With a course record equalling final round of 64, Gary Player staged a breathtaking rally to capture the 1978 US Masters by one stroke. His playing partner, Seve Ballesteros, was nine strokes further back in a share of 18th place, after slipping to a dispiriting 74. But the young Spaniard had made an impact which was beyond golfing skill.

"As long as I live, I'll never forget the way Seve hugged me," Player later recalled of his third Masters triumph. "He came up to me on the 18th green in front of 200 million television viewers and he hugged me. Which was fantastic. And he was very complimentary because he said I taught him to win the Masters."

Both of them had started that fateful round seven strokes behind the leader, Hubert Green, but after the short 12th, the South African had cut the deficit to only three. Then, as they walked down the fairway of the long 13th, Player turned to his playing partner.

"Seve, I want to tell you something," he said, pointing towards the crowds lining the fairway ropes. "Those people don't think I can win. You watch; I'll show them." And so he did.

It was just the inspiration Ballesteros needed to go where no European had gone before. Granted, his uncle, Ramon Sota, had played Augusta National six times between 1964 and 1972 and had gained the distinction of sharing sixth place behind the great Jack Nicklaus in 1965. Then Peter Oosterhuis was tied third in 1973 and fellow Briton, Maurice Bembridge, set a course record 64 to share ninth place behind Player the following year.

But to actually win the coveted green jacket: that would be something very special.

Some years earlier, Tony Jacklin had been an inspiration to a generation of young Europeans. And by his own estimation, Jacklin's victory in Florida's Jacksonville Open in 1968, paved the way for a glorious, British Open triumph at Royal Lytham the following year. Then, the Lytham win gave him the necessary confidence to capture the US Open at Hazeltine in 1970.

Three years after making his Masters debut at Augusta National in 1977, Ballesteros had travelled a similar route. In 1978, he conquered the Americans in their own backyard by winning the Greater Greensboro Open and a year later, he achieved a "major" breakthrough in the British Open at Lytham, just as Jacklin had done.

In the meantime, Augusta had claimed a very special place in the Spaniard's heart. Though considerably grander, it reminded him of the rolling, tree-lined fairways of Real Club de Golf de Pedrena, where he had learned the game as a youngster, first as a caddie and then as an aspiring professional.

As he would later tell Dudley Doust, author of Seve: The Young Champion - "When I saw it, Augusta gave me a very familiar feeling. These were my trees, my colour of green. And I said to myself: `Seve. One day you will win this tournament."' No doubt that feeling was intensified by the happy coincidence of his birthday, on April 9th, falling at Masters-time, most years.

Ballesteros is widely regarded as essentially an instinctive golfer, who always accepted a certain wildness in his play in the belief that superb recovery skills would cope with most situations. This is not so. And no challenge better illustrated his methodical approach to the game, than that of conquering Augusta.

By the autumn of 1979, the Spaniard had decided that 1980 would be his year at the cathedral in the pines. So it was that prior to the World Matchplay Championship at treelined Wentworth, he made the radical move of shortening his backswing so as to achieve greater control. Of lesser consequence was a semi-final defeat against Isao Aoki at the 40th: his thinking was dominated by a far more seductive target.

Then, on returning to his home in Pedrena for the winter, he would throw golf balls in among the pine trees so as to practise the sort of recovery shots he might encounter at Augusta. And in the evenings, he would stand in front of a full-length mirror in the farmhouse stables, down among the cows, and re-shape his takeaway. As he later explained: "I wanted to see myself take the club back more in one piece."

He also made contact with a Barcelona-based psychiatrist who specialised in positive thought. And he came away with a 30-minute cassette of the doctor's soothing voice, which he would plug into his ear on appropriate occasions. Then there was the acquisition of a so-called "Gravity Gym" machine. This was a fixed trapeze device which he had seen in the Perth home of Australian golfer Graham Marsh and which he believed would strengthen his suspect back.

SO IT was that he prepared for the biggest assignment of a burgeoning career. In March 1980, Ballesteros travelled to the US to acclimatise in three Florida tournaments. As things turned out, he missed the cut at Doral; was tied 15th behind Johnny Miller in the Jackie Gleason Inverrary Classic and then came joint third behind Lee Trevino in the Tournament Players' Championship at Sawgrass CC.

Augusta beckoned. And despite the modifications to his swing, he was to hit one of the wildest shots ever witnessed at that celebrated venue, during the first round of the 1980 Masters. Angry at having three-putted the short 16th, he snaphooked his drive off the 17th. Indeed the shot was so badly off line that much to his embarrassment, the ball actually finished on the seventh green, 10 feet from the flag.

As the Spaniard emerged sheepishly through the pines, David Graham, who was playing the seventh at the time, commented acidly: "Nice drive. Would you like to play through?" To which Ballesteros replied: "I am a good driver, yes? This is the first time I hit the seventh green today. I miss it the other time." Graham then remarked: "I'd trade balls. Your's is closer to the hole."

The upshot of it all was that Ballesteros took a free drop off the putting surface and then hit a glorious seven-iron shot of 150 yards, high over the pines to within 15 feet of the 17th pin. And, naturally, he proceeded to roll in the putt for a miraculous birdie on the way to an opening round of 66. His bemused playing partner, Larry Nelson, said afterwards: "Seve is different. He just wants to shoot lower scores than anybody else."

By the end of the second day, he had added a 69 for a half-way total of 135 and a four-stroke lead over the field. On only three previous occasions had players held a more commanding lead at that stage - Herman Keiser (1946), Nicklaus (1975) and Raymond Floyd (1976) had all led by five. Graham predicted: "Seve is going to have to be caught: I don't think he'll back up."

The Australian was only partly correct. Sure enough, Ballesteros maintained the momentum with a third round of 68, stretching his lead to seven strokes over the chubby American Ed Fiori, who had taken up the challenge. But like an accomplished high-wire artiste, the Spaniard would throw in a few thrilling stumbles for dramatic effect, before securing the title.

As a fascinating aside, Jack Newton, his partner for the final round, made a scathing attack on American detractors of Ballesteros, when interviewed on television. The Australian, looking directly into the camera, said: "I've read some of the newspaper articles this week and, you know, it's almost as though you guys are waiting for Seve to blow it."

He went on: "I've also heard some pretty snide, completely uncalled-for remarks from some of the players. They say he's lucky and a one-putt Jessie and all that. America's considered to be the tops in professional golf and here comes a young 23year-old and he's taken some of the highlight away from your superstars. But you know, the guy's a great player and the sooner Americans realise it the better."

Not long after that outburst, Newton and Ballesteros were battling furiously for one of the game's most cherished awards. Yet it seemed improbable when, after an outward 33, Ballesteros was 10 strokes clear. His lead was trimmed dramatically, however, by the progress of Gibby Gilbert up ahead, some splendid play by Newton and some rank sloppy golf by the Spaniard, who covered the 10th to the 13th in bogey, par, double-bogey, bogey to leave him now only three strokes ahead.

As his second shot to the long 13th finished in Rae's Creek, Ballesteros remembered Player's response at the same stage of the final round two years previously - "These people don't think I can win. I'll show them."

Soon, the ship was righted through a par at the 14th and a birdie at the long 15th. And leading by three strokes with three to play, Ballesteros determined that he would not fail, as Ed Sneed had done from the same position the previous year. In fact he completed a final round of 72 for a four-stroke winning margin over Gilbert and Newton in a share of second place.

At 23 years and four days, he had become the youngest winner in the history of the championship. And at that tender age, he had opened a door through which five other Europeans would enter over the next 19 years, so creating a period of remarkable dominance.

Ballesteros himself would be victorious again in 1983. Two years later, it would be the turn of his great rival, Bernhard Langer. Then Sandy Lyle in 1988; Nick Faldo in 1989; Faldo again in 1990; Ian Woosnam in 1991; Langer again in 1993; Jose-Maria Olazabal in 1994; Faldo for a third time in 1996 and Olazabal for a second time earlier this year.

During a 20-year period starting with Ballesteros's breakthrough in 1980, six Europeans won the Masters on 11 occasions.

When Olazabal was preparing for his final round in 1994, he read a note in Spanish which was pinned to the door of his locker. Written on Augusta National notepaper, it assured him, in so many words, that he would win the title because he was the best player in the world. And it was signed "Seve."

In a way, it was a predictable gesture from one Spaniard to another; from one half of the Ryder Cup's socalled Spanish Armada to the other. Yet it might also be seen as having its roots in a note left by Player on the locker door of a young Masters aspirant, before the final round 14 years previously.

That particular note from the South African had read: "Buena suerte, compadre." Good luck, colleague.