Martin's 62 equals record

Appearances can be deceptive, and none more so than Miguel Angel Martin. On another day, he could be mistaken for a nondescript Spanish waiter - but yesterday, tee peg dangling from his mouth and with the hungry look of a caddie-turned-player, the man from Huelva was on a mission.

Two years ago, the Spanish armada set sail in Valderrama without him. Described then by Europe's Ryder Cup captain Seve Ballesteros as "that little man," Martin, who had been troubled with a wrist injury, was discarded (despite playing his way into the team). Things change. At a time when Seve seeks out the swing of his past, Martin has stumbled onto the richest vein of form of his career: a winner in Morocco a fortnight ago, he contrived to produce a course record equalling 62 in yesterday's final round of the Irish Open.

And, senor, did he love it? "I putted like Jesus," said Martin. "No-one could putt better than I did out there." On the eighth hole, he didn't even need the blade. A seven-iron tee-shot bounced five feet past the hole, hit the bank and spun back into the tin cup. He covered the front nine in a total of 28 strokes, including that ace. But he has a penchant for shooting low. David Feherty once observed that to shoot low, "you have to have a vivid imagination." Martin may look like a sombre Spanish waiter, yet he obviously has the mind of an artist like Goya. Five years ago in Argentina, he became the only European Tour player to shoot 59. And, last week, in a pro-am in Tenerife, he had a 61.

Yesterday morning, Martin had breakfast with Sergio Garcia. "He told me his goal was to win the Irish Open," said Martin, "and I told him mine was to make enough money to be exempt for the British Open." His closing round 62 enabled him to achieve that particular desire, but it was the way it was manufactured that was so utterly compelling.

On that front nine, the little Spaniard revelled in the cheek of it all. He lost count of his score, so did his caddie Brian McFeat from Ayr in Scotland. "All I know is that he putted like God," said McFeat. "He got the putter going, and nothing was going to halt him. We were on a roll." Yet, they stubbornly resisted from looking at any scoreboards as Martin, who had started the round in tied-29th, leapfrogged one player after another.

The clenched fist that greeted each birdie putt - and his hole in one down the glen at the eighth - was replicated for the putts that salvaged his pars at the last two holes. His par on the 18th showed his character, and his imagination. "I just don't like that hole," insisted Martin. He pushed his drive behind trees and, despite the poor lie, decided to go for the green. "I spotted the tiniest of gaps between the trees," he said. His four-wood approach finished 25 yards from the pin, on the collar of the green, and the putt for a birdie shaved the hole.

So, he signed for a 62 that equalled the record set by Colin Montgomerie when he won the championship in 1997 and equalled last year by Barry Lane. His recent golden run means he is once again in contention for a Ryder Cup place. But it no longer bothers him too much. "I had my chance two years ago, and it wasn't to be. The Ryder Cup is not my goal."

All round the course, Martin munched on a white tee. It's a old habit, but the reason is a mystery. "It's top secret, something I do and something I don't want to talk about," he said. The glove that was on his left hand, however, has found a new home in Co Wicklow. Nine-year-old Alan Daly from Newcastle was watching by the 18th hole and had the glove thrust into his hand. "Good luck, amigo," said Martin. The junior in Arklow Golf Club was too stunned to reply.

And off Martin danced to the recorder's hut. "Come on," he said to his caddie Brian. "I want you to sit beside me and check this card with me." After a round that contained few errors with his clubs, he didn't want one with the pen.