If, 18 months ago, somebody had suggested that his future had all been behind him, Montgomerie would have done one of two things: either stamped off in high dudgeon, always a possibility with this most volatile of individuals, or rebutted the point with some asperity.
In his heart of hearts, though, he must have been wondering whether his song was in its final verse and coming to a close. He had not been a contender for so long and just as winning becomes a habit, so does failing to do so. He knew what victory felt like -- he had had 20 of them in the seven years in succession he had topped the European Order of Merit between 1993 and 1999.
He had, however, also experienced the other side of the coin. He had won only twice since 2002, including none in 2003. Just as his 14-year marriage to Eimear was disintegrating so, too, was his game. Truly, it seemed, we were watching the downfall of a golfing Titan.
There were no third parties involved in the Montgomeries' divorce, except, perhaps, for golf itself. Montgomerie had been dedicated to his game and relentlessly ambitious, perhaps to the exclusion of all others too much of the time, during those seven halcyon years. It did not need a leap of imagination to wonder whether the Royal and Ancient game had been an over-demanding mistress who kept asking for, and being given, more.
But now here he was, a busted flush in a high-rolling game. Or so it seemed. In retrospect, perhaps the turning point in what was to become a return from a dark place he had not visited for years -- at one time, he had fallen to No 83 in the world rankings -- came in a suburb of Detroit in September last year.
He had been a talismanic figure in the European cause during the 90s but had needed a wild-card selection by Bernhard Langer, the captain, to play at Oakland Hills. Montgomerie has admitted since that he was not sure if Langer would pick him or not, although being omitted would, in truth, never have been an option for Langer.
Montgomerie was simply superb in the United States. He scored three points out of four and the putt he holed to beat David Toms was the stroke that meant that Europe had retained the cup and also maintained his unbeaten record in seven singles matches.
It was the pivotal moment in the burly Scot's fortunes. His belief in himself had returned and it did not take long before he demonstrated it. He finished outside the top ten only once in his first six appearances of the 2005 season -- and in that one he was eleventh. But his path in that spell was not always a smooth one.
His worst moment in an otherwise seminal year came when he was accused of not replacing his ball in the correct place after lightning had caused a cessation of play in the Indonesian Open and although he retained his place -- he tied for fourth -- and the prize money, which he promptly donated to the Asian Tsunami appeal, the row rumbled on for months. He was upset by the allegations of some of his peers but, if anything, it merely strengthened his resolve.
The two performances that not only boosted his chances of winning the money list but also confirmed that he was again in the thick of it were his second place to Tiger Woods in the 134th Open Championship in July and his return to Old course to win the dunhill links championship in October. It was his first individual victory at the home of golf.
It was also his only win of the season, but there were 13 other top ten, all but one on the European Tour, to augment it. He would not admit it in a million daybreaks and sunsets, but he had been away. This latest triumph on the other side of the world -- and that precious ninth place in the global order -- serves only to underline the fact that he is back with a vengeance.