His eyes are shielded by aviator sunglasses, and Miguel Angel Jimenez takes a big puff of his cigar as he prepares to explain his thoughts on aging. “Age is coming,” he says, leaning back in his course-side patio chair, straight-faced as can be and using his free index finger to underscore his point, “but I’m not getting old.”

Nice as it sounds, that makes very little sense. Luckily, the Spaniard, now 54 years young, offers further clarification: “I look in the mirror today, I’m looking at the same guy.”

On this sunny day in Calgary, that same guy’s signature curly ponytail, with tinges of blonde and brown and red and grey, sticks out behind a visor. His golf shirt is a shade of yellow so bright it’s visible from a mile away, and he’ll soon replace his loafers with spikes for morning practice. “I’m lovely,” Jimenez says, brushing a large chunk of ash off his pants — he likes to avoid ashing his cigar as long as he can, consequences be damned. “When I look in the mirror, I love what I see here. I’m 20, 21, 22, 21 — same guy.” He waves his free hand up toward his face, “Handsome, beautiful, nice, funny,” he says. “Everything.”