Even when his second shot fanned away to the left of the green and rolled into the gallery, he could still savour the moment. He was relaxed enough to exchange a few words with the 1970 Masters champion, Billy Casper, who had been sitting close to where his ball came to a stop.

He could afford to drop a shot and not care. No one, least of all Mickelson himself, believed he would ever win a major championship and be able to smell the roses at the same time.

He is divisive. Some connect with his aggressive, devil-may-care approach.

Where other players see sanctuary, his supporters like it that Mickelson sees an opportunity. They like it that he puts a premium on family, that he signs autographs and then signs some more, that he copes with defeat as honestly as he revels in success.

Some, though, cannot abide the goofy smile, the rolling gait, the apple-pieand-cream image of the allAmerican college boy made good. It's as if they refuse to buy into the facade, suspecting that behind the cheese, another Mickelson is alive and probably much less saccharine.

Whichever position you take regarding his personality, the notion of him as a player who is turned on by risk, who would refuse to lay up on a point of principle, has to be seriously revised. Not that there wasn't some backtracking when he secured his first Masters title in 2004 with a performance that owed as much to preparation and precision as it did to swashbuckling talent, but now he is a markedly different player from the one who signed up for 42 major championships in a row and won none.

Four years ago, during yet another press conference, fielding yet another set of questions about his disappointing sequence of nearmisses, Mickelson dug his heels in. "I won't ever change, " he insisted. "Not tomorrow, Sunday, or at Augusta, or at the US Open - any tournament."

The stubbornness, the determination to fire away at sucker pins, the penchant for attrition, was seen as a cop-out. Easier when you're going down, to go down in flames. Tiger Woods, the world number one, had already seen fit to remodel his swing, and Ernie Els, Vijay Singh and Retief Goosen were accumulating major titles with the appropriate mix of power, finesse and tactical acumen.

Then Mickelson recanted, saw the light. Winning the tournaments that count was about more than talent, much more. Last Sunday, he edged past Greg Norman's total of majors, and matched both Els and Singh. Last Sunday, he reached a new level.

The change began with his swing coach Rick Smith and the short-game expert Dave Pelz. Mickelson needed to attack less and to think more.

They worked on a strategy for the majors, plotted a course for their man around the game's most demanding courses. It was about harnessing skill, but not stifling it.

Mickelson was a more measured player when he won at Augusta two years ago. He had seen Amen Corner and the back nine as a place to build a score and to chase down a leader, just like Jack Nicklaus had done in 1986. Smith and Pelz saw the back nine as golf 's boulevard of broken dreams.

If he had already shortened his putting stroke to cope with the course's viciously sloping greens, and if he had arrived at the conclusion that putting rather than chipping was also a safer bet from off some of the greens, one reminder from Smith and Pelz summed up his refined attitude to Augusta.

The par-five 15th hole can be a watershed on Masters' Sunday. Reachable in two strokes if the wind isn't a factor, it doesn't just offer a player in contention the chance to reach for an eagle, it can tilt the balance of the entire tournament. Jose Maria Olazabal's eagle a week ago catapulted him from the status of someone who was putting together an inspired final round to potential champion.

Once he found himself in contention, you would never have expected Mickelson to play conservatively at the 15th. For him, the possible reward would always outweigh the obvious risk. But Smith and Pelz had another take on the hole. Par was a good score on the 15th, they told him. Again, again, and again.

Where once it had produced eagles and birdies to beat the band, they correctly anticipated that the added yardage would bring Augusta nearer to a US Open layout. Par is king at the US Open, and now par would be more of a factor at the Masters. And par, they reminded their star pupil, was a good score at the 15th. "I didn't practise the right way, or on the right things, " Mickelson admitted afterwards. "I couldn't have done this by myself."

Smith and Pelz had also discussed the idea of Mickelson using two drivers at Augusta, one which would promote a right-to-left fade, and the other a powerful draw. Mickelson tested the clubs, both Callaway Big Bertha FT-3 models with 9.5 degrees of loft, but with the shaft of the draw club an inch longer at 46 inches, and was pleased with the results.

Rather than manufacture a shot under the intense pressure of a major championship, and rather than bring his hands more into play, he could now essentially repeat his normal swing for both the fade and the draw shot, and the clubs would do the rest.

If the approach sounded revolutionary, it has been commonplace for a player to hit a fade with the driver, and then to use a strong three wood for a draw shot, as Tiger Woods had done previously at Augusta, but the news that one of the world's best players would have two drivers in the bag for the Masters grabbed the headlines.

Some viewed it as a Callaway publicity stunt when Mickelson arrived at the BellSouth Classic near Atlanta the week before Augusta and announced he was using two different drivers. After he had shot 28-under par to win by 13 shots, the bitching stopped.

The tactic didn't just give him added flexibility at Augusta, it gave him added length too with the draw driver regularly carrying more than 25 yards further than the fade club. At the end of the tournament, he led the field in driving distance at 299 yards, and he hardly missed a fairway. The blend of power and accuracy proved irresistible.

Retief Goosen, who has written the modern book on strategy, found the transformation obvious. "Phil was way too aggressive, and took too many chances. We all knew that. Now he's got it under control." As for Els, whose wait for a green jacket continues, he too was doffing his cap. "I think Phil has really got the game for Augusta now."

If there was more drama, and more emotion in his overdue breakthrough success two years ago, last weekend's triumph was Mickelson's finest moment. He somehow willed himself to victory over Els in 2004, a win that left him relieved rather than overjoyed, but this time, there was a rare satisfaction.

Admittedly, Fred Couples was a putting accident waiting to happen. His badly hooked drive into the creek at the 13th - even though he still managed a birdie - clearly played on his nerves. At the next hole, Couples had a birdie opportunity from four feet and ended up three putting. "I didn't hit the ball like I was 46, " he ruefully explained, "but I putted like I was 66."

Woods's woes were reminiscent of last year's US Open at Pinehurst where he finished second behind Michael Campbell, and second last in the putting averages. The world number one played some majestic golf from tee to green, but crucially missed chances for eagles at both the 13th and the 15th holes, took 33 putts in all on Sunday, and three-putted six times during the tournament.

So, it wasn't as if Mickelson took all the drama out of the closing holes - Couples and Woods collaborated. But there was no doubt as to who was in control. "I think what I'm most proud of is that I didn't let other people back in it, " he said. Couples, meanwhile, had never seen Mickelson as composed and as assured under so much pressure. "It was an easy 69, he didn't struggle at all. He's a much better player than he was five years ago."

When he won his first major, there was a sense that Mickelson's achievement after so much disappointment would compromise his desire. So wealthy, so comfortable, the thirst would be quenched. Now he has won two more, in succession, and he doesn't appear to be finished.

He turns 36 in June during the week of the US Open at Winged Foot. The best is yet to come.