langer inspired subsequent champions to be more adventurous, especially the international players who were able to bring something of their own culture to the table. Two years later, Scotland’s Sandy Lyle was hosting the dinner in his kilt and serving up haggis, a delicacy of sheep’s heart, liver and lungs, minced and spiced and cooked in the animal’s stomach lining.
Langer also jokes that he was ahead of the man considered to be the greatest of all time – Tiger Woods. In 1985, after shooting a 68 on Sunday to finish two strokes clear of the field, he was resplendent in a red shirt and trousers. In later years, Woods famously wore red, often in his final rounds.
“I always tease Tiger,” Langer chuckled. “I was the one wearing a red shirt first. You came later!”
This week, Langer knows that the toughest thing he’ll experience won’t be the competition. Instead, it will be managing his emotions as he plays the Augusta National course competitively for the final time, a year since a torn Achilles sustained playing pickleball prevented him from competing.
He’s come to accept that it’s time to call it a day, and while he says that he can still compete on other courses, he no longer can at Augusta, where the distance has grown to more than 7,500 yards. He’s watched the other champions, like his friend Larry Mize, playing here for the last time and seen how the magnitude of the moment totally overwhelmed them.
“He gave a little speech at the Champions Dinner, and he just broke down,” Langer said of the 1987 winner. “It was too much for him, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. He said, ‘I totally screwed up.’ I said, ‘No you didn’t. It was just showing how much it meant to you.’”
Langer will be accompanied throughout his final rounds by his family and friends, his brother, children and grandchildren. He confesses that his lip might start wobbling around Amen Corner, on the majestic 13th hole where he made pivotal eagles to win both his titles.
“Hopefully I can control myself until the 18th,” Langer said, “but there are no guarantees.” And if and when the tears begin to flow, he says he’ll be ready to embrace the emotion of the moment.
“I know that I’ve always been emotional, just kept it inside me for most of the time,” Langer adds. “I’ve cried over and over at home when things have been worth crying for or about. I’m not ashamed of it, my dad was the same way, and he was my hero. There’s nothing wrong with it, there’s many things that are worth crying about.”
