Rather like a decorative cornice on an elaborate German baroque edifice, Bernhard Langer continues to prove that old craftsmanship endures.

At the sprightly age of 60, Langer was swinging in the 60s at Carnoustie. Of the players teeing up in round three, only Phil Mickelson was born when the bold Bernhard turned professional in 1972.

Here in 2018, the evergreen Langer was still showing the young ’uns a few wily old tricks of the trade.

Away from the absorbing cut-and-thrust that would unravel in the upper echelons as the day went on, Langer’s three-under 68, which hauled him on to a one-under total, was a genteel, smiling, hand-waving meander that was just about as nostalgic as a commercial for a Hovis loaf.

His whipped approach into five-feet on the 14th, which set up an eagle, burnished a round packed full of experience, expertise and elegance.

This could be Langer’s 31st and final Open. Another win in the Senior Open, which he defends this week at St Andrews, would get him back to Portrush in 2019.

And given that he has won three Senior Opens, including the 2010 event here at Carnoustie, we may not have seen the last of the prolific golden oldie in golf’s most revered championship.

“This was great, it almost felt like the old days,” said Langer as he rolled back the years and birled back a few clocks amid the appreciative ripples of applause.

“I guess they [the crowd] appreciate what I’ve done in my career and that I’m still here at the age of 60 and still playing decent golf.”

As he continues to climb the brae on the age front, the aches, pains, creaks and groans are par for the course. “I joined the tour when I was 18, so that’s 43 years of pounding balls,” said the double Masters champion who never won an Open but was in the top three six times.

Fitness, spirituality, healthy eating and a drouth for competition that remains unquenchable are all part and parcel of the Langer approach.

“There are not too many of us who are still playing at this level into the 60s,” he said. “It’s not easily done, let’s put it that way. It’s a very difficult game, as we all know, and I’ve been fortunate enough to be healthy enough and love the game enough that I still work at it and enjoy working at it.

“I can understand that other guys hang it up and do TV work or become a club pro or whatever when they retire. Not everybody’s made of the same . . . you know what I’m trying to say?

“But it definitely gets harder. I wake up every morning and something is hurting. I’m just stiff and achy and sometimes painful. You have to go through that routine, warm up, and ride the bike, loosen up, stretch, get those joints moving.

“It’s labour at times. It’s not all fun. My wife says, ‘Go have fun’ and I say, ‘Well, I’m going to work’. It often feels like work.

“If I wasn’t competitive, I wouldn’t have good results and I don’t think I would enjoy or put in the effort and the time and the work.

“I don’t need to be out there to make another $10,000 or whatever. I could retire and just live a happy life. So I’m out there to be competitive.

“I like the adrenaline rush. I like to be in the hunt. And that’s what keeps me driving; what keeps me going. If I was finishing 40th every week, you wouldn’t see me out here very often. Then it would be time to go.”

There’s still plenty of golfing life left in Langer yet.