Canadian rock star Bryan Adams wrote a song called Summer of '69 that draws to a crescendo with a rousing declaration: 'Those were the best days of my life.'
Fifty years on, there's no need to ask Tony Jacklin whether he concurs. Slightly deaf in one ear, and with the rounded shape of a man who will turn 75 in July, he becomes positively rheumy-eyed when taken on a journey back to that golden summer when he changed British golf for ever.
During the course of two extraordinary tournaments held just 20 miles apart in the north west of England, his popularity rose to the levels of Manchester United's starry forward line of Bobby Charlton, Denis Law and George Best.
British golfer Tony Jacklin won the Open during an unforgettable summer in 1969
The son of a Scunthorpe lorry driver, Jacklin had no truck with the clothes of inferiority that held the game back in this country. Dressed in a shade of lavender usually the preserve of a confident American, he held off all comers at Royal Lytham to become the first British golfer to win the Open for 18 years.
Then, in the dying embers of summer, along the Lancashire coastline at Royal Birkdale, he took on Jack Nicklaus in the final singles match of the Ryder Cup — having beaten him 4&3 in the morning — and came away with a half-point that meant the first overall tie in the competition's history.
The final moments of both events have become part of the fabric of British sporting lore. First, an arrow-straight drive from Jacklin down the 18th at Lytham, threaded judiciously between perilous bunkers, that led to an immortal piece of commentary from Henry Longhurst that summed up the breathless excitement.
'Oh, what a corker!' he exclaimed. On the 18th green at the Ryder Cup, there was the prospect of a knee-shaking three-footer to decide it all until Nicklaus picked up Jacklin's marker to concede the putt for a halved match, uttering his immortal words: 'I don't think you'd have missed it, but I wasn't going to give you the chance, either.'
Jack Nicklaus (l) and Jacklin after the first overall tie in Ryder Cup history
The gesture, perhaps the greatest in the sporting firmament, led to a golf club in Bradenton, Florida, being named after it. Where better, then, to meet up with Jacklin to talk about his unforgettable summer of 1969.
'I see you've brought the weather with you,' he says, cheerfully. The cool, showery conditions didn't stop him turning up in shorts, looking like a typical, ageing Floridian about to play 18 holes.
The Concession is a 40-minute drive from Jacklin's Sarasota home on Florida's Gulf Coast. Designed by Nicklaus and Jacklin in tandem, you can't help but smile as, to get there, you drive down Lindrick Lane — the scene of a famous British and Irish Ryder Cup victory in 1957. 'Lindrick was the first Ryder Cup I ever attended, and the reason I took up golf,' says Jacklin.
The Concession Golf Club is a 40-minute drive from Jacklin's home on Florida's Gulf Coast
On the entrance walls are paintings of some of the men who made the Ryder Cup what it is today. Better still are the black-and-white photos from the 1969 match in the men's locker room. Adorning everything is the club's insignia — a silhouette of Jacklin and Nicklaus, arms around each other's shoulders, as they came off the 18th green on that unforgettable afternoon.
We start at the Open, where Jacklin sets the scene so beautifully it could have been last year's event, not half a century ago.
'By the time the Open came around I was ready for it,' he begins. 'I'd won the Dunlop Masters in 1967 and had the first hole in one on British television. I'd gone to America and won the Jacksonville Open playing with Arnold Palmer, with all his army, in the final round.
'I'd put up with Americans like Gardner Dickinson, Bob Goalby and Dave Hill. They called people like me 'foreigners' and they made it clear they didn't want us playing in America. All those factors toughened me up and I came to Lytham feeling really mentally strong.
'Over the first three rounds I'd love to tell you about all the miracle shots I played but links golf is not like that, is it? Well, it wasn't back then, before modern club technology came along. It was about holding your own, and I did that. Going into the final round, I was two shots clear, and then it was about holding on.'
The fans were feverish with anticipation. Could the cocky young Englishman end the long wait? 'I loved the fact the crowd were so into it,' says Jacklin. 'I was nervous but in a positive way, not anxious or frightened. I felt like an actor and this was my stage. I was determined to embrace it.'
Jacklin held off all comers to become the first British winner of the Open for 18 years
When he got to the 18th, he was two
