In 1999, in the same major, on the same course, he arrived. More blazing comet than just another bright star, he chased Tiger Woods down in a memorable final round and it didn't really matter that he came up short by a single stroke. This looked like someone who might inherit Seve Ballesteros's world, and maybe he, and not David Duval, Ernie Els or Phil Mickelson, would be the one to push Woods.

Garcia was fearless.

Stymied behind a tree on the 16th hole with 189 yards to the hole, his caddie wanted him to lay up, but the kid who had won absolutely everything amateur golf could throw at him and who was not about to the let the pro game cramp his style, closed his eyes and smashed a six iron into the roots of the tree.

The ball took off on an irresistible left to right arc and, with its owner in hot pursuit to check the result of his astonishing handiwork, rolled up onto the green. The honour went to Woods, but Garcia left Medinah with the glory.

That first season was full of teenage kicks. He signed in as pro on the PGA Tour with a little matter of a 62 at the Byron Nelson Classic, then shot a 64 in the final round to win the Irish Open at Druids Glen, and nearly won again at Loch Lomond. Easy really.

A fortnight later, he finished dead last in the British Open at Carnoustie where he wept unashamedly in his mother's arms after a humiliating 89. Then it was on to the PGA, and worldwide recognition. If its direction was not always certain, the comet showed no signs of burning up.

Seven years after that whirlwind, Sergio Garcia has six wins in America, the same again in Europe, an enviable Ryder Cup record and a bank balance that would make your eyes water.

But in that time, Rich Beem, Shaun Micheel, Ben Curtis and Todd Hamilton have all become major champions, and in that time, the Spaniard has been found wanting.

Hard to fathom, that at 26, Garcia's is already a story of unfulfilled promise. Not over the hill, but frustratingly still a long way from the top. He is younger than Luke Donald who represents Europe's new wave, and yet it seems as if he has been around forever. Unfortunate to have emerged slap bang in the middle of the Woods era, today he is a gifted player in a hole who has no option other than to keep digging.

Woods has been his nemesis on several occasions, and no more so than at last month's British Open at Hoylake where he was out in the last group on the final day with the world number one.

At the start of the final round, Garcia trailed Woods by just one shot, but at the end, the margin was seven.

After a brilliant front nine of 29 on the Saturday, all he could manage when it really counted was a 39.

"I'm a bit sad, but not disappointed, " he explained, "because if you'd told me I was going to play this well here about two months ago, I probably would've said you were a bit crazy. I feel my game is coming along."

No surprise that the exuberance and innocence of Medinah has been replaced by platitudes. Garcia may be box office, but the popularity of the early days has also gone. Dressed in canary yellow at Hoylake, he cut a figure of fun at best, and one of derision at worst.

Garcia has only made a reasonable fist of growing up in the public glare. After the 2002 Ryder Cup at the Belfry, Jim Furyk . . . not someone prone to exaggeration . . . referred to the Europe team as "11 gentleman and Sergio Garcia". The reply to Furyk in the wake of some over-zealous celebrations was predictable: "I'm sorry if I upset anyone, but I'm not going to kiss anybody's ass."

During the 2002 US Open at Bethpage, he was heckled unmercifully for his interminable pre-shot waggles, and at one stage, a spectator . . . in a reference to Martina Hingis . . . asked him what it felt like having a girlfriend who had won more majors than he had. Garcia delivered what a looked like a single-digit response which he claimed was a "fist, sort of".

Earlier in his career, he had a run-in with the respected rules official, John Paramor, and was heavily fined by the European Tour, and then more recently at the 2004 Masters, he lost his cool with the media, and no one quite knew why.

In between, he was Europe's leading player, he continued to win on both sides of the Atlantic and he delivered four and a half points out of five as America were crushed at Oakland Hills. "Tiger's game is not that far ahead of mine, " he claimed at the end of last year. "But he has that ability to make things happen. His bad shots seem to get a lucky break, or he seems to be able to make a great recovery, or sink a big putt when he has to. Nothing needs to change for me to win a major."

But things did change, and for the worse. The waggle disappeared, but so did his putting touch. The first sign of trouble had come in 2005 when he blew a six-shot lead in the final round of the Wachovia Championship, still made the play-off, but then dropped out at the first hole with Vijay Singh and Furyk.

This season, he had a oneshot advantage over Woods going into the last day of the Buick Invitational at Torrey Pines, went out in 40 and eventually slumped to eighth.

He trailed by one on the Sunday of the Players Championship at Sawgrass and lost by 12. Then in that most recent head-to-head with Woods, he flopped once again at Hoylake.

He is not even treading water on the PGA Tour where his last top-10 finish before the British Open was at Bay Hill in March. He lies in 164th place in the putting statistics, and even more significantly, he is 190th in finalround scoring with an average of just under 74.

Asked recently to reflect on Garcia's performance at Medinah in 1999, Woods said it was clear that he had the talent to win a major, but that it was "just a matter of putting it all together at the right time".

Returning to Chicago this week, to the course where he made his name, Garcia shows no sign of putting it all together. And no sign of retracing those memorable teenage steps.