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Post by inger on Mar 5, 2022 17:53:07 GMT -5
One of my favorite stories was a teenage Arnold Palmer watching his father being dressed down by a muckity-muck who complained about him letting his son occasionally hit balls on the course. Palmer later bought the golf course. How's that for winning the long game? I've been meaning to come back to this, and sitting here watching Arnie's tournament at Bay Hill (still on my bucket list; I did get to Jack's outside of Columbus once) reminded me. One of the great Arnie stories took place very nearby to me at Merion Country Club outside of Philly (which BTW is where Bobby Jones won the US Amateur to complete his Grand Slam in 1930.) Although the story of Francis Ouimet winning the US Open in 1913 is very well known, the first American to win that tournament was Philly's own John McDermott, who won it in 1911 and again in 1912. Every US Open before that had been won by a Brit or Scot, many of them based in the US by that point. Two months shy of his twentieth birthday, McDermott remains the youngest US Open winner ever (and second youngest of any major winner behind Young Tom Morris who was 17 when we won the Open in 1868.) McDermott went on to finish fourth in the US Open won by Ouimet over Harry Vardon and Ted Ray in 1913. Then in 1914 he suffered what was then called "a nervous breakdown" and spent most of the rest of his life living in state mental hospitals. Although he was occasionally let out to play in a few tournaments in the 1920s, he became increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative. He did play some golf on a small course at the hospital, and by the 1950s, when he was in his 60s and stabilizing just a bit, he occasionally got out under supervision to play at some local courses. In 1971, when he was nearly 80 years old and largely forgotten, he attended the US Open being held at Merion, where Lee Trevino defeated Jack Nicklaus in a playoff. On the first day of the tournament, which he attended with his devoted sister Gertrude, McDermott, who at that point was still dressed in the style of the 1920s, wandered away from her and into the Pro Shop at Merion. A twenty-something assistant manager at the shop, seeing this decrepit-looking disoriented old man, shushed him out of the store. Through his sister's actions, word of this somehow got back to Arnie. Palmer sought out McDermott, spoke with him golfer to golfer, and personally escorted him back into the Pro Shop. Needless to say, nobody there was going to dispute Arnold Palmer. Not only did Arnie do that, but he made McDermott his personal special guest and made sure he had VIP treatment for the tournament. There wasn't press coverage of it at the time, and it was only because of McDermott's sister that the action later became known. My guess is that Arnie did things like this dozens of times. I know he became a confidant of Walter Hagen when the great Haig was in declining health. He always reverenced those who came before him. John McDermott died a few months after that US Open. It seems like there might be a movie in there somewhere. BTW, Hagen himself visited McDermott when John was in the state mental hospital in the 1920s and played golf with him on the six-hole course there. The Haig was brash and loved the spotlight, but he was at bottom a very kind man who also appreciated those who had played before him. Those with reverence for golf often seem to have the same for people and life in general… |
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Post by domeplease on Mar 5, 2022 17:56:47 GMT -5
One of my favorite stories was a teenage Arnold Palmer watching his father being dressed down by a muckity-muck who complained about him letting his son occasionally hit balls on the course. Palmer later bought the golf course. How's that for winning the long game? I've been meaning to come back to this, and sitting here watching Arnie's tournament at Bay Hill (still on my bucket list; I did get to Jack's outside of Columbus once) reminded me. One of the great Arnie stories took place very nearby to me at Merion Country Club outside of Philly (which BTW is where Bobby Jones won the US Amateur to complete his Grand Slam in 1930.) Although the story of Francis Ouimet winning the US Open in 1913 is very well known, the first American to win that tournament was Philly's own John McDermott, who won it in 1911 and again in 1912. Every US Open before that had been won by a Brit or Scot, many of them based in the US by that point. Two months shy of his twentieth birthday, McDermott remains the youngest US Open winner ever (and second youngest of any major winner behind Young Tom Morris who was 17 when we won the Open in 1868.) McDermott went on to finish fourth in the US Open won by Ouimet over Harry Vardon and Ted Ray in 1913. Then in 1914 he suffered what was then called "a nervous breakdown" and spent most of the rest of his life living in state mental hospitals. Although he was occasionally let out to play in a few tournaments in the 1920s, he became increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative. He did play some golf on a small course at the hospital, and by the 1950s, when he was in his 60s and stabilizing just a bit, he occasionally got out under supervision to play at some local courses. In 1971, when he was nearly 80 years old and largely forgotten, he attended the US Open being held at Merion, where Lee Trevino defeated Jack Nicklaus in a playoff. On the first day of the tournament, which he attended with his devoted sister Gertrude, McDermott, who at that point was still dressed in the style of the 1920s, wandered away from her and into the Pro Shop at Merion. A twenty-something assistant manager at the shop, seeing this decrepit-looking disoriented old man, shushed him out of the store. Through his sister's actions, word of this somehow got back to Arnie. Palmer sought out McDermott, spoke with him golfer to golfer, and personally escorted him back into the Pro Shop. Needless to say, nobody there was going to dispute Arnold Palmer. Not only did Arnie do that, but he made McDermott his personal special guest and made sure he had VIP treatment for the tournament. There wasn't press coverage of it at the time, and it was only because of McDermott's sister that the action later became known. My guess is that Arnie did things like this dozens of times. I know he became a confidant of Walter Hagen when the great Haig was in declining health. He always reverenced those who came before him. John McDermott died a few months after that US Open. It seems like there might be a movie in there somewhere. BTW, Hagen himself visited McDermott when John was in the state mental hospital in the 1920s and played golf with him on the six-hole course there. The Haig was brash and loved the spotlight, but he was at bottom a very kind man who also appreciated those who had played before him. GREAT STORY!!! Thanks for sharing such...
HOW ABOUT THIS:
Two double eagles in one round? An amateur golfer pulled off this remarkable feat at PGA West.
YES PAIGE I will listen to your Podcast...and do whatever you tell me to do!!!
Paige Spiranac Reveals The 1 Thing She Won’t Talk About.
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Post by rizzuto on Mar 5, 2022 18:39:08 GMT -5
One of my favorite stories was a teenage Arnold Palmer watching his father being dressed down by a muckity-muck who complained about him letting his son occasionally hit balls on the course. Palmer later bought the golf course. How's that for winning the long game? I've been meaning to come back to this, and sitting here watching Arnie's tournament at Bay Hill (still on my bucket list; I did get to Jack's outside of Columbus once) reminded me. One of the great Arnie stories took place very nearby to me at Merion Country Club outside of Philly (which BTW is where Bobby Jones won the US Amateur to complete his Grand Slam in 1930.) Although the story of Francis Ouimet winning the US Open in 1913 is very well known, the first American to win that tournament was Philly's own John McDermott, who won it in 1911 and again in 1912. Every US Open before that had been won by a Brit or Scot, many of them based in the US by that point. Two months shy of his twentieth birthday, McDermott remains the youngest US Open winner ever (and second youngest of any major winner behind Young Tom Morris who was 17 when we won the Open in 1868.) McDermott went on to finish fourth in the US Open won by Ouimet over Harry Vardon and Ted Ray in 1913. Then in 1914 he suffered what was then called "a nervous breakdown" and spent most of the rest of his life living in state mental hospitals. Although he was occasionally let out to play in a few tournaments in the 1920s, he became increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative. He did play some golf on a small course at the hospital, and by the 1950s, when he was in his 60s and stabilizing just a bit, he occasionally got out under supervision to play at some local courses. In 1971, when he was nearly 80 years old and largely forgotten, he attended the US Open being held at Merion, where Lee Trevino defeated Jack Nicklaus in a playoff. On the first day of the tournament, which he attended with his devoted sister Gertrude, McDermott, who at that point was still dressed in the style of the 1920s, wandered away from her and into the Pro Shop at Merion. A twenty-something assistant manager at the shop, seeing this decrepit-looking disoriented old man, shushed him out of the store. Through his sister's actions, word of this somehow got back to Arnie. Palmer sought out McDermott, spoke with him golfer to golfer, and personally escorted him back into the Pro Shop. Needless to say, nobody there was going to dispute Arnold Palmer. Not only did Arnie do that, but he made McDermott his personal special guest and made sure he had VIP treatment for the tournament. There wasn't press coverage of it at the time, and it was only because of McDermott's sister that the action later became known. My guess is that Arnie did things like this dozens of times. I know he became a confidant of Walter Hagen when the great Haig was in declining health. He always reverenced those who came before him. John McDermott died a few months after that US Open. It seems like there might be a movie in there somewhere. BTW, Hagen himself visited McDermott when John was in the state mental hospital in the 1920s and played golf with him on the six-hole course there. The Haig was brash and loved the spotlight, but he was at bottom a very kind man who also appreciated those who had played before him. Wonderful post, Pipps! In the film version of The Greatest Game Ever Played,” John McDermott was portrayed as a fiery and rather volatile personality. I always wondered if that decision was based on something historical or simply artistic license for the purpose of creating tension in the film narrative. I wish I had Frost’s book here to check his description of McDermott’s demeanor. Everything I own is in Iowa. Arnie never forgot where he came from and his love of golf knew no bounds. Palmer spent much of his free time tinkering with golf clubs in his shop. Always searching for the better mousetrap. Hagen got a bad rap because he was seen by some as an unseemly professional, juxtaposed to Bobby Jones’ perpetual gentlemanly amateur status. Hagen was simply pragmatic in not wanting to starve playing the game he loved and for which he had been granted a an incredible gift to play. I admire Hagen for many reasons but one is that he played with the innocence and faith of a weekend golfer, getting into trouble and then going for some impossible high risk, high reward shot. Of course, unlike duffers like me, Hagen more often pulled off those miraculous shots. Also, like Ali did for boxing, Hagen understood the value of promotion. His brashness had as many people pulling against him as for him, which just sells more tickets. |
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Post by pippsheadache on Mar 5, 2022 19:55:43 GMT -5
Wonderful post, Pipps! In the film version of The Greatest Game Ever Played,” John McDermott was portrayed as a fiery and rather volatile personality. I always wondered if that decision was based on something historical or simply artistic license for the purpose of creating tension in the film narrative. I wish I had Frost’s book here to check his description of McDermott’s demeanor. Everything I own is in Iowa. Arnie never forgot where he came from and his love of golf knew no bounds. Palmer spent much of his free time tinkering with golf clubs in his shop. Always searching for the better mousetrap. Hagen got a bad rap because he was seen by some as an unseemly professional, juxtaposed to Bobby Jones’ perpetual gentlemanly amateur status. Hagen was simply pragmatic in not wanting to starve playing the game he loved and for which he had been granted a an incredible gift to play. I admire Hagen for many reasons but one is that he played with the innocence and faith of a weekend golfer, getting into trouble and then going for some impossible high risk, high reward shot. Of course, unlike duffers like me, Hagen more often pulled off those miraculous shots. Also, like Ali did for boxing, Hagen understood the value of promotion. His brashness had as many people pulling against him as for him, which just sells more tickets. Rizz, you have excellent recall. I have Frost's book right here next to me, and that portrayal of McDermott is universally accepted as far as I know. He was considered to be abrasive and a high-strung braggart in his youth -- he was reprimanded by the USGA for his taunting behavior toward Vardon and Ray after defeating them in a match at Shawnee-On-The-Delaware. In retrospect, much of that behavior might be attributed to the mental illness that became obvious a year or so later, but at the time it was simply chalked up as poor sportsmanship. Perhaps it was something in between, who knows? A deceased friend of mine, Bill Johnson, was golf coach at Dartmouth for 35 years. His wife Izzy graduated from high school with me and also coached women's golf at Dartmouth for many years. Bill played on the tour in his younger days and was club pro at several courses before finding his calling as a college coach. He got to know Walter Hagen in The Haig's last years in Michigan. He just worshipped Hagen, who was quite ill for much of that time. Bill said there should be a statue of Walter Hagen in front of every course where professional golf was played, he was that important to the status of golf. Hagen was in many ways golf's equivalent of Babe Ruth -- gifted, supremely confident, unimpressed by status, a one-man party, inventive enough to take the game in a different direction -- and yeah, a heavy drinker and smoker and inveterate skirt-chaser. There is a very good book on Hagen's life, "Sir Walter," by Tom Clavin. Another I have that is worth checking out is "Sir Walter and Mr. Jones" by Stephen Lowe, although if memory serves Clavin's book was better. Anyway, I was just thumbing through Clavin's work and read the part about a near end-of-life tribute to Hagen held at the Traverse City Golf and Country Club. Tributes poured in from old pals of Hagen's like Dwight Eisenhower, the Duke of Windsor (they were very close), Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, etc. At this point in his life The Haig had lost his larynx to throat cancer (how Ruthian) and could only whisper his acknowledgments of thanks. Arnold Palmer -- there's that name again -- took time from his tour schedule and flew his own plane through nasty weather to Traverse City to be there. Arnie brought the gathering to tears when he ended his tribute by saying "If it were not for you Walter, this dinner tonight would be downstairs in the pro shop, not in the ballroom." |
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Post by rizzuto on Mar 5, 2022 21:44:02 GMT -5
Wonderful post, Pipps! In the film version of The Greatest Game Ever Played,” John McDermott was portrayed as a fiery and rather volatile personality. I always wondered if that decision was based on something historical or simply artistic license for the purpose of creating tension in the film narrative. I wish I had Frost’s book here to check his description of McDermott’s demeanor. Everything I own is in Iowa. Arnie never forgot where he came from and his love of golf knew no bounds. Palmer spent much of his free time tinkering with golf clubs in his shop. Always searching for the better mousetrap. Hagen got a bad rap because he was seen by some as an unseemly professional, juxtaposed to Bobby Jones’ perpetual gentlemanly amateur status. Hagen was simply pragmatic in not wanting to starve playing the game he loved and for which he had been granted a an incredible gift to play. I admire Hagen for many reasons but one is that he played with the innocence and faith of a weekend golfer, getting into trouble and then going for some impossible high risk, high reward shot. Of course, unlike duffers like me, Hagen more often pulled off those miraculous shots. Also, like Ali did for boxing, Hagen understood the value of promotion. His brashness had as many people pulling against him as for him, which just sells more tickets. Rizz, you have excellent recall. I have Frost's book right here next to me, and that portrayal of McDermott is universally accepted as far as I know. He was considered to be abrasive and a high-strung braggart in his youth -- he was reprimanded by the USGA for his taunting behavior toward Vardon and Ray after defeating them in a match at Shawnee-On-The-Delaware. In retrospect, much of that behavior might be attributed to the mental illness that became obvious a year or so later, but at the time it was simply chalked up as poor sportsmanship. Perhaps it was something in between, who knows? A deceased friend of mine, Bill Johnson, was golf coach at Dartmouth for 35 years. His wife Izzy graduated from high school with me and also coached women's golf at Dartmouth for many years. Bill played on the tour in his younger days and was club pro at several courses before finding his calling as a college coach. He got to know Walter Hagen in The Haig's last years in Michigan. He just worshipped Hagen, who was quite ill for much of that time. Bill said there should be a statue of Walter Hagen in front of every course where professional golf was played, he was that important to the status of golf. Hagen was in many ways golf's equivalent of Babe Ruth -- gifted, supremely confident, unimpressed by status, a one-man party, inventive enough to take the game in a different direction -- and yeah, a heavy drinker and smoker and inveterate skirt-chaser. There is a very good book on Hagen's life, "Sir Walter," by Tom Clavin. Another I have that is worth checking out is "Sir Walter and Mr. Jones" by Stephen Lowe, although if memory serves Clavin's book was better. Anyway, I was just thumbing through Clavin's work and read the part about a near end-of-life tribute to Hagen held at the Traverse City Golf and Country Club. Tributes poured in from old pals of Hagen's like Dwight Eisenhower, the Duke of Windsor (they were very close), Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, etc. At this point in his life The Haig had lost his larynx to throat cancer (how Ruthian) and could only whisper his acknowledgments of thanks. Arnold Palmer -- there's that name again -- took time from his tour schedule and flew his own plane through nasty weather to Traverse City to be there. Arnie brought the gathering to tears when he ended his tribute by saying "If it were not for you Walter, this dinner tonight would be downstairs in the pro shop, not in the ballroom."  And, Arnie was spot on, as was your friend Bill Johnson. Bobby Jones was near angelic in terms of the respect and reverence he engendered, but just as it took the bigger than life personality of Babe Ruth to redefine baseball into America's Pastime, Walter Hagen was essential to this country's embracement of golf. Without Hagen, professional golf may have remained for decades a quaint, mostly aristocratic European diversion to the average American sports' page reader. I'm almost certain that I have "Sir Walter and Mr. Jones" on one of my bookshelves; however, thank you for the mention of "Sir Walter" by Tom Clavin. That's another to add to my future reading list. My grandfather on my father's side of the family had cancer of the pharynx and was left with a hole in his throat, covered by a bib. I never knew his real voice, though my older brothers do. To speak, my grandfather used something we referred to as "The Instrument" to vibrate his vocal cords to speak. The result was a gravely emanation without inflection or change in pitch. As a very young lad, it was difficult for me to decipher what my grandfather said, which made me feel guilt and shame that I could not understand when he spoke to me or asked me a direct question. In college, I wrote a short story about those feelings called "Reading the Signs," a snapshot into a visit to my father's childhood home. |
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Post by inger on Mar 5, 2022 22:02:03 GMT -5
Rizz, you have excellent recall. I have Frost's book right here next to me, and that portrayal of McDermott is universally accepted as far as I know. He was considered to be abrasive and a high-strung braggart in his youth -- he was reprimanded by the USGA for his taunting behavior toward Vardon and Ray after defeating them in a match at Shawnee-On-The-Delaware. In retrospect, much of that behavior might be attributed to the mental illness that became obvious a year or so later, but at the time it was simply chalked up as poor sportsmanship. Perhaps it was something in between, who knows? A deceased friend of mine, Bill Johnson, was golf coach at Dartmouth for 35 years. His wife Izzy graduated from high school with me and also coached women's golf at Dartmouth for many years. Bill played on the tour in his younger days and was club pro at several courses before finding his calling as a college coach. He got to know Walter Hagen in The Haig's last years in Michigan. He just worshipped Hagen, who was quite ill for much of that time. Bill said there should be a statue of Walter Hagen in front of every course where professional golf was played, he was that important to the status of golf. Hagen was in many ways golf's equivalent of Babe Ruth -- gifted, supremely confident, unimpressed by status, a one-man party, inventive enough to take the game in a different direction -- and yeah, a heavy drinker and smoker and inveterate skirt-chaser. There is a very good book on Hagen's life, "Sir Walter," by Tom Clavin. Another I have that is worth checking out is "Sir Walter and Mr. Jones" by Stephen Lowe, although if memory serves Clavin's book was better. Anyway, I was just thumbing through Clavin's work and read the part about a near end-of-life tribute to Hagen held at the Traverse City Golf and Country Club. Tributes poured in from old pals of Hagen's like Dwight Eisenhower, the Duke of Windsor (they were very close), Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, etc. At this point in his life The Haig had lost his larynx to throat cancer (how Ruthian) and could only whisper his acknowledgments of thanks. Arnold Palmer -- there's that name again -- took time from his tour schedule and flew his own plane through nasty weather to Traverse City to be there. Arnie brought the gathering to tears when he ended his tribute by saying "If it were not for you Walter, this dinner tonight would be downstairs in the pro shop, not in the ballroom." And, Arnie was spot on, as was your friend Bill Johnson. Bobby Jones was near angelic in terms of the respect and reverence he engendered, but just as it took the bigger than life personality of Babe Ruth to redefine baseball into America's Pastime, Walter Hagen was essential to this country's embracement of golf. Without Hagen, professional golf may have remained for decades a quaint, mostly aristocratic European diversion to the average American sports' page reader. I'm almost certain that I have "Sir Walter and Mr. Jones" on one of my bookshelves; however, thank you for the mention of "Sir Walter" by Tom Clavin. That's another to add to my future reading list. My grandfather on my father's side of the family had cancer of the pharynx and was left with a hole in his throat, covered by a bib. I never knew his real voice, though my older brothers do. To speak, my grandfather used something we referred to as "The Instrument" to vibrate his vocal cords to speak. The result was a gravely emanation without inflection or change in pitch. As a very young lad, it was difficult for me to decipher what my grandfather said, which made me feel guilt and shame that I could not understand when he spoke to me or asked me a direct question. In college, I wrote a short story about those feelings called "Reading the Signs," a snapshot into a visit to my father's childhood home. Through the years I’ve encountered several people that utilized those devices in my work. I usually found them to be pretty easy to understand and realized that they were blessed to be able to communicate in some manner. I haven’t encountered one in years, which makes me wonder if medical science has advanced in some way I don’t know about. Having a family member you can’t understand is tough though. My brother in law that was married to my older sister was beset with tongue cancer and my first father in law with throat cancer, and it was a struggle to decipher either one. My brother in law was sort of like Donald Duck and would get kn the phone and just talk and talk gleefully and I would just agree with him. I hope he was saying nice things… |
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Post by rizzuto on Mar 6, 2022 2:01:33 GMT -5
To steal from Star Wars, “An elegant game for a more civilized time.” “Fat Jack” vs. “Slamming Sammy” The first time I ever played Pebble, my three-wood tee shot on the first hole ended up exactly where Sneed’s drive was! Also, on the 18th, Sam’s chip from above the hole broke to his left - away from the ocean - to the consternation of Sam and the surprise of Gene Sarazen. Well, that’s because it does break away from the ocean above the hole! I missed a birdie putt on that hole the second time I played there because it broke the wrong way! I read the putt to break away from the ocean, but the caddie of a playing partner (I had no caddie, carrying my own bag) advised that it always breaks towards the ocean and so said everyone else in my group: “It has to break to the ocean” and “Every putt breaks towards the ocean” and “It’s basic physics”…Well, I disagreed on my read but took everyone’s advice, especially a caddie from Pebble Beach. You should have seen every single person look away from me when that ball broke to my left - away from the ocean - just as I contended it would. Settled for a tap in par. Burned my bacon for not listening to myself. Lesson learned. Trust your instincts until proven otherwise. |
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Post by pippsheadache on Mar 6, 2022 6:33:13 GMT -5
Mother of mercy, that is a beautiful clip. I'll watch the whole thing when I have more time. What a swing from the Slammer. And in living color, which is rarely how we got to see him back in the day. Jack's commentaries are always brilliant. Like listening to Ted Williams talk about hitting.
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Post by inger on Mar 6, 2022 10:17:55 GMT -5
To steal from Star Wars, “An elegant game for a more civilized time.” “Fat Jack” vs. “Slamming Sammy” The first time I ever played Pebble, my three-wood tee shot on the first hole ended up exactly where Sneed’s drive was! Also, on the 18th, Sam’s chip from above the hole broke to his left - away from the ocean - to the consternation of Sam and the surprise of Gene Sarazen. Well, that’s because it does break away from the ocean above the hole! I missed a birdie putt on that hole the second time I played there because it broke the wrong way! I read the putt to break away from the ocean, but the caddie of a playing partner (I had no caddie, carrying my own bag) advised that it always breaks towards the ocean and so said everyone else in my group: “It has to break to the ocean” and “Every putt breaks towards the ocean” and “It’s basic physics”…Well, I disagreed on my read but took everyone’s advice, especially a caddie from Pebble Beach. You should have seen every single person look away from me when that ball broke to my left - away from the ocean - just as I contended it would. Settled for a tap in par. Burned my bacon for not listening to myself. Lesson learned. Trust your instincts until proven otherwise. At the end, hearing that if Nicklaus made the putt he could win the $3K winners share vs. The loser’s share of $2K was almost shocking. If we had equivalent players (we don’t) play a match such as this today it would be $1M or more to the winner… |
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Post by pippsheadache on Mar 6, 2022 13:16:50 GMT -5
That was a great match to watch. In fairness to Sam, he was 51 when he played while Jack was 23. But he looked great out there. No swing was more beautiful. Similar to Bobby Jones, as they pointed out.
Wonderful to hear the heavy New York accent of a resplendent Gene Sarazen. A year before on "Shell's Wonderful World of Golf" Sarazen himself had played the great British champion Henry Cotton at St. Andrew's. It was a fun show, one hour on Sundays, usually pitting one American golfer on a foreign course against a golfer from the host country. It often was filmed in exotic locations-- Rio de Janeiro, Singapore, Cape Town, Kyoto-- plus at many European courses and obviously sometimes in the US. The original series ran from 1963-1970 before being revived in the mid-90s.
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Post by pippsheadache on Mar 6, 2022 13:59:49 GMT -5
Sam Snead was an amazing athlete. One trick he was famous for was kicking the top of a seven-foot doorframe from a standing position. He could do this into his eighties.
He was also famous for telling graphic off-color stories that were not universally appreciated. Sarazen on more than one occasion got up and left the room. In Al Barlow's biography of Snead, he quotes Sarazen as saying "that hillbilly was telling those dirty stories, and I had to leave." Byron Nelson got Snead to agree to limit himself to one randy anecdote at Nelson's tournament.
Snead at one time was credited with 88 tour victories, but after he retired the PGA retroactively vacated six of those wins as not being legitimate. He remains the oldest player to win a PGA event, just a few months shy of his 53rd birthday. At the age of 62, he finished third in the PGA Championship.
Nick Faldo was awed by what Snead could do even in his 70s. He told a story about how Snead found a hickory branch and with a knife formed a club out of it. He used to challenge top pros to use it, and according to Faldo almost nobody could even get the ball airborne. But Snead could be on the green 400 yards away in two shots.
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Post by inger on Mar 6, 2022 17:20:17 GMT -5
Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf was … how to describe it.., wonderful… i enjoyed it immensely… Maybe baseball players should barnstorm this summer…
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Post by domeplease on Mar 9, 2022 15:18:47 GMT -5
The DOWNHILL Slide continues for Mick:
Mickelson will be BANNED from PGA Tour until he speaks to commissioner.
Tequila I need a Shave & Haircut:
HELLO BABY!!! My name is Do Me Please!!!
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Post by inger on Mar 9, 2022 16:18:12 GMT -5
The DOWNHILL Slide continues for Mick:
Mickelson will be BANNED from PGA Tour until he speaks to commissioner.
Tequila I need a Shave & Haircut:
HELLO BABY!!! My name is Do Me Please!!!
Spirinac is like a high priced race car. You’d imagine it to be fun to drive, but the maintenance costs are through the roof, not to mention the initial investment. And what Dome? What happens if she wants a better shifter than the one you put in her? Just saying. I doubt she’s going to accept your house-keeping for sexual favors pay scale… |
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Post by pippsheadache on Mar 9, 2022 20:10:21 GMT -5
The Players Championship starts tomorrow at Sawgrass. One of the advantages of being retired is being able to catch the first two rounds. I guess that makes you an official golf fanatic if you're catching 8 AM tee times on a Thursday. I watch so little TV these days that going back over the last several months I don't think I've turned it on for anything except golf.
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And, Arnie was spot on, as was your friend Bill Johnson. Bobby Jones was near angelic in terms of the respect and reverence he engendered, but just as it took the bigger than life personality of Babe Ruth to redefine baseball into America's Pastime, Walter Hagen was essential to this country's embracement of golf. Without Hagen, professional golf may have remained for decades a quaint, mostly aristocratic European diversion to the average American sports' page reader. 
