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The Best Golf Stories Ever Told




  THE BEST

  GOLF

  STORIES

  EVER TOLD

  For my parents and sister, who have instilled in me my passion

  for the art of storytelling.

  THE BEST

  GOLF

  STORIES

  EVER TOLD

  Edited by

  Julie Ganz

  Foreword by

  Tripp Bowden

  Skyhorse Publishing

  Copyright © 2013 by Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  Skyhorse Publishing books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Skyhorse Publishing, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or info@skyhorsepublishing.com.

  Skyhorse® and Skyhorse Publishing® are registered trademarks of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyhorsepublishing.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  ISBN: 978-1-62087-570-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  CONTENTS

  Foreword: What Makes a Great Story Great?

  by Tripp Bowden

  Introduction

  Warmup: The Ethical and Physical Aspects of the Game

  by Charles B. MacDonald

  PART I: GOLF HISTORY

  The Story behind the Rise of American Golf

  by Roger Henry Wethered, Joyce Wethered

  The Story of the First Ten Years of the Open Ladies’ Championship

  by May Hezlet

  The Story of My Return to Golf

  by J. Gordon McPherson

  The Story of the Birth of the Game of Golf

  by Garden Grant Smith

  The Story behind the Birth of the Rivalry between Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer

  by Matthew Silverman

  An Intimate Story of Miss Alexa Stirling’s Golf Victories

  by H. E. Harman

  PART II: GOLF AMATEURS

  The Story of Beginning Golf

  by W. Proudfoot

  The Story of My First Golf Lesson

  by Tripp Bowden

  The Story of the Early Days on the Links

  by Cecil Leitch

  The Story behind My First “Big” Match, and Other Lessons from My Youth: An Excerpt from Golf Facts for Young People

  by Francis Ouimet

  The Story of My First National Championship: Another Excerpt from Golf Facts for Young People

  by Francis Ouimet

  The Story of My Beginnings as a Golfer, from One Member of the “Great Triumvirate”

  by Harry Vardon

  The Story of My Life as an Amateur Golfer, from a Member of the “Great Triumvirate”

  by James Braid

  The Story of Children’s Golf

  by Bernard Darwin

  PART III: MAJOR TOURNAMENTS

  The Story of Ben Hogan’s First Major Championship

  by Jeff Miller

  The Story of Ben Hogan and the 1950 U.S. Open

  by David Barrett

  The Story of My Open Championship Victory against My Fellow Members of the “Great Triumvirate”

  by John Henry Taylor

  The Story of Masters Week at Augusta National

  by Tripp Bowden

  The Story of Ben Hogan’s Ultimate Test

  by Jeff Miller

  The Story of the 18 Holes at Augusta National

  by Tripp Bowden

  The Story of the 1897 Open Championship

  by Garden Grant Smith

  The Story of the 1959 British Open

  by Gary Player

  The Story of the 1965 U.S. Open

  by Gary Player

  PART IV: GOLF IN FICTION

  The Story of Archibald’s Benefit

  by P. G. Wodehouse

  The Story of Straight Golf

  by Anna Alice Chapin

  The Story of the Great Challenge: An Excerpt from The Enchanted Golf Clubs

  by Robert Marshall

  The Story of an Exciting Finish: A Second Excerpt from The Enchanted Golf Clubs

  by Robert Marshall

  The Story of How the Quakers Became Reconciled to the Golfers

  by Sarah Gunderson

  The Story of How Rankin Plays “Golf ”

  Miles Bantock, Ed.

  The Story of the Long Hole

  by P. G. Wodehouse

  The Story of the Golf vs. Football Debate: An Excerpt from The Halfback

  by Ralph Henry Barbour

  The Story of the Golf Tournament: Another Excerpt from The Halfback

  by Ralph Henry Barbour

  The Story of Simpson and His Decision to Take Up Golf

  by A. A. Milne

  The Story of Golf and Social Accounts

  by John Kendrick Bangs

  The Story of the Curse of Imagination

  by Bernard Darwin

  PART V: ADDITIONAL GOLF MUSINGS

  If I Were a Golf Instructor

  by Jerome Dunstan Travers

  Stories of Proper Golf Etiquette

  Joseph Walker McSpadden, Ed.

  The Story of Luck in Golf

  by Garden G. Smith

  The Story behind Tiger Woods’ Nickname

  by Matthew Silverman

  Bobby Jones and the Story behind His Golf Course

  by David Barrett

  The Story of How I Traded in My Shaft

  by Harold Horsfall Hilton

  Problems of Handicapping: The Story

  by Bernard Darwin

  The Story of How I Found “The Secret”

  by J. Douglas Edgar

  Stories of the Hole in One

  by Jerome Dunstan Travers

  The Story of the “Coat of Torture”

  by Charles Evans

  The Story of the Golf Course Mystery

  by Chester K. Steele

  Stories of Harry Vardon’s Trip to America

  by Harry Vardon

  The Story of Little Poison Ivy

  by Charles E. Van Loan

  Starting the Swing—The Universal Method

  by David Smith Hunter

  The Story of Physique in Golf

  by Harold H. Hilton

  The Story of the Charm of Golf

  by Alan Alexander Milne

  The Story: Should Married Men Play Golf?

  by Jerome Klapka Jerome

  The Story of the Tragedies of the Short Putt

  by Harry Leach

  The Story: If You Don’t Mind My Telling You

  by Holworthy Hall

  The Story of the Hong-Kong Medal

  by W. G. Van T. Sutphen

  The Story of One Golf Champion’s Predictions for the Future of the Game

  by John G. Anderson

  Sources

  FOREWORD: WHAT MAKES A

  GREAT STORY GREAT?

  TRIPP BOWDEN

  What makes a story great?” asked my muse, champagne flute in hand, a wicked little smile on her face. Wicked, as in you’re up to something and you know exactly what that something is.

  I smiled, too. How could I not?

  “You mean, what makes for a great story?”

  “No,” she said. “What
makes a story great? Two very different questions.”

  I laughed. Surely she must be joking, to pose such a question to a former Augusta National Golf Club caddy and teller of tales taller than a loblolly pine. The answer was as obvious as the nose on my face, and my nose is big as Texas.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well, there’s your answer.”

  “You’re stalling.” That wicked little smile again. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Of course I know. I’m a writer, by God. I tell stories every day.

  Good stories. Some even great, if I do say so myself.” Silence hung in the air like bats in a cave, the sun hours from setting.

  I waited for my wife to make the next move, a move that I knew, deep down, wasn’t coming. My silver tongue was temporarily tarnished. I glanced around, eyes ex-con shifty, searching through my mental file cabinets, drawers, under the bed, for the elevator speech—that quick little 30-second comebacker chockfull of decorative, picture-painting words like euphoric, mesmerizing, alluring, captivating, moving, memorable, unforgettable. The elevator speech. Where the heck was it? I didn’t know. In fact, I was coming to realize I didn’t know much at all.

  But I did, and do, know one thing.

  I know a good story when I hear one.

  How could I not, having grown up listening to tales at the bended knee of my Twainesque father, the good Dr. Joe, and Freddie Bennett, Augusta National’s legendary Caddy Master?

  Man, could those boys tell a story.

  And this is how.

  And this is why.

  Grit makes a story great. Just like in golf, the reader expects you to grind it out, to never give up, regardless of where the story might lead. Happy place, sad place. Doesn’t matter. As a writer, you are obligated to take us there. Those are the kind of stories we want to hear again and again, just like great rounds of golf, where we turn 82 into 76, because we never gave up.

  Vulnerability makes a story great. Just like in golf, sometimes you gotta take one for the team, open yourself up like a lunch box and let the reader see what’s inside. In no sport are you more vulnerable, more visible, more you-can-bump-and-run-but-you-can’t-hide than on a golf course. Great storytelling demands transparency, the wound laid open, no secrets hidden.

  Belief makes a story great. Just like in golf, you have to believe in your abilities, regardless of skill level. You have to believe in your story, have to believe your story needs to be told, needs to be shared, deserves to be shared, must be shared. With a friend, a neighbor, the world. And because you believe, the reader believes, and we want to file your story away so we can tell it again and again and again.

  Great storytelling doesn’t beat the dead horse. Great storytelling wakes that horse up, walks him around the farm, and promises the glue factory will never be in his future. Great stories inspire us. They make us laugh, think, ponder, wonder.

  So whether it’s Francis Ouimet’s story behind his first big match, Gary Player’s story of the 1965 British Open, or J. Douglas Edgar’s story of how he found “The Secret,” great stories, golf or otherwise, give us something very few things can.

  Great stories give us hope.

  Regardless of our handicap.

  INTRODUCTION

  As a tennis player growing up, I had never really considered taking up golf, a sport that tends not to be as accessible to girls in high school. Not to mention the fact that dedication to both tennis and golf requires a lot of time and resources, and thus the two appeared to be mutually exclusive . . . at least for a kid in this day and age, when you have a plate full of other academic, extracurricular, and social pursuits.

  Yet I have always been drawn to golf and have considered the two games to be quite similar, mainly in the concentration, patience, and mental strategy required of the individuals who play them. I’ve also always found both golf and tennis to be “sports for the ages”—games that many pursue well past retirement. Perhaps due to these similarities, golf has always intrigued me.

  When I began compiling The Best Golf Stories Ever Told, I initially approached the project with some trepidation. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for me to identify the cream of the crop of golf stories from throughout the game’s history. As Tripp Bowden addresses in his foreword, I was challenged to answer the question, “What makes a story great?”

  In the end, I thoroughly enjoyed the process of finding, reading, organizing, and learning from these stories, all of which happen to be quite different in scope from each other, but also are quite similar in their themes. Through solid storytelling and clear passion, the authors have all successfully highlighted many of the core elements of golf—the competitiveness, the frustration, and, of course, the excitement.

  I hope they inspire you, as they have me, to go out and pick up a club—whether you’re a seasoned pro, or as “green” as the grass that you’re playing on.

  —Julie Ganz

  February, 2013

  Editor’s Note: While some of these are whole chapters from full-length books, others are short stories, and yet others are shorter than chapter-length excerpts from full-length stories or books. The Editor has aimed to capture the best parts of these longer stories, and has worked to preserve the original language.

  Hemera/Thinkstock

  WARMUP: THE ETHICAL AND PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF THE GAME

  BY CHARLES B. MACDONALD

  ONE evening some little time ago, at “The Players” in New York, several men drew around and entered into a discussion upon the merits of the game of golf. Each having had a “try” was attempting to explain the special fascination the game had for him, and each in his way happily expressed one of the many attractions of the game. The opinion was then ventured, which Rider Haggard has expressed so well, that “Golf, like Art, is a Goddess whom we woo in early youth if we would win her.”

  I think this is true; for one not having played the game in youth, though attracted by this or that feature to an enthusiastic degree, can not fully appreciate its many sides and rarely becomes a first-class player. Golf requires the delicacy of touch and nicety of judgment incident to billiards, and the strength necessary to make a brilliant play at baseball or cricket. There is the exercise and exhilaration of riding, the companionship of an adversary or partner, animated by the same pleasure as yourself. Wandering over the links, inhaling and enjoying the fresh air of the country, the senses are awakened, and all alert, one takes pleasure in the landscape, watching the varied shades of sunlight and shadow, which become gentle features of the game, until with sunset, happily tired, he is primed to enjoy a good dinner and a restful evening. No game gives a player’s better nature a wider scope, and herein is its charm.

  Today it is played in all quarters of the globe, a sure indication of its intrinsic merit. It is a self-contained game, and sufficient to satisfy physically the strongest men, as well as appeal to the most cultured minds.

  Thomas Proudfoot, B. Sc., says, in one of his books: “No outof-door game approaches within measurable distance of golf in bringing out all the best qualities, physical, intellectual and moral, of its devotees. No really foolish or wicked or intemperate man can ever play golf or hope to do so.”

  The game of golf is a gentleman’s game, though democratic in its spirit and traditions. The Duke of York, afterwards James the Second, did not hesitate to take John Patersone, a shoemaker, for his partner to sustain the honor of Scotland and the game.

  Andrew Lang, in “History of St.Andrews,” pays tribute to Tom Morris as “the Nestor of Golf and wale o auldman”—chronicling his merits on the same pages with those of Queen Margaret, Mary Queen of Scots, Cardinal Beaton, Robert Bruce, John Knox, Doctor Johnson, and a host of other St. Andrews celebrities. No history of St. Andrews, or article on Golf, would be perfect without mention of genial Tom Morris. No game brings out more unerringly the true character of the man or teaches him a better lesson in self-control.

  The game appeals alike to all classes—professors, cl
ergymen, jurists, poets, artists, the army, tradesmen, and artisans. A practical illustration of this can be seen on any golfing green on a medal day.

  I can well remember my first game of golf. It was in 1872, with Charles Chambers, son of Robert Chambers, the publisher. I was being directed how to hold a club and strike a ball by two of the best known professors of St. Andrews University. Never have I known two professors to take the pains to teach me any other lesson. Apropos of this, it is told of a St. Andrews professor, who, being taught the game by his caddy, was lamenting his lack of skill and wondering at his want of success, that he turned to his caddy and asked his opinion. The reply was: “Oh, sir, ye see onybody can teach thae laddies” (meaning the students of the University), “onybody can teach thae laddies Latin and Greek; but Gowf, ye see, sir, Gowf requires a heid.”

  In Scotland the caddy, besides carrying the clubs, is a golfer’s mentor and a most characteristic figure on all greens. With unsurpassed opportunities of studying human nature, he acquires a keen sense of the strength and weakness of his master, and is prone at all times to express himself freely. Caddies represent largely the humorous side of golf, being to it what the typical figures Puck and Punch are to their respective papers.

  Familiar figures on the St. Andrew’s Links in those days were Principal Tulloch, Principal Shairp, Mr. Whyte Melville and his son, George Whyte Melville, the novelist, “A. K. H. B.” of “The Recreation of a Country Parson” fame, Bishop Wordsworth, brother of the poet, Doctor Baynes, editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, the Blackwoods, and the Chambers, as well as all the professors of both colleges. So much for the game and its adherents “at home.”

  As for America, everyone interested in the physical beauty and intellectual vigor of our men and women must welcome with the keenest pleasure the introduction of golf into this country. It is truly an epoch. Nothing has heretofore induced men, in all kinds of weather, to steal from their offices or leave their clubs, to take hours of exercise in the open air, enlarging the muscles and broadening the sympathies. Golf certainly fills a long felt want.

  In Chicago one small social club has already wound up its affairs, owing to the men deserting it for golf and the country, and the receipts of the leading clubs are materially less for the same reason.