At times like this – upon hearing that perhaps the most aggressive, charging, vibrant golfer of the last 50 years has been diagnosed with a brain tumor – there is a tendency to fall back on maudlin prose about fate, life and death, and all the rest.  To my mind, this makes for a tedious read.

Conversely, to start recounting Seve Ballesteros’ myriad accomplishments might, in its own way, be distasteful, amounting, in a sense, to eulogizing the man well before the game is over.

So instead I will simply offer a few random thoughts on one of the more complex golfers of our time, beginning with a note about his personality.  For most American fans, Seve has long been a player easy to dislike, his desire to succeed in the Ryder Cup appearing almost obsessive, his demands for E Tour appearance money and an unwillingness to meet the PGA Tour’s minimum standard of 15 annual events during the 1980s appearing plainly arrogant.  Stories of his gamesmanship are legion, as are his misadventures with caddies, and his legendary ego.  Indeed, one of my favorite Seve stories came following Bernhard Langer’s missed 6’ putt that cost Europe the 1991 Ryder Cup.  In attempts at supporting his crestfallen teammate, Ballesteros noted with his customary verve that “ “No one in the world can make that putt.  It is too much pressure for anyone.  Not even Jack Nicklaus in his prime will make that putt...Not even me!”

But beyond all of these not-so-tasteful things, there lies, I am reliably told, a pretty decent fellow.  In researching The Book of Golfers several years back, I ran the draft of my not-so-complimentary Seve profile past a respected contemporary of his on the European Tour and received an interesting response.  Yes, I was told, the negatives about the man were largely true.  But beyond all of that, Seve was generally liked by his E Tour peers, particularly the younger, less-established players whom he frequently found time to help and support.  Perhaps because of his own none-too-affluent youth, Ballesteros, it seems, remained “one of the guys” to a fairly high degree in Europe – though clearly both that approach and image didn’t travel across the Atlantic with him very well.

Another Seve story that remains little told in America (though it is well-known in Europe) took place at the 1979 French Open when his close friend and fellow Spanish professional Salvador Balbuena suddenly passed away – at age 29 – from a heart attack.  Much of the grief-stricken Spanish contingent withdrew from the event but Ballesteros elected to compete and donate his winnings to Balbuena’s widow and children.  After struggling with his emotions throughout the week, Seve carded Sunday’s low round, a five-under-par 68, to tie for third.

And then there is this last item that strikes me: Early in his professional career, as his victories and Major championships mounted, it became a common refrain that Tiger Woods played the game like no golfer before him.  Perhaps that was true then, but our present-day Tiger, while still unquestionably the best golfer on earth, is not quite so original.  For a good quarter-century before Woods began swinging from the heels, then recovering from all manner of bizarre places, Seve Ballesteros had perfected the method, his sense of dash and style in navigating back from parts unknown matched in the game’s annals only by the legendary Walter Hagen.

Seve’s game is gone now; regardless of how his health issues play out, we will never again see that swashbuckling golfer win seemingly just by the massive force of his will.  But his presence in the game, especially in Europe, where he largely put it on the professional sports map, remains both imposing and important.

Hopefully he’ll keep filling that role for a long, long while to come.