Paul McGinley has described Severiano Ballesteros as the Elvis Presley of golf, referring, of course, to the showmanship, the charisma, the impact, not the undignified end. But Ballesteros had something in common with Elvis’s more deluded fans. The refusal to accept it is over, that the moment has passed, the King is dead.

Shortly before his 50th birthday in April, Ballesteros had rounds of 86 and 80 at the Masters. He had a tilt at the seniors circuit but finished last in an event in Alabama. Then he had a health scare: an irregular heartbeat, which he attributed to the stress of deciding to retire. He made the formal announcement at Carnoustie in July, 12 years after he last won a tournament, finally terminating an agonising and prolonged subsidence.

“The mind is still very sharp, the mind is still good,” he said. “I can visualise the shots, see which way I’m supposed to go, but what the mind and the heart feel is one thing, it’s another thing not being able to do it because the body just doesn’t understand.”

Rough, trees, car parks: Ballesteros could escape anything, except betrayal by his own body. His back ailment had been chronic since an injury from boxing as a teenager. It had screamed at him for years: “Stop. Give up. You can’t do it any more.” He wouldn’t listen, ignored the humiliation of missed cut after missed cut.

“I was playing because I believed I was capable of winning, but obviously my physical condition didn’t allow me to play the way I wanted. I was playing one tournament here, one tournament there, every four months, every six months, it was impossible,” he said.

So what now? “I have been very busy because of the documentary, the book [his autobiography]. And the golf course design business. That’s very special. My number one priority is my three children. The other one is to create a chain of golf schools.”

At night, the young Ballesteros would sneak into the course by his home near Santander and hit a few balls. He is playing in the dark again now, groping around in the blackness of the ordinary. “I’m living like a normal person,” he said. “I have been very tranquil, played golf with my friends, my children and exercised, going to the beach, the movies, all these things I haven’t done before and now I have the time to do it. It’s been easy, it’s been good.” Repeat it often enough, Seve, and you might truly believe it. “I’m having a good time and not missing the competition.”

Competition, singular. Life was not a series of tournaments, it was one long contest - against other golfers, the establishment, the fitful nature of his genius. “In one way it’s a relief from all the pressure that I had for many years. In another way, I feel a little bit empty because I stopped doing what I enjoy and what I really love, the game.”

How does he cope without the buzz? “It’s not over, it’s not over because I’m still playing golf with my friends, with my children, I still produce good shots. Certainly the people who don’t know me don’t see that because they’re not there, the audience don’t see that on TV, but I still produce good things when I play.”

One wonders how much solace the occasional great shot can bring when there is no one there to see it. The answer, given what he says next, is probably: not enough. For Ballesteros, closure does not come at a press conference, it arrives before the British galleries who made him feel more loved here than anywhere else, at the tournament where he fizzed like a firework.

He ruled out another try at the seniors’ tour but wants to return to the course where he won the Open in 1984. “There’s a very strong possibility that I may go back and play the Open at St Andrews in 2010,” he said. “Just to say goodbye to the people and to say thanks for all the support I’ve had through all the years.”

Support that is now coming from an unlikely source. Robotic in comparison with the Spaniard’s wild brilliance, Nick Faldo was a huge rival but he captained Great Britain and Ireland to victory in the Seve Trophy last week.

“Nick and I, we never were friends basically because we were competing against each other,” Ballesteros said. “That’s normal. You never see two great champions going out for dinner, because the competition carries on off the golf course. We have been spending more time together in the last two months, we are building up a good friendship.”

The interview, fittingly, has been erratic. Some simple questions sliced well wide, eliciting perfunctory responses, but occasionally, when the conversation seemed lost in the long grass, he ignited and we ended up somewhere near the hole.

Especially about his plan to compete in next year’s Paris-Dakar Rally. Finding the easiest route has never been Ballesteros’s strong point, but he intends to act as navigator, with his nephew and manager, Ivan, as driver.

“If we find a good sponsor, I would really like very much to do it. It’s the challenge. I like challenges and it’s a great challenge to go to those different countries with all the adversity you’re going to face. It’d be a very interesting experience.” A career in motor racing? “That would be fantastic. We’ll see.”

He gets up to leave. “You play golf?” “ ’Fraid not.” “You should. You’re young.”

— Seve, a documentary, is out today on DVD priced £19.99. Times readers can buy it for £12.99 including P&P by sending a cheque payable to Lace International to Seve Ballesteros Reader Offer, Lace House, 39-40 The Old Steine, Brighton, East Sussex, BN1 1NH.

Career figures

European Tour victories 50

PGA Tour victories 9

Majors titles 5 (Open Championship: 1979, 1984, 1988; Masters: 1980, 1983)

Ryder Cup appearances: 8 (1979, 1983, 1985, 1987, 1989, 1991, 1993, 1995). Nonplaying captain 1997 Matches 37: won 20, lost 12, halved 5