The Shark’s Bid For History

Greg Norman came up short in his attempt to win this year’s British Open, but one has to appreciate what he accomplished.  Here is a guy who has not played competitive golf in years, who last lead a major after 3 rounds in 1996, when he suffered his famous meltdown against Nick Faldo in the Masters.  Twelve years later he shows up and found the talent still inside him, as it is in all great champions, to muster one final hurrah.  What makes it remarkable is that he is semi-retired from the game.  It’s kind of like Byron Nelson winning the 1955 French Open, ten years after retiring from the game, but that was against a lesser field in benign conditions.  On top of that Nelson was only 43. 

The oldest man to win a major was Julius Boros, who caputred the 1968 PGA at the age of 48.  The oldest British Open champion was Old Tom Morris, who was 46 when he won the last of his four Opens – in 1867!  Sam Snead was 52 when he won his last tournament.  So for a golfer over 50 to be so close in this day and age to winning a tournament of any kind is remarkable, let alone the oldest championship in golf.   Norman hung in, leading going into the back nine. 

You have to go back to the 1920 U.S. Open to find such an old warrior ahead at that late stage.  Harry Vardon was 50 then, and nature did him in, as a gale blew across the course and his putting betrayed him.  Norman experienced something of the same fate, but he didn’t shrink from the pressure.  He just succumbed to age and history.  I take my hat off to him, and appreciate his guts to even be there, after all the diappointments in his past.  I wish he could have won, for history’s sake, but his four days at Royal Birkdale will live on, and in that sense he did make history.  Thanks for the great ride.

The Legend of Tiger Grows

Tiger Woods is not of this world. I have been watching golf since 1974 and have studied its history closely, and conclude that this man is beyond description. Not only is he blessed with unspeakable physical talent, but also possesses the combined hearts of all the best champions of the game. He hates to lose, always. He never gives up, ever. Yesterday he gouged a third shot from the rough to within 15 feet and made the putt to tie Rocco Mediate and have a chance to win in a playoff today. He was dead, but is never dead. 

Other players don’t have a chance from that lie.  Tiger always has a chance. Always. Even more than Nicklaus – who I thought was superhuman – and Tiger did this on a knee that was gimpy. I mean he was limping around like Ben Hogan after hge was hit by a bis in 1949. Has Tiger ever missed a putt? Remember when he made all those putts to win the 1996 U.S. Amateur when he was dead in that match. The putt to beat Bob May in the 2000 PGA? All the other “regular” events that have become a blur of perfection. And yesterday, 15 feet that he had to make. It may not have had the break of the 12-footer Bobby Jones made on the 72nd hole at Winged Foot in the 1927 U.S. Open, but it was at least as improbable.

It gave him life, at the expense of another victim. For today was a fait accompli. I’ m just so proud of Rocco for playing him like a man today and not lying down. Rocco is a throwback, a guy with a swing out of the 1940s, and he’s played through back problems that would have shelved 90% of the timid souls on Tour. So kudos to you Rocco! But you were up against the Tiger, the man with the gift.

Bob Ferguson, who won the British Open three time in the 19th century, once said: “Nerve, enthusiasm, and practice are the three essentials to golf. But to be great requires the gift.” The gift, indeed! That gift has been passed down from Allan Robertson to Young Tom Morris to Harry Vardon to Bobby Jones to Sam Snead to Jack Nicklaus and now to Tiger Woods. He’s the best of them all, and that’s saying something coming from me, the man who said when Tiger turned pro that he would win maybe 15-20 tournaments. I ate my words long ago and now just appreciate his gift and his greatness. We golf fans are lucky to live to witness his feats, believe me.

The Evolution of Golf Equipment

In the beginnings of the game, players used mostly wooden clubs, hand-made by skilled craftsmen, many of whom also made bows for archers. Before the 17th century, balls were made of wood, boxwood being quite common.  They were then replaced by leather ones stuffed with feathers. Iron clubs, made by blacksmiths, were heavy and cumbersome instruments, and used only to extricate one’s ball from a horrible lie, since they had a tendency to rip a ball to pieces.  Clubs and balls evolved and by the late 1800s golf became affordable to the masses.

Old Tom Morris, one of the most famous names in the history of golf, described the process of making feathery balls: “You had a little pocket composed of bull’s hide, which had previously been cured with alum, and then you stuffed it as full as possible with feathers. You could put about a hatful of feathers into one ball, and the stuffing of them was no easy job, I can tell you.  When that was done, you had just to sew up the opening in the side of the pocket and your ball was made.” The ball then received three coats of paint.

 

An experienced man could make four balls a day.  They were thus scarce and expensive.  In addition, many were more oblong than round, so putting was an adventure in those days.  A player could hit the ball 160-170 yards with his “Play Club” (equivalent to today’s driver). If a ball lasted one round you had gotten your money’s worth.

 

The featherie ball was THE ball used from the 1700s unitl the late 1840s, when the gutta perch ball replaced it.  Gutta percha is a solidified form of latex tapped from trees indigenous to Malaya. Using a mold to shape warm chunks of this rubber into a ball, a man could now make a dozen “gutties,” as they were called, to every feather ball, at a price was a quarter that of the old ball.

 

The guttie was replaced in 1902 by the Haskell rubber core ball, which took the game into the 20th century.  As many players had had griped about the guttie ball changing the game, so did many about the Haskell, which propelled the ball another 20 yards down the fairway, with less effort.  As John Low claimed in his 1906 book Concerning Golf: “The worst feature of the new balls is the distance they travel from a mis-hit.  Not only had the old ball to be hit hard, but it had to be hit accurately, or it would not go at all.”  We hear the same arguments today about the modern ball.

 

The game continues to evolve, and debate still rages when new equipment is developed.  Better clubs, better balls, and better players make it a different game in some respects; but change is inevitable.