Within a few minutes of sinking the winning putt, Watson was pleasantly surprised that his name was already on the Open Trophy, the famous claret jug. This could be attributed to the canniness of the Royal and Ancient's official engraver, Alexander Harvey from Perth.
As he explained later: "I was able to engrave the last two letters beforehand as both names finished with `on'." So he got the name of the new champion right, which was more than the R and A captain managed to achieve while publicly congratulating "Tom Kite".
"Winning my first British Open there was obviously a big step in my development as a player," continued Watson. "But it didn't bring about any miraculous transformation in my competitive strength. That hadn't really changed. I left there still learning how to win.
"It was only when I won (his second British Open) at Turnberry in 1977 that I felt I belonged. At that moment (after eventually beating Nicklaus in a titanic struggle) I felt I was ready to play with the big boys. That was when I gained the confidence in myself that I could win at the highest level."
The impact of Carnoustie on Newton's confidence was reflected in the fact that he made only one further top-10 finish during the second half of the 1975 season, and that was eighth place behind Christy O'Connor Jnr in the inaugural Carrolls Irish Open at Woodbrook in August. His only other Irish Open appearance would be a year later, when he was 23rd behind Crenshaw at Portmarnock.
He was to fulfil a cherished ambition, however, by going on to play the USPGA Tour, where he captured the 1978 Buick Open. And though he captured the 1979 Australian Open, his best subsequent performances in the US would be as runner-up to Craig Stadler in the 1980 Greater Greensboro Open and to Seve Ballesteros - "He's a great bloke" - in the US Masters, a week later.
ON SUNDAY, July 17th, 1983, Watson retained the British Open at Royal Birkdale. He had now captured the title for a fifth time, one short of the record held by Harry Vardon. As it happened, it was to be his last "major" triumph.
Exactly a week later, in far-off Australia, Newton had attended an Australian Rules match with three friends and was about to board a chartered light aircraft at Sydney Airport for the short flight back to his hometown of Newcastle. It was raining. As the engines idled, the propeller blades whirred, preparatory to take-off.
In an action that is still the subject of litigation, 16 years on, Newton was caught by a propeller. The pilot slammed the engines into reverse, but it was too late. Newton lost his right eye, right arm, half his liver and serious quantities of blood. Indeed, but for the skill of a medical team from the Prince of Wales Hospital in Sydney, he might have died.
"The injuries to his arm and eye were minor, compared to his stomach," his wife, Jackie, recalled. "He got septicaemia and had to have a temporary colostomy while his bowel healed. Then there were the various grieving stages he had to go through for his lost limb. But Jack's attitude was extremely good. Quite an easy patient under the circumstances."
Newton's amazing acceptance of his fate remains one of the most noble of sporting stories. As he remarked philosophically: "I had two young kids and a great wife, a great family and the golfing world really got behind me. So I don't believe I had any choice. I mean I had two choices: I could go and sit in a corner for the rest of my life, or I could get on with it."
He went on: "To get to the top in golf, you've got to be pretty tough and a lot of the experiences I went through in the game really helped me. Then I was lucky because I started doing some TV commentary and I enjoyed that, because it kept me in contact with the guys I used to play against, and that's probably the single biggest thing that I miss.
"Some people might accuse me of having a warped sense of humour, but there was one thing I noticed above all else while I was in rehabilitation - and I was there for nearly a year because I was in and out of hospital for various operations. It was that among people in there with brain damage and arms and legs off and all kinds of problems, there was a common thread in that they all maintained a great sense of humour.
"That's a pretty good lesson for everyone. We all seem to take ourselves a bit too seriously, whereas if you can have a laugh and a joke, the world becomes a better place. I actually think it wouldn't be a bad experience for 18-year-olds to spend a day in a rehabilitation place and just see another side of life."
But there was almost a palpable sadness as he admitted: "I'd be a liar if I said I wouldn't mind sticking my arm back on and getting out there amongst it, because I'm a competitive bloke. But I had 14 great years on the tour, had some terrific experiences and did some things in golf that not too many other people have done."
Nowadays, he plays one-handed golf off 15 and can beat any 12-handicapper. He has also become established in golf-course architecture, quite apart from his broadcasting activities. Then there is his writing - "bloody difficult, too, with a cigarette and a glass in your only hand". He will be back this week at Carnoustie, where he and Watson will probably meet once more. And, no doubt, they will talk about 1975 and the sharply contrasting routes their lives have taken since then. And there will be no regrets.
