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  The feared 16th hole claimed Mangrum as a victim in the playoff, but in truth it was Lloyd who did himself in. Or perhaps some blame should be placed on what Mangrum described as a “bug fly” that landed on his ball while he was about to putt it.

  Mangrum, his Achilles heel (shaky driving) continuing to haunt him, sprayed his drive into the right rough. With a notso-good lie in the deep stuff and some trees in the way, Mangrum made his one smart decision on the back nine by laying up short of the quarry.

  He figured he could still make a par with a nice third shot and a one-putt. He hit a decent shot to the green, leaving himself with a 15-foot putt to salvage a four. Mangrum marked his ball because it was in the line of Fazio, who was on his way to a third straight bogey after missing the green. Mangrum then replaced his ball, and here is how Associated Press writer Gayle Talbot described the scene:

  “He addressed his ball carefully several times, bobbed his head back and forth the way golfers are supposed to do, and then stopped dead still. He planted his putter in front of the pellet to ‘mark’ it, lifted the sphere and blew upon it gently to dislodge the unwelcome guest [the ‘bug fly’], then replaced it as the gallery laughed.”

  The USGA’s Grainger wasn’t laughing, though. He knew that Mangrum had just incurred a two-stroke penalty for lifting his ball. Not until 1960 were players allowed to lift and clean their ball on the green. In 1950, they were allowed to mark and lift their ball on the green in stroke play only if it interfered with or might assist another player.

  Mangrum rolled in the putt for what nearly everyone thought was a par. Hogan had a birdie putt from 10 feet, but he missed. It was high drama, with Mangrum apparently managing to stay right on Hogan’s heels just when it looked like he was going to lose one or two strokes.

  Mangrum strode confidently to the 17th tee, and prepared to tee off (he had the honor from his birdie on the 15th.) Then Grainger appeared on the tee and the drama was drained from the event, replaced by confusion and an altered scoreboard that showed Hogan’s lead grow from one stroke to three.

  Grainger later said in a USGA oral history that he had trouble getting to the 17th tee to inform Mangrum of the penalty because of the rush of the gallery. When he arrived, he delivered the bad news. “Lloyd, I’m sorry to tell you, but I have to enact a penalty of two strokes because you lifted and cleaned your ball on the previous hole.”

  As Grainger recalled, “He immediately realized that he had done that, and put the club back into the bag and made the statement, ‘Well, I guess I can still feed the children,’ or something like that.”

  For Mangrum, it was a matter of Ike Grainger giveth and Ike Grainger taketh away. In the 1946 U.S. Open, Grainger had been the one to levy a one-stroke penalty on Byron Nelson when his caddie inadvertently kicked his ball in the fairway after emerging from under a gallery rope. The penalty dropped Nelson into a playoff, which Mangrum won.

  Knowledgeable spectators knew something was up when they saw that Mangrum wasn’t going to play first. Everyone quickly became aware of the penalty—though not necessarily what it was for—when the chalkboard showing the standing of the players was changed, with Mangrum going from one over to three over.

  It was a shame it had to happen coming down the stretch of a U.S. Open playoff that was so closely contested, especially on the heels of Mangrum making a great scrambling par that would have kept the pressure on Hogan. Mangrum’s absentminded move still ranks as one of the all-time golf blunders.

  It has been suggested that cleaning the ball on the green was allowed as a local rule at PGA tournaments at the time, so Mangrum might simply have let instinct take over and forgotten that he couldn’t pick up the ball at a USGA event. But the PGA had stopped using this local rule. A pro named Pete Cooper lost a tournament just two months after the U.S. Open because he missed a short putt due to having a piece of chewing gum on his ball (ironically, in that case Cooper would have been allowed to remove the gum because it was a man-made object).

  Mangrum’s comments after the round show that it wasn’t a PGA vs. USGA issue. The problem didn’t arise because he temporarily forgot he was in a U.S. Open, it was because he thought blowing off a fly was OK.

  “I had the idea you could get off anything like a bug or snake,” he said, admitting that he didn’t know the rule.

  He was wrong, but in a way he was ahead of his time. According to the USGA’s current Decisions on the Rules of Golf, a live insect can be removed from a ball in play because it is not considered to be adhering to the ball. But in 1950, the interpretation was different. At that time, a live insect was considered to be adhering, so he wouldn’t even have been allowed to remove it without touching the ball. Thus, Mangrum breached the rules twice, once for lifting and once for cleaning, but there was no double jeopardy so he incurred only a single two-stroke penalty.

  Mangrum earned praise for the equanimity with which he accepted the ruling that practically destroyed his hopes for a second Open championship. His only flash of annoyance came at the awards ceremony, where USGA President James Standish referred to the club as Merion Cricket Club instead of Merion Golf Club. When called to the podium to accept his runner-up medal, Mangrum said, “Well, the brass might not know where they are, but they sure know the rules.”

  Mangrum didn’t hold a grudge. A photographer had taken a picture of Mangrum and Grainger walking down a fairway at Merion during the Open, and Lloyd later sent it to Grainger with this inscription:

  To Ike

  May we never have

  bugs again—Love & kisses

  Lloyd Mangrum

  Back on the 17th tee, everyone, probably even including Hogan, could agree that this was no good way to determine the Open champion. On this hole, Ben would do his best to make sure the two-stroke penalty wasn’t the deciding factor. Or maybe Hogan was happy to have a three-stroke lead any way he could get it. Life ran a second U.S. Open spread a week after Peskin’s famous 18th-hole photo, and a shot of Hogan walking toward the 17th green in the playoff showed him with a big smile, a rarity during competition.

  Minutes later, Hogan would have even more reason to smile. Facing a 50-foot uphill putt from the front level of the 17th green, Hogan hit it perfectly and watched it go into the hole for a birdie, the longest putt he made all week. Another Life photo shows Hogan in an uncharacteristically demonstrative gesture, doffing his cap and bowing to the crowd. The fans responded with a loud and prolonged cheer.

  Just like later Arnold Palmer roars at the Masters, you didn’t have to be on the scene to know who the cheering was for and what it was all about. Those sitting by the 18th green or the clubhouse knew that Hogan had done something great and that he must have clinched the U.S. Open.

  With routine pars on the final two holes, Mangrum finished with a 73. Fazio parred 17, but ended with his fourth bogey on the last five holes as he overshot the green yet again on the 18th and limped in with a 75. After earning his way into the playoff with spectacular back nines of 32 and 33 on Saturday, Fazio gave away his chances on Sunday by stumbling home in four-over 38.

  Hogan hit his drive in the fairway—where else?—on 18. He was only a little bit beyond his drive of the previous day, but this time he hit a five-iron. Years later, he explained to Hogan Company vice president Doug McGrath that the breeze was behind him and he felt his adrenaline running. Pumped up instead of leg-weary, Hogan’s five-iron bounced over the green.

  Standing behind Hogan, a photographer named Alex Bremner reprised Peskin’s shot of the previous day. Never printed in a national magazine, the shot appears in Merion’s club history, right under Peskin’s famous photo. Bremner’s photo also shows Hogan frozen in his follow-through, this time wearing a sweater on a day that was not so warm. The crowd is smaller, and has not encroached on the field of play as it did on Saturday. Instead of forming a line on the fairway side of the bunker ahead of Hogan, the gallery has politely stayed to the outside of it.

  Hogan finished in style, chipping to seven
feet and holing the putt for a par and a one-under 69. An enthusiastic crowd rushed in like they wanted to raise Hogan onto their shoulders the way the gallery did with amateur Francis Ouimet when he won the Open in a major upset in 1913. The Haverford Township police were having none of that.

  “There was a mad crush and several persons were knocked down in the melee,” the New York Times reported. “A cordon of police saved Hogan from the happy jam of well-wishers.”

  On the clubhouse porch, Valerie Hogan celebrated in a more quiet fashion. Just as she had done the previous three days, she sat sipping iced tea for the entirety of Ben’s round. Valerie heard the cheer from the 18th green and heard somebody say, “Ben Hogan won.”

  She began to cry. The couple at the next table came over and asked, “Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “I’m all right,” she replied. “I’m just happy for my husband. I’m crying with joy.”

  Hogan’s storybook return from his auto accident and Mangrum’s unfortunate blunder attracted most of the attention in the aftermath of the playoff. What got lost in the shuffle was the exceptional round that Hogan played to earn the title. The day after 104 rounds had been posted on the East Course with only one of them under par, Hogan produced a 69 with the U.S. Open title on the line. He did it with an impressive display of controlled golf. The accident may have humanized him, but he played the playoff with almost robotic precision.

  His lone mistake, the tee shot into the bunker on the eighth, was the result of misreading the wind and hitting the wrong club. Over the next eight holes, with Mangrum and Fazio nipping at his heels, Hogan methodically hit every fairway and every green, grinding his foes down with eight straight pars. It was effective on the scorecard, and also mentally. As his opponents watched Hogan’s relentlessly efficient play, they sensed he wasn’t going to make any mistakes or give them any openings. Perhaps that led them into trying to force the issue on the back nine, where Mangrum was wildly up-and-down and Fazio fell apart after holding things together with baling wire on the first nine.

  That eight-hole stretch of regulation pars was broken by Hogan’s clinching birdie on the 17th. He ended up hitting 16 of 18 greens in regulation, including a meaningless miss on the finishing hole. Hogan’s putting held up, too. The blade putter that had served him poorly the previous afternoon was a worthy companion on Sunday. The playoff was his only round without a three-putt, he showed a good touch in getting his long putts close to the hole on Merion’s tricky greens, and missed only one short putt (the birdie try on the sixth), finishing the round with 33 putts.

  Hogan had told reporters in the hotel lobby before the playoff round, “The trouble with Merion is that it always has you on the defensive. There’s no way you can take the offensive against it.”

  He said it with a tone of frustration, because he preferred to be able to attack. But, like a smart quarterback, Hogan knew to take what the defense gave him. Taking few chances, Hogan played for the center of greens and walked away with the U.S. Open trophy.

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  THE STORY OF MY OPEN CHAMPIONSHIP VICTORY AGAINST MY FELLOW MEMBERS OF THE “GREAT TRIUMVIRATE”

  JOHN HENRY TAYLOR

  It was fair golfing weather, although a strong breeze on the first day bothered some of the competitors considerably. Prior to the start Mr. H. H. Hilton, Harry Vardon, James Braid, and myself were favourites for the premier honours, but on the first round I think Vardon was followed by the largest “gallery.” This did not disturb him in the slightest, and at one period it appeared probable that he would play a remarkably good round. This did not exactly happen, for his half round in was marred by a 6 at the eleventh green. He finished in 77, Braid’s figures being 79 and mine the same.

  In the second round Braid played a much better game, or, possibly, his strokes were not dogged by ill-fortune, and his 76 was the result of really sound, indeed wonderfully good golf, the score he returned being only four strokes above the record of the green which, considering the adverse circumstances, was a grand performance. Only one big hole, a 6, was played, and that was the second on the outward journey.

  Vardon, though, had not quite maintained his earlier form, his round being accomplished in 78, which, however, placed him upon an equality with the ultimate winner. It was on the home green that he lost his chance of securing the lead, for a moderately easy putt was missed. As for myself, I will be contented by simply stating that my round totalled up to 83.

  This being the condition of affairs as far as the leaders were concerned, excitement ran desperately high when the final day arrived. The weather was good, the crowd better, and superior to all was the play. Braid never lost his nerve, his driving was as strong as ever, and his short game remarkably good.

  That he still remained favourite for first place was proved by the crowd that followed him when he started on his third round. He made no mistake, neither did he display any signs of weakness, for his first shot from the tee well-nigh carried the ball to the edge of the first green. Handling his wooden putter capitally, he ran up with the greatest accuracy, and the first hole fell to him in a 3.

  His attack upon the second hole was not so successful, for slightly pulling his drive from the tee, he had a heavy lie from which to play. This made just a little difference, despite a capital stroke away to the right of the green, and as he failed to get down his putt, this hole required the playing of 5. Again going to the third hole, Braid overshot the mark and got into the rougher ground beyond the green. It was a somewhat difficult position to be in, but he extricated himself, pitched the ball dead, and got the hole in a 4.

  At the fourth hole it looked as though Braid possessed a great chance for a 3, but it was spoilt by his failure to hole out, the ball just missing its objective by a hair’s breadth. But he made no mistake with his next stroke, and another 4 was returned.

  The long hole came next, and here Braid’s mastery over the driver stood him in good stead at first, but his second shot planted him to the right of the bunker, not in the best of positions. It cost him an additional stroke, and he could do no better than 5, although the sixth hole was taken in 4. Indeed, he was well up in 2, but his third proved too strong, it being necessary to hole a long putt with his next.

  More bad luck was experienced at the seventh, for after Braid had driven a long ball from the tee, everything pointed to the probability of a 3 being the result It was not to be, however; the ball trembled, but lay on the edge of the hole, and yet another 4 remained to be written up. His fortune was the same at the eighth hole, for although his approach put him into a position to secure a long putt, again he failed to catch the edge of the hole by the merest shave, and so missed his 3.

  At the ninth hole his ball stopped within an inch of the hole, but despite these drawbacks, his first half-round was finished in 37. Going to the tenth hole, had he succeeded in a moderately difficult putt, he would have had a 3 in place of a 4, but his 4 for the eleventh was quite above the average merit. Had Braid been a less powerful driver, he could not have got so near the green with his second, while his third carried him almost to the edge of the hole, and the final putt was all that remained to finish what was a splendid performance.

  Braid’s approach to the twelfth hole was of a somewhat too vigorous nature, and he had to pay the penalty, despite the best of his skill, with a 5. He almost succeeded in recovering himself, but not quite, and his putt for the hole did not travel the full distance necessary. At the thirteenth he found himself in a farfrom-favourable lie after his drive from the tee, and although a good approach shot was seen on this occasion, it was a difficult putt that remained. Still, he succeeded in negotiating it successfully, while the same may be said concerning the short hole.

  The hope of the Scotsman was indeed playing at the very top of his game. Going to this last-named hole, he played wide of the green and also overran the hole with the next stroke. Again it was a good putt that saved him, a fact that supports my contention that in the majo
rity of instances a game is lost or won upon the greens. I have treated this in a far more exhaustive manner in another portion of the book, hence I have but mentioned it in a cursory manner here. It is not altogether in the driving that a player wins or loses; he requires a sure eye and a steady hand when he takes up his putter. Too much attention cannot be paid to this particular department of the game, for it was through his improvement in this phase of play that Braid succeeded in taking the Championship back across the Border.

  At the fifteenth hole he secured a 4, and narrowly escaped a similar return at the long sixteenth, the ball overhanging the edge of the hole. Then he obtained a couple of additional 4s and so finished the round in 74, his aggregate total for the three rounds being 229.

  Meanwhile Harry Vardon and myself were battling along. Vardon was not doing himself justice, his driving being continually at fault; but I did much better in this round than at my previous attempts, finishing in 74, my aggregate, however, being at this stage 236.

  But it was during the final round that the battle royal was witnessed. The crowd, whose sympathies were very naturally with the leader, were asking themselves one question—“Could he maintain his form, or would he lose his nerve?” As after events proved, in this three-ball contest Braid did maintain the greater portion of his form; and although both Vardon and I each returned a better round, the earlier advantage proved far too great for either of us to wipe off.

  To tell the story of the final round, it is only necessary for me to say that Braid did not commence too well, for after getting close to the first hole he succeeded in missing a putt that should have been well within his compass, and so took 4 to hole out instead of a 3. This did not tend to unsettle him in the slightest, for at the second hole he played a great iron approach shot, and was finally faced by a three-yard putt. There was a sigh of suppressed excitement as he prepared to play the stroke. Slowly the ball rolled up to the edge of the hole, wavered just for a moment, and then disappeared from view. It was one of Braid’s best putts, and it deserved the applause bestowed upon it.