It captured the very essence of Jack Nicklaus, the supreme competitor. While lesser, would-be challengers stumbled through the critical, closing holes of Augusta National, Nicklaus seemed only to grow in strength as he edged closer to the target. Soon, unbelievably, he would be slipping his arms into the coveted green jacket for a sixth time.

Looking back on the amazing happenings of that April Sunday in 1986, it is interesting to note the part that a fellow scribe played, albeit unwittingly, in the destination of the US Masters title. Indeed, one could well understand the writer's thinking as he set about analysing the field for his Atlanta newspaper.

He noted that in the build-up to the event, Nicklaus had collected a meagre $4,403 from seven tournaments and was languishing in 160th position in the money list. Furthermore, he had missed three cuts; had a best finish of 39th and was 157th in the putting statistics. And worst of all, he hadn't broken 70 since February.

Even Nicklaus had to agree his form was far from inspiring. "I really have played just awful," he conceded. "As many people have said, this is the December of my career."

So, the Atlanta writer felt himself fully justified in telling his readers that 46-year-old men didn't win the Masters, especially on the sort of form that Nicklaus had been displaying. As it happened, a mischievous friend couldn't resist the temptation to attach the clipping to the Bear's fridge.

"I thought about it all week," said Nicklaus afterwards. "I was done. Through. Washed up. Sometimes you need something like that to get you going."

On arrival at Augusta, he conceded he might not be as good as he was 10 or 15 years previously. And it was hard to deny it after an opening round of 74. He even found himself admitting: "Maybe I should quit right now, but I'm not that smart." So he played on; made the cut with a second round of 71 and then moved among the fringe contenders after a third round 69.

Going into the final round, Nicklaus considered the eight players who were ahead of him - Seve Ballesteros, Tom Kite, Greg Norman, Nick Price, Tom Watson, Tommy Nakajima, Bob Tway and Donnie Hammond. Some of them would back off, but he couldn't bank on all of them coming back to him, certainly not former winners of the title such as Ballesteros and Watson.

In such situations, the Bear always set himself targets. Indeed the same thinking applied, even if he were battling for no more than his honour. Like five years previously in the British Open at Royal St George's, Sandwich, when he was asked what it meant to him to shoot a wretched, opening round of 83.

"It means I need to shoot 65 or 66 to make the cut," he said calmly. He shot 66 and made the cut by two strokes.

Looking at his position on that Sunday morning at Augusta, he decided he needed a 66 to tie; 65 to win. And remarkably, he did it. Even more astonishing was the fact that he managed to reach a winning target after playing the first eight holes of his final round in level par.

It was then that the game's greatest competitor revealed his gift for making things happen on the golf course. Standing on the ninth tee, he decided it was time to make his move. So it was that he carded a birdie for an outward 35, which left him two under par for the tournament at that stage.

The 10th and 11th were also birdied, sending shock-waves throughout the course and, no doubt, through some of his less staunch-hearted rivals. Could this be the start of an irresistible surge which would take him ultimately to the title? Just when the fans had allowed themselves to believe that the miracle could happen, the magic seemed to be shattered by a bogey at the treacherous, short 12th.

Maybe it was too much to hope for: attention turned back to Ballesteros and his serene progress through some of golf's most dangerous terrain. But Nicklaus refused to drift back into the pack. Indeed pulses began racing again when he birdied the long 13th and made a solid par on the 14th.

Now he was on the tee at the long 15th, four strokes behind Ballesteros with four holes to play. And after a solid if unspectacular drive, he was standing in the middle of the fairway, asking his son Jackie, who was caddying for him: "How much good do you think a three wood would do?" There was no reply.

What it did was to leave the ball 20 feet from the hole. And when the putt went down for an eagle three, Jackie gave the sort of leap of delight, that might have rivalled the exploits of basketball star Michael Jordan, a decade later.

Father and son were cheered to the echo as they made their way to the tee at the short 16th. Meanwhile, CBS anchorman Jim Nantz asked Tom Weiskopf in one of the commentary positions what he thought might be going through Nicklaus's mind at that moment. Weiskopf, who had been joint second in the Masters in 1974 and 1975, replied: "If I knew how he thought, I would have won this golf tournament."

Nicklaus almost had a hole in one, his tee-shot landing just to the right of the flagstick and stopping three feet away. He would later recall of that birdie two: "The ovation was unbelievable. The sound was deafening. I couldn't hear a thing.

Ballesteros had seen it all from the 15th fairway, where he had hit a huge drive of 301 yards. The Spaniard, who had captured this trophy in 1980 and again in 1983, remained firmly focused on a third Masters triumph. He had less than 200 yards to the flag - then disaster. With one of the worst swings of his tournament career, Ballesteros hit a low, pull-hook which never had a chance of clearing the water.

Before the ripples had reached the edge of the pond, a roar went up from the fans. "I heard this cheer, or roar," recalled Nicklaus. "I told myself he's either hit it in the water or holed it."

Presently, while the Spaniard's challenge lay in ruins, Nicklaus would stand on the 17th tee, tied for the lead. And he would proceed to sink a 17-foot putt to go six under for the back nine, seven under for the day and nine under for the tournament. The roar which greeted that birdie was such that, more than 400 yards away on the 18th green, Corey Pavin felt obliged to back off a putt while completing a final round of 71.

From his book Augusta: Home of the Masters Tournament, Steve Eubanks takes up the story: "When the putt dropped, Nicklaus, in old familiar form, raised his putter and stepped toward the hole, knowing right then and there he had snared sole possession of the lead. Said Jackie Nicklaus, `When the putt went in, you could have heard it in Atlanta.' "

While carding seven birdies in 10 holes, Nicklaus holed every putt that had to be holed and, just like Gary Player had done eight years earlier, it eventually added up to an inward nine of 30 strokes, equalling the tournament record.

After Nicklaus had completed the job with a tap-in putt for a par on the 18th, he was hugged by his son who had never known a prouder moment. Then, to tumultuous applause from almost hysterical galleries, the Bear went off to the Butler Cabin looking no more perturbed than a benign bishop.

There, as the five-time champion, about to win for a record-extending sixth time, he watched Kite come up short with an 18-footer to tie. Norman, the last challenger with the chance of spoiling history, then missed a 10-footer for par after having badly blocked his approach shot at the 18th into the grandstand.

So it was that Nicklaus had emulated Ballesteros to become only the second winner to break 280 at Augusta National since the conversion to bent greens in 1979. He had been the youngest winner of the title in 1963 and now, 23 years on, at the age of 46, he had become the oldest Masters champion and the only man in history to have won six green jackets.

As Eubanks concluded: "It was a moment that everyone could remember; one of those rare moments in sport and in life when those who witnessed an event became keenly aware of place and time and history."

As a result of that triumph, the MacGregor company would sell a record number of the rather cumbersome-looking putters which Nicklaus used so effectively on that fateful day. And artists from around the world would do their best to capture on canvas some of the lasting images of the occasion, like Nicklaus leaping on the 15th, raising his putter on the 17th and rolling his eyes skywards as he walked to the 18th tee.

"To have those things happen to you and to have them happen again and at a place like Augusta, which means so much to me, had me close to tears," he said afterwards. Then he confessed he had almost started to cry a few holes earlier, until he reminded himself: "Hey, you've still got a lot of golf to play."

Nicklaus had captured his 20th major title, including two US Amateurs. And he would go on to have many more memorable rounds at Augusta, culminating in a wonderful share of sixth place last year, at the age of 58.

But nothing could ever compare with those heady days of `86, when the passing years and pre-tournament form were rendered utterly meaningless by a gigantic golfing talent. Only quality mattered. And Nicklaus always had that in abundance.