Ayoba King Louis

Just as South Africans were wondering what might fill the strange void left by the World Cup, along comes a gap-toothed, mild-mannered golfer from Mossel Bay to annihilate the field at the home of golf with a victory romp which sent Ayoba-ness straight off the charts.

Not that the staid BBC golf commentators know what Ayoba is. They are still figuring out how to pronounce Oosthuizen. We had a dozen variations during the final day. You would have thought a simple question to the player himself would have sufficed, in order to avoid a fourth straight day of choking on consonants.

Alas, no. Sam Torrance’s effort was possibly the worst. It sounded like he was trying to extricate a particularly stubborn piece of toffee from his back molars. Odd that, because the Scots normally have an ear for Afrikaans.

Oo-st-housen (no doubt modeled after the commentator Peter Oosterhuis), Oosterhousen, West-hayzen, you name it…the cream of the corporation’s mike-men tried it and generally failed miserably.

Someone once told me the English ear cannot process certain sounds, so no matter how many times you drum in the correct pronunciation, it still comes out sounding like a hatchet job. Maybe that’s true - they are still trying to get the hang of Lucas Radebe, remember.

You’ve got to love Louis Oosthuizen’s sense of timing. A week after the World Cup final. On Madiba’s 92nd birthday. Touche Shrekkie my boykie. (Which is, I believe, the nickname he rejoices in.) He also had the class to remember Madiba’s birthday. It was the first thing he mentioned in his touching, sincere acceptance speech. Given in his second language, of course.

Classy stuff from a classy guy who was humility personified. Ernie Els certainly has an eye for talent.

You could have got 200-1 on Louis lifting the trophy at the start of the week. To say the win came out of left field is stating the case mildly. Oosthuizen, ranked 54th in the world, won his first European Tour title at the Andalucia Open in March.

Since then he has missed the cut at the Masters, missed the cut at the BMW PGA, finished T21 at the Madrid Masters, T20 at Celtic Manor, then missed the cut at the US Open and Scottish Open. Not exactly a set of results to inspire fear and awe. He has also missed the cut in seven of his eight previous major appearances.

In terms of pure entertainment, the final round at St Andrews had little drama. Paul Casey tried to go toe-to-toe with brother Louis until the 12th before imploding in spectacular style with a triple bogey that opened up a yawning gap at the top. The commentators were polite, but you could sense they were ever so slightly tweezer-lipped at the prospect of their precious Claret Jug again being shipped off to the colonies. So they amused themselves by trying to pronounce Louis’ entire name, which is as long as the list of current British pros never to have won a Major. A number of them ultimately, and wisely, settled on ‘Louis’.

The win was one of those wonderful sporting moments that take one by surprise, like Josia Thugwane’s Olympic marathon win.

‘One of those unexplained things’, mused the doyen of golf commentators, Peter Alliss, whose wry, homespun delivery I never tiring of listening to.

Sometimes such sporting phenomena are best left unanalysed, but for me it was Oosthuizen’s nervelessness that truly inspired the charge to victory. Ice-veined behind those wrap-around sunglasses, his demeanour never changed throughout 72 holes. He crunched 320-yard, fairway-splitting drives, and putted beautifully.

So King Louis becomes just the second South African to win the Open at St Andrews after Bobby Locke in 1957. He also joins Locke, Gary Player, Ernie Els, Retief Goosen and Trevor Immelman to swell the list of South African Major winners to six. With Oosthuizen, Immelman, Charl Schwartzel and Richard Sterne on the circuit there is every chance of adding to that list in years to come.

Now repeat after me world’s media: Oo-a-stayzen; Oo-a-stayzen; Oo-a-stayzen.

Don’t forget that name will you.