You’ve been based in Spain since 2012. What took you there in the first place?

The weather. I’d been living in London, then Switzerland, so I was sick of the cold weather. I had two options: Spain or Portugal. And I went for Spain. I’m in the Marbella area.

To be honest, back then I was on the verge of retiring from playing. I found a great place for my golf academy, which gave me a nice platform to pass on my experiences to young players. I just wanted to give back a bit to the game that has given me so much. And it’s been going well since then.

Jack Nicklaus planted that seed in me. Not long after I won the US Open, he gave me some advice. “Now that you’re a major champion, you are responsible for growing the game.” So when the opportunity to do just that came along, I took it. It has been very rewarding.

You were pretty young at that point to be retiring. Was there a specific reason?

In the year or two after I won the US Open I hardly saw my family. That was hard. But my attitude was that I needed to make the money while it was there. There is no doubt that the boys suffered; I was basically never there. But I was thinking of their future. I was right in the middle of the classic problem: do I spend time with my family and give them that, or do I make the money and provide them a great lifestyle? It’s a nice position to be in, but it is tough too.

Eventually I got to the stage where the off-course stuff had to go. I needed to work on my game. The scores I was posting made that obvious. And to that end, I switched coaches, going from Jonathan Yarwood to Gary Edwin in 2007. My plan was to ‘reach the next level,’ whatever that means. It was so stupid. I had reached my level.

I remember sitting down with Jonathan to watch the last nine holes of my US Open win. All I did was criticise my swing. For whatever reason, I was unhappy with my performance that day. I don’t know why. Maybe it was some sort of defence mechanism. I have no real explanation. Jonathan just laughed and asked if I was mad, which I was in a way.

But I’d always planned to retire in my mid-40s. I wanted to see my kids grow up. They were 10 and 12 years old then and I had already missed a lot of their lives. My plan was always to come back and play on the senior Tour. But unfortunately there is no senior Tour in Europe this year. So I’m playing a few regular Tour events, just to stay sharp and get the competitive juices going.

Campbell beat Tiger Woods to win the US Open in 2005. PHOTO: Getty Images.

You did make a “comeback” of sorts five years ago, but it was brief to say the least.

It was. When I went back to play in Abu Dhabi in 2015, I said to myself I didn’t want to be there. I knew it on the 1st tee. It was a weird experience. After not playing for 12 months, I discovered that I wasn’t missing being on Tour at all. That was the defining moment. And over the next couple of months I decided it was just time to go.

The irony was that, on the range, I was swinging great and hitting the ball really well. But when I stood on that 1st tee, there was nothing there. I flew home and felt the same way. And that confirmed my decision. I was never completely done, of course. I still planned to play senior golf when I turned 50 and get back into competing seriously when I was 49, I wanted to be able to hit the ground running. David Frost played a bit on the European Tour before he went to the States, so my plan was to do something similar.

Where is your game right now?

It’s hard to say, because the courses I’m playing right now are so much longer than those on the senior Tour. These kids now hit it so far. They all get me by 20-30 yards off the tee. I used to be the last player – or second-last player – to hit in my group. Now I’m always the first. I’m hitting 7-irons when they are hitting wedges. So they have a huge advantage.

Do I like where the game is? Yes and no. A lot of the artistry in the professional game has been lost. It’s very one-dimensional – “hit is as hard as you can and go find it.” Maybe I’m old school, but you hardly ever see anyone playing the way I did anymore. Just about everyone out here plays a one-dimensional game.

Does it depress you, what you are seeing generally?

“Depress” isn’t quite the right word. “Saddened” is more accurate. People reading this might criticise me for being an old-fart. But I have to be honest. Plus, the courses out here are so long. So it encourages the game I just described. And so many of the great courses are obsolete. That can’t be good. You have to carry the ball 300-yards off the tee now. And I can’t do that.

Could you ever do that?

No (laughs). But I had other strengths.

Having said that, I’m not playing European Tour events in order to forge a new career. My goal is just to stay sharp and not worry about the scores too much. I want to be ready for the Seniors Tour.

“I won America’s national Open beating maybe the best player ever. So, what I get now is nothing more than a lack of respect.” – Michael Campbell

You haven’t had much luck with invitations on the Champions Tour in the States.

It’s definitely a closed-shop. I’ve been taken aback by the lack of response I’ve had to my requests for invitations. I asked for 12 last year and only got one, in Canada. In contrast, Shaun Micheel got 12.  I know Paul Lawrie is in the same boat as me. And we are both major champions. Go figure. It’s obvious what is going on. It’s a shame. I won America’s national Open beating maybe the best player ever. So, what I get now is nothing more than a lack of respect. That’s how I feel anyway.

Speaking of which. You did get a bit of publicity recently when Golf Digest ran a story calling you the most “underwhelming” US Open champion ever.

My instant reaction was “here we go again.” It wasn’t a new article and I had read it before. I was tempted to retaliate with anger. But I decided to use humour instead, which seemed to go down well with fans. We all enjoyed a laugh at the story’s expense.

Maybe the writer didn’t do enough homework. I went head-to-head with Tiger. And the writer clearly had no idea about what I had achieved away from the PGA Tour. “Underwhelming?” I don’t think so.

I’m interested in taking you back a long way, to New Zealand’s victory in the 1992 World Amateur Team Championship. What are your memories of that?

No one was thinking we had much of a chance. I do remember that. But all four of us – Stephen Scahill, Grant Moorhead, Phil Tataurangi and myself – were playing well. We started maybe nine shots back. But by the turn we were tied. Then we won by six, I think. Phil and I were both right up there in the individual section too.

I do remember that the prize-giving was delayed by maybe an hour. The organisers had the American national anthem to hand, but not New Zealand’s. So they had to run down to the consulate in Vancouver and get a copy. That was funny.

What were your plans at that point? Were you always going to turn pro?

That week confirmed I was good enough to take my game to the next step. I turned pro maybe five months later.

I started in Australia. I had five starts there because I had won the Aussie Amateur. It was a good Tour back then. Anyway, I finished seventh in my first event. I was runner up in my second. And I won my fourth start. Things happened very quickly.

That’s a long way from working for the NZ telephone company.

(laughs) That’s right. I spent five years with them and left when I was 21, fully qualified as a technical officer. I still have the certificate somewhere. I did it for my parents. They wanted me to have a back-up to golf. But my plan was always to make the game my career. If you’re going to be a pro you can’t have a back-up plan. You have to give it everything and believe in yourself. It has to be 100 percent.

RIGHT: Campbell in action on the European Tour in 2020, keeping his game sharp for Senior Tour golf in 2021. PHOTO: Getty Images.

Let’s talk about the 1995 Open at St. Andrews. You led with 18 holes to play. And lost by a shot. Your biggest regret?

No. I thought that week was great. Real failure is learning nothing when you don’t win. But I learned so much from that event. I wasn’t ready for the big stuff. I knew I wasn’t going to win. I wasn’t strong enough mentally. I didn’t have enough tools to stay calm. I knew on the 1st tee I wasn’t going to win. It was so daunting. I was actually surprised I lost by only one. I shot 76 in tough conditions. It was blowing 35 knots.

But it was a huge learning experience for me. Golfers fail a lot more than they succeed. Even Tiger in his prime was at 12 percent. Mine was like two percent. So 98 percent of the time I failed (laughs). But it wasn’t really failing. It was learning.

What conclusions did you come to?

That I needed to work harder.

So it was more mental than physical?

Oh yes. I worked with a psychologist after that. But I got injured and was out for maybe a year and a half. It wasn’t until 1999-2000 that I was back to my best. I had a great year in Australia then, I won four times I think and took the Order of Merit title by a long way.

So no regrets about St. Andrews?

None. That made me the player I became. I won my major when I was ready to win one. So while it would have been nice to win the Open, everything happens for a reason. I believe in fate. I just wasn’t ready. And the golfing Gods decreed I should wait 10 years (laughs).

Are there any regrets about your career? It’s been a real up-and-down business.

Yes. That frustrates me. I regret not joining the PGA Tour after I won the US Open. I would have had a five-year exemption. So I should have gone there full-time. I didn’t because of my family. I didn’t want my kids to have to move from England. They were settled in school there. So I tried to focus on the European Tour and play seven times each year in the States.

That probably led to the “underwhelming” thing. Americans tend to care only about the PGA Tour. I’m not the only guy they look down on because of not playing there much. If it doesn’t happen in America, it doesn’t happen apparently.

I’m not like guys who have made themselves the best player in the world. I’ve always known that. I don’t have that hard edge. But I’ve always felt like I was good enough to win a major. Even before I did. I was good enough in 1995. I knew that. And I didn’t care what anyone else thought.

So I was never going to be the best, just one of the best. Having said that, Jack Nicklaus paid me a huge compliment at the closing ceremony for the 2005 Presidents Cup. He was making his speech and told millions of people, right at that moment, he thought I was the best player in the world. Tiger was sitting there. That’s the most incredible compliment I have ever been paid. I’ll never forget that moment. To have Jack say that was pretty special.

Looking back on your win at Pinehurst, what first comes to mind?

I had missed five or six cuts in a row earlier that year. But I found what I called my “golden nugget” in my swing. I ran with that. And in the US Open Qualifying at Walton Heath I holed a 10-foot putt on the 18th green to get in on the number. Then I played well before Pinehurst. I was up there in a few events, so I arrived playing well.

Pinehurst isn’t too long, but it is demanding. The run-offs make the greens play small. But my iron play that week was phenomenal. Here’s the thing about that. After two practice rounds I noticed that I was averaging 10 7-iron to 5-iron approaches. A 6-iron for me was about 188-yards. So on the range I hit a lot of 7-, 6- and 5-irons. I had those yardages covered. And I putted great of course. I had 11 putts in the last 10 holes in the final round.

All of which was a huge contrast to when I first got to Pinehurst. I had no expectations of doing well, never mind winning. I was actually working with a belly putter on the Monday. But there wasn’t one hole that didn’t suit my eye. I was comfortable and relaxed the whole week. I was hitting a lot of fairways and greens. And a long Wednesday session on the practice green at Pine Needles with my coach, Jonathan Yarwood, sorted my putting.

One more thing made the difference. I played a practice round with Vijay Singh. My bunker play was terrible. My shots were coming out with no spin. So he gave me a lesson. And over the four rounds I got up and down six times and holed-out once. Now I wish I could remember what he told me (laughs).

The best part of it all was that it came down to me and Tiger. He was playing ahead of me in the final round so I was able to watch and listen to what he was doing. I loved that I was matching him shot for shot. I’m still proud of how I handled the pressure.

You had an interesting meeting with Tiger in the toilets once it was all over didn’t you?

I did (laughs). I was washing my face after signing my card. I was a bit overwhelmed and I was feeling a bit emotional.

He came out of a cubicle and was washing his hands at the next sink. He didn’t say anything. Then he walked away. That struck me as odd. We weren’t great mates. But we had played together a few times. So we knew each other.

A few seconds later he was back though. “Well done Michael,” he said. That was nice, to get that acknowledgement.

Campbell with the US Open trophy in front of the Wellington Town Hall. PHOTO: Getty Images.

Your win had a big impact in New Zealand.

Massive. Parliament was stopped. Helen Clark was Prime Minister at the time and she was the first person to call me. I spoke to my parents after her. So it was big. The one thing I wanted to do as a kid was to be an All Black. And my win knocked them off the back and front pages. That was big for me. I got so many amazing messages from fans too.

Growing up, did your Maori background make things harder for you within New Zealand golf?

Absolutely. There was a bit of discrimination. In the 1980s, it was very unusual for a young Maori kid to play golf. On my first day at college when I was 13, the teacher asked everyone what they wanted to do when they grew up. There were all the usual answers. Doctor. Plumber. Nurse. When it came to me, I said “golf professional.” Everyone laughed at me.

I’ve never forgotten that moment. Back then, golf was viewed as a wealthy, old man’s sport. Not so much now.

Would a Caucasian kid have been laughed at the same way?

Absolutely not. That moment was a huge motivation for me. Even friends of mine – and some family members – told me they thought golf wasn’t really for me. That was the Maori culture. If you are in the community, you will be looked after. But if you think outside the box, you’re on your own. But I wanted to challenge myself. I wanted to prove that Maoris can play golf. And win majors. That was my answer to “why?”

So, being Maori is definitely one of my strengths. And one of my motivations too. It has given me a purpose. It’s the reason I’m on this planet.

Have you made a difference?

Yes. I see a few more Maori kids playing golf now, which is fantastic. But it’s always been important to me to pass on my knowledge and experience to all young kids at home, not just Maoris.

Then again, you do have some Scottish blood in you too. How many “greats’ is that before we get to Logan Campbell, who made his way to New Zealand from Scotland?

Four. He came over in 1845 from Edinburgh and became Mayor of Auckland. He had a few partners (laughs). One Tree Hill is dedicated to him.

My dad and I actually visited Logan Campbell’s home in Scotland. It was maybe a two-hour drive north of Loch Lomond, where I was playing in the Scottish Open. We knocked on the door and the owner - a big burly Scotsman - invited us in for a cup of tea. It gave my dad and I a bit of closure I think.

Were there any golfers in the family before you?

My dad played off five at his best. I played a lot of rugby as a kid though. I was a scrum-half. My mum didn’t like me playing. I loved it though. Trouble was, I wasn’t big enough or fast enough. My All Black dreams were shattered, which led me to golf.

Given how up-and-down your career has been, what does it say about your swing?

My swing was never the problem. I’ve had injuries. Back in 2008 I did my left shoulder and was on painkillers for four months. I did it grabbing my bag off a conveyor belt in Hong Kong airport. So stupid, but so easy to do. I was half asleep and saw my bag passing. So I grabbed it and felt my shoulder go. It just snapped. That put me out for three months. And then my right shoulder went.

I also had a few mental issues. I’m basically shy and I’ve never liked attention. All I‘ve ever wanted to do is play golf. But fame and fortune came with that. I didn’t like it, so one way to get away from it was to play bad golf. Perfect.

I’ve thought about this for a long time. I’d play bad to get away. Then I’d miss playing well. And go through the same cycle again and again. But my swing has never been an issue. I’ve always been able to hit the ball. I hope that makes sense.

You’re not the only one to feel that way. David Duval and Fred Couples got to World No.1, took a look around and decided they wanted something else.

Winning a major was the same for me. When I climbed that mountain I was on top of the world. But there’s only one way to go from there. That’s why I really admire guys who can get there and stay there, multi-major winners. They can do it again and again.

I did look at myself differently after I won. I was so driven to win a major my whole life. And when it happened, it was like, ‘okay, what’s next?’

I remember talking to Sir Steve Redgrave at the Dunhill Links Championship. I drove him from Carnoustie to St. Andrews, which takes about 45 minutes. He is an amazing athlete, as five consecutive Olympic gold medals shows. I grew up driven to win a major championship and when I did it felt like there was nothing else for me to do. I’m not the first guy to feel that, I know. But I felt empty. I had been going along at 1,000 miles per hour. And suddenly I was at zero. That was a huge adjustment.

I was less motivated to practise and play. I wanted to enjoy the moment. So I took time off. But Steve put me right. When he was rowing he was always setting higher goals. Which is what I didn’t do in the wake of Pinehurst.

I said to him it felt like I had climbed Everest when I won the US Open. And you can’t go any higher than that. He just shook his head. “Yes you can,” he said. “You can climb it again with no oxygen.” That is such a great attitude to have. He is a very wise man.

Still, that was in 2008. And the moment had passed for me. I just wasn’t motivated enough. That came before any decline in performance. I was still the same physically. But the desire to perform wasn’t there.

Look, winning the US Open was something special for me. I fulfilled one of my dreams to win a major and it was fantastic. But when you win a major championship it changes your life. No question about that. It also changes everyone around you. The expectations are suddenly greater. I found that hard to handle, not only from my immediate family but generally. When I was on the range or on the course I could feel guys looking at me as if I was suddenly going to win every week. That was unnerving.

“The tickertape parade through Wellington was fun. I am proud of the fact I was able to influence in a positive way so many young New Zealanders.” – Michael Campbell

How did that affect you going forward?

It wasn’t that anyone said anything exactly. But I could feel it. The compliments were nice, especially from my peers. That is the ultimate really. But I still felt like they were expecting something special from me every time I teed up. It got to the stage where I felt like I was expected to hit every shot perfect, which is ridiculous.

The first month or so after Pinehurst was hard. I settled down a bit after that though. I started to feel a bit more comfortable on the course. I played decently too. I was fifth in the Open and sixth at the US PGA and won the World Match Play at Wentworth. It was running on momentum and confidence. But it wasn’t something I could maintain for too long.

I needed a break so I took one. I did all kinds of things away from the game, the biggest of which was to go back to New Zealand, which I had to do. I’m not sure any American can appreciate what a big deal my victory was for such a small country. As I said, the whole nation basically stopped to watch me during the final round. That doesn’t happen when an American wins a major, because it happens nearly every year.

So I went home for 10 days towards the end of 2005. I wanted to share my success with the country. It was a fun time, but it was an ordeal too. I was so taken aback by the amount of interest in me. I had always been relatively famous at home, but this was a whole different level. When we got to the airport in Auckland the place was packed. It was like a pop group was arriving.

The tickertape parade through Wellington was fun. I am proud of the fact I was able to influence in a positive way so many young New Zealanders. I’ve had so many of them tell me I was an inspiration to them in their golf. That’s always nice to hear. Especially as I remember so many people telling me I would never make it. There were a lot of knockers at home. My classmates weren’t the only ones laughing. Like I said, when I told them what I wanted to do I was looked upon as some kind of weirdo. But they inspired me to show them they were wrong.

But after a few days I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Everything I did and everything I said was in every newspaper. It was scary. I needed to escape so I went to stay with Greg Turner in Queenstown. He was great and we had a lot of fun. Until word got out that is. When my family went skiing they couldn’t move for photographers. It was insane and a little disturbing for my boys, who were only six and four at the time. I felt sorry for them. That was an impactful time for them.

Was all of that such a surprise though?

I understood that my win was a big deal. But it was getting out of control. So we went back to Sydney, where we were living at the time. But we didn’t go to the house; we rented a boat and lived in the harbour for a week. I just had to get away.

Look, I’m not resentful of the attention I got. I was flattered that my fellow Kiwis were so excited. But it just got to be too much. I’ve never been a ‘centre of attention’ kind of guy. I hate it actually. But that was the start of my problems with the game.

I take full responsibility for the fact that I did so much stuff away from the game. My biggest mistake was saying ‘yes’ to everybody. I went to an incredible number of functions. I did endless outings all over the world. And it all took my focus away from golf. By the end of 2006 I was practising less and not going to the gym that often. And I began to see deterioration in my play.

Campbell defeated Woods by two shots at Pinehurst in 2005. PHOTO: Getty Images.

I was trying to make the most of my success while I could. There was a lot of money coming in. A lot. And it was hard to turn down. I remember Retief Goosen warning me about my time management. But I didn’t listen well enough. He had made the same mistakes I was making and his game suffered too.

It was just so hard to say ‘no’ to the deals I was offered. But I don’t blame IMG for what happened. It is their job to bring these things to my attention. But I did too much. As I said, I take full responsibility. In the end, it just became too much for me. I couldn’t manage all that stuff and play competitive golf to the standard I wanted.

So, are you bothered by the fact that you are remembered most for one week of your life? You won a lot of big events other than the US Open.

Not at all. I don’t really care to be honest. I achieved my ultimate goal as a player. Not many people do that. If I did make a mistake, it was not re-focusing on winning another major. I think I could have done that. But I lost the motivation and the desire. I should have dug deep though.