A Kid's View of Arnie and Jack
Thursday September 13, 2012 2:25pm
I grew up in Louisiana, and my dad got me started playing golf when I was 12 or 13 years old. We would watch golf on TV, and I was a big Arnold Palmer fan – a dyed-in-the-wool member of Arnie’s Army. I didn’t like Jack Nicklaus because he threatened Arnie’s top billing. Gary Player was OK because he was small (like me), and I thought his Black Knight persona was pretty cool. Plus he had that funny accent.
Back then, the PGA Tour played an event called the Louisiana Open in Lake Charles. My dad and I would get up at 4am to make the 3-hour drive from Baton Rouge to watch the pros. Even though the tournament was held in November, which could be very cold in the mornings, it always attracted a pretty good field – Palmer, Nicklaus, Billy Casper, Julius Boros, Mike Souchak, Charlie Sifford, Cary Middlecoff, Doug Sanders (with the colored shoes!), Tommy Bolt, Gene “The Machine” Littler – guys who were big names back then but probably unknown to a lot of you today.
The second time we went, Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer were paired together with a very early tee time. It was bitter cold. Arnie was wearing one of those funny fur caps with flaps over the ears and winter gloves. I remember him asking Jack, as they walked down the first fairway, “Jeez, Jack, don’t you have any gloves? It’s cold out here.” Jack laughed and said both of them should be used to cold weather golf since they grew up in Pennsylvania and Ohio. Despite the rumor of bad blood between them over the years, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company that morning, chatting throughout the round.
In those days, the crowds were small, no ropes and very few officials, so you could literally walk along right beside the players. They would make eye contact, say hello and even chat briefly with the fans while waiting to hit. As a new golfer and timid 14-year-old kid, I was pretty much in awe of all these famous guys who were literally standing right next to me.
On a par 4 late in the front nine, Jack hit a huge drive. Even Arnie commented on it. I asked my dad how far he thought it went, and dad suggested I ask Jack. Terrified, I eased over to Jack while we were walking down the fairway and asked, “Mr. Nicklaus, can I ask you a question?” “Sure,” he answered. Emboldened, I pressed on, “How far do you think you hit that drive?” He looked at me with a little smile and said, “About 300 yards, fella. Walk with me and I’ll give you the exact number when we get to the ball.” Could you believe it? Walking and talking with Jack Nicklaus, even though I was a card-carrying member of Arnie’s Army.
When we got to the ball, he conferred with his caddy and turned to me, “We make it 310 yards off the tee. I’ve got around 125 to the pin.” I thanked him and scurried back to the less nerve-racking world next to dad. Not helping at all, dad teased me by reminding me that I was supposed to be an Arnie fan. What was I supposed to do?
On the back nine, I finally got enough courage to get near Arnie. He smiled at me a couple of times, supplying just enough fortitude for me to edge a little closer and smile back. Out of nowhere, he asked, “You here with your dad?” “Yes,” I answered. “That him over there?” “Yes,” again. “Weren’t you two here when we teed off this morning?” “Yes,” a third time. “Do you play golf?” “Yes,” (by now, he must think I’m a total moron who can’t even make a sentence). Finally, the volcano erupted, “Mr. Palmer, you’re my favorite golfer and I’m in Arnie’s Army and I wanted you to know that you’re my favorite even though I was talking to Mr. Nicklaus.”
Little did I know that Jack was only a few steps behind me. He burst out laughing and Arnie, with that famous twinkle in his eye, chuckled and looked at Jack. “You see, Jack, I’ve still got all the fans on my side.” Jack put his arm on Arnie’s shoulder while they were walking, and Arnie looked at me and said, “Keep playing golf, kid, and keep playing with your dad. There’ll come a time when he won’t be around, and you’ll treasure every round you ever played with him.”
How true he was. My dad and I played golf together regularly for decades until he had a debilitating stroke around 12 years ago. He died 5 years later. Every time I play, I think about all those wonderful rounds when we smoked cigars, cussed and traded mountains of trash talk. When I see young people playing with their parents, I always tell them what Arnie told me. And even though I’m not Arnold Palmer, maybe a couple of them will remember.
Flint the GM
Just Let It Be
Thursday September 13, 2012 2:23pm
Every major golf organization is concerned with the decline in golf that started at least a decade before The Great Recession. Every key index points down – rounds played, price per round, number of avid golfers, gross revenues, the list goes on and on. Public golf courses, private clubs, equipment manufacturers and most of the surrounding industries like marketing companies and trade shows are all feeling the pain.
Did you know that only 7% of all golf courses inAmericabreak even or make money? The other 93% are losing money, probably including one or all of the courses you play regularly.
One of the most oft-listed reasons for golf’s decline is that it takes too long – 4½ hours to play plus travel time to and from home, and maybe a little time for refreshments after the round – easily 6 hours or more. The experts suggest we fix that problem by adding tee locations that shorten our existing courses so people can play in less than 3 hours.
Cool idea in theory, but a non-starter for practical reasons. And a bad idea when you consider the broader landscape.
Let’s start with the practical problems.
You can’t allow some groups to play from the short tees while others play from the regular tees. The people on the short tees will log-jam behind the ones playing regular tees, and the pace will remain slow for the short tee folks. They’ll be yelling at the groups in front, complaining bitterly to your Player Assistants and demanding refunds from your Golf Shop staff.
If you designate certain times each day to play the short tees, they will have to go before the regular tee times to avoid the problem described above. Are we certain the short tee people will want or be able to play in those early slots? And will the course lose revenue because the short tee spots don’t fill up, while the regular tee people get hosed because they want or need to play early?
If you designate certain days for short tees, will you have enough short tee people to fill the tee sheets? Will you make as much money compared to regular tee days? Will your regular tee customers play somewhere else when they can’t play on short tee days? Will you lose customers altogether?
It just gets crazier and crazier.
Now about that broader landscape …
Studies show too many Americans are overweight and out of shape. Not all of us are wired up to be fitness freaks, and a few hours walking around the golf course can’t be bad, can it? Even those who ride carts get some exercise. So why do we want to cut the rounds short? So we can race home and couch-out sooner, watching TV or playing video games or surfing the net (no, that kind of surfing burns zero calories). Yes, some of us will watch the kids play sports, run errands or go shopping, but many more will just be heading for the couch.
What kind of golf experience will we get on these artificially shortened courses? Your favorite hole is now a layup. That par 5 you can almost reach in two is now a par 4 (what’s the fun?). That short par 4 with the tiny green (you’re supposed to be coming in with a wedge) is now a long par 3 with an untouchable green (at least there won’t be any ball marks!). The bunkers and water hazards no longer make any sense. It’s like adding sparkling water to beer and calling it champagne.
After all, if the short course thing was really so compelling, why aren’t the executive courses and par 3 courses just raking in mucho dineros?
Finally, golf gives us a chance to enjoy nature’s peaceful setting, take in a little fauna and flora, get some fresh air and let go of all that insane crap that spins our lives at max RPM’s. To seek the secret Hogan said was in the dirt. To battle a little against ourselves and challenge the field of play. To enjoy the camaraderie of friends old and new. To be a kid – hit the ball, find the ball, hit it again. Is there really such great value in cutting that experience short? In return for what?
Let’s face it. The golf course is what the golf course is, so let it be. There’s a reason this quiet and elegant sport has been around a few hundred years longer than the NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, NASCAR and all the other alphabet sports that scream at us from TV screens and smart phones.
Just let it be.
