July 16, 2005

Nicklaus Farewell to UK/Europe

nicklaus.jpg Greatest golfer ever says his final goodbye as a player over at St. Andrews.

On Friday at the Old Course, one of his most cherished places in the world, with the stubborn Scottish sun at his back, the Golden Bear mustered the waning remnants of his immense talents to close the circle on the long, gray line of his career. He made a birdie.

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June 04, 2005

The Last Stop of a Golf Legend

jack_nicklaus.jpg Jack Nicklaus plays in his last PGA tournament. It's the Memorial (his tournament) and everybody hoped he would make the cut one last time. I still remember picking up my ball and walking along back in the distance when Nicklaus was getting in a practice round back in Houston at Champions (US Open 1969).

Nicklaus says goodbye to Memorial
by DOUG FERGUSON, Associated Press

DUBLIN, Ohio -- Jack Nicklaus pressed both hands to his lips for a farewell kiss to the crowd as he walked off the 18th green Friday afternoon at the Memorial. Two groups behind him, Tiger Woods fired at as many flags as he could and moved quickly into contention.

An emotional day at Muirfield Village ended with Jeff Sluman, whom Nicklaus picked as an assistant captain at the last Presidents Cup, atop the leaderboard thanks to a flop shot that dropped for birdie and a 1-under 71. That gave him a one-shot lead over Woods and four others heading into the weekend.

Woods was tied for the lead along the back nine until missing the 17th green and making his only bogey of the tournament, dropping him to a 68. He was joined by Jonathan Kaye, Harrison Frazar, Lucas Glover and Nick O'Hern, the Australian lefty who beat Woods in the second round at the Match Play Championship.

Still, the day belonged to Nicklaus.

He played what might be his final PGA Tour event on American soil, and wasn't too happy with how it ended. The cheers that echoed around the course he helped design were usually for par, sometimes for bogey, always just to see the 65-year-old Nicklaus approach the green.

The score made him sick to his stomach -- a 5-over 77 to miss the cut by six shots.

"It will probably close out my golf in the United States in regular tournament golf, more than likely," Nicklaus said. "I may come back here, but I certainly wouldn't plan on it."

Then again ...

"I just can't stand finishing with a 77," he said.

Sluman had few complaints with his 71, especially since it put him in the lead at 8-under 136. Sluman was among the few players near the lead who didn't drop any strokes over the final three holes, although it sure looked as if he would when he missed the green to the left at No. 17.

His flop shot was perfect and rattled into the cup for a birdie, and he avoided trouble on the 18th.

"I hit it pretty solid, just didn't get as much out of it because I didn't hit as close as I needed to," Sluman said. "I obviously am in a pretty good position."

O'Hern (70) and Frazar (68) each had a chance to tie for the lead until bogeys on the 18th hole, while Glover and Kaye each had 70 and played the final three holes in par.

Vijay Singh birdied the 18th hole, but all that ultimately meant was that he finished one shot ahead of Nicklaus. Singh missed a half-dozen putts inside 12 feet, took another double bogey on the 17th and followed his 77 with a 74 to miss the cut for the second time this year.

Woods walked into the scoring trailer and a PGA Tour official welcomed him by saying, "One down, 141 to go." He missed the cut two weeks ago at the Byron Nelson Championship, ending his record cut streak at 142.

"It's kind of nice playing on the weekend," Woods said with a laugh.

He is in the middle of a logjam on the leaderboard, thanks to a Muirfield Village course that tempts players to attack off the tee and into the green, then punishes them if they fail.

"There's a lot of guys under par, but nobody is blistering this place," Woods said.

Still, Woods has history on his side. Every time Nicklaus says goodbye, Woods seems to hold the trophy. It happened the last time Nicklaus played the PGA Championship, in 2000 at Valhalla, and again at Augusta National in April when Woods won the Masters.

"Hopefully, I'll keep that string going here," Woods said.

Sluman was among the early starters and failed to separate himself from the field, rarely getting his approach shots inside 20 feet. His lone birdie putt came at the par-5 fifth, a 40-footer after an indifferent wedge.

Peter Lonard caught him briefly with five straight birdies, but his promising round ended with a bogey on the 16th and a double bogey on the closing hole, giving him a 68 that left him at 5-under 139.

Woods also made a quick move.

He went after the pin at the back of the second green, a 9-iron to 6 feet, birdied the tricky par-3 fourth hole, then had to settle for a two-putt birdie on No. 5 after hitting a 2-iron from 249 yards that landed softly, 12 feet away.

But like so many others, Woods couldn't make much progress on the back nine.

"To be one back is a good spot," he said.

The frustration on Nicklaus' face was evident throughout the back nine. He gave the gallery fleeting hope with a birdie putt on the 14th, but it all came undone on No. 15. From the fairway, Nicklaus flared a fairway metal into the creek, took a drop, then skulled his next shot over the green and into the gallery.

He bogeyed the next two holes, then watched his birdie putt on the 18th come up just short.

There was plenty of nostalgia as he walked along Muirfield Village in competition for perhaps the last time, and defending champion Ernie Els detected a tear in Nicklaus' eye as they finished.

But good golf is all that ever mattered to Nicklaus.

"I try when I'm out there to play golf," he said. "That's what these people came in here to see. They came to see Jack Nicklaus play golf, as well as they came in to see 104 other guys play golf. And I wanted them to see me -- not what I did today."

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January 19, 2005

Tom Lehman and Ryder Cup

The infamous Brookline incident at the 17th green continues to haunt Lehman. A miniscule 42 second particle of partial indirect involvement. Freddie Couples sums it up best at the end.

Lehman still linked to 42 seconds at Brookline
by DOUG FERGUSON, Associated Press

SAN DIEGO (AP) -- Tom Lehman has a videotape of the Ryder Cup that he keeps as much for proof as posterity, and not just because 1999 was the only time in the last 12 years the Americans won.

Of particular interest is the 17th green at Brookline.

In what became the most indelible image in Ryder Cup history, Justin Leonard made a 45-foot birdie putt that ultimately clinched an unlikely U.S. victory and unleashed a celebration that crossed the line of etiquette. American players, caddies and wives raced onto the green, even though Jose Maria Olazabal still had a putt to tie.

It was ugly.

It was wrong.

And apparently, it's not over.

Not long after Lehman was introduced in November as the next Ryder Cup captain, just about every reaction coming out of Europe began with something that happened five years ago and lasted only 42 seconds.

Lehman knows how long because he watched the tape with a timer in his hand.

``There ought to be a movie,'' Lehman said. ``Call it, ``The 42 Seconds to Eternity.' From the time the ball went in the hole when Justin made that putt until the time the green was clear was 42 seconds. I wanted to see how long it took.''

Lehman agrees it was a mistake, but an honest mistake.

``But the statute of limitations has run out,'' he said. ``It's time to move on.''

Fat chance.

Lehman, more than any other player, for some reason has become the poster boy for bad behavior at Brookline.

He was 3-0 in Ryder Cup singles, beating Seve Ballesteros in a riveting match at Oak Hill in 1995, and never missing a green in regulation when he beat Lee Westwood in 1999.

No one mentioned that when he was named captain.

He is a former British Open champion and PGA Tour Player of the Year, and he played in the final group at the U.S. Open four straight years.

Hardly anyone mentions that these days.

If people want to criticize his selection as captain, they could look at his overrated record compared with other candidates -- only five PGA Tour victories and three Ryder Cup teams.

No one talks about that, either.

It's all about Brookline.

And even though players don't hold it against Lehman, they continue to associate him with Brookline.

Consider this opening comment from Padraig Harrington:

``I certainly think it was a good choice of captain for them. I think he'll do a good job. I've said this before about Brookline ...''

And from Paul McGinley:

``I played with him the year he won the Open, and I've always found him to be a perfect gentleman. Now I didn't play in Brookline ... ''

Colin Montgomerie was asked recently why Lehman gets singled out for all the bad blood from 1999. Quietly and quizzically, without a hint of criticism, he replied, ``Well, he was first on the (17th) green, wasn't he?''

Monty couldn't be sure, playing in the match behind. All he saw was a blur of ugly maroon shirts worn by the Americans that day, and worse yet, maroon sweaters and cream-colored skirts worn by the wives.

``I've seen it a billion times,'' Jim Furyk said. ``I haven't watched that closely to see where Tom was. But for a million dollars, I couldn't swear he was even on the 17th green.''

Why pick on Lehman?

``No idea,'' Tiger Woods said. ``It wasn't like he was the only one.''

During his study of the 42 seconds, Lehman found out exactly where he was.

First out of the pack was the late Bruce Edwards, who was in charge of the caddies that week. Then came another caddie, presumably Bob Riefke, who was working for Leonard. Then it was Woods, with a 40-inch, spread-eagle leap before sprinting toward Leonard. He was followed by Davis Love III.

And then Lehman.

``I know I was the fifth,'' Lehman said. ``And I know I never set foot on the green. Not that it matters.''

In some respects, Lehman was a victim of timing.

In the immediate aftermath, when European blood was boiling, Sam Torrance singled out Lehman on Sky TV when he called the incident disgusting and said of Lehman, ``And he calls himself a man of God.''

European captain Mark James, the ultimate goat at Brookline, took Lehman to task in his book for leading the gallery in a rendition of ``God Bless America.''

Lehman said he threw a roundhouse fist pump after making a big putt during one of his matches, and a European player he declined to identify shot him a nasty glare. He confronted the player a month later.

It couldn't have been the fist pump. Europeans don't exactly tip their caps when a big putt drops.

``He said, 'It was out of your character.' That was the answer,'' Lehman said, shaking his head. ``I guess they thought it was out of character for me to be so emotional.''

Lehman said he and Torrance have made their peace, and that Torrance sent him a nice note upon his selection as captain. And he believes, as Hal Sutton said during his tenure, that it's time to move on.

Whether that happens is doubtful.

Fred Couples might have summed it up best when asked why Europeans continue to bring up Brookline whenever Lehman's name is mentioned:

``Probably,'' Couples said, ``because he's the captain.''

Posted by keefner at 05:20 PM | Comments (0)

June 10, 2004

Once a Pro

CHICAGO -- The Lake Forest, Ill., resident catches the 7:24 a.m. train to downtown Chicago. Occasionally somebody will recognize him, but mostly he's just another briefcase-toting commuter headed to work.

Beck seeks escape from golf's no-man's land
by Ed Sherman, Chicago Tribune

CHICAGO -- The Lake Forest, Ill., resident catches the 7:24 a.m. train to downtown Chicago. Occasionally somebody will recognize him, but mostly he's just another briefcase-toting commuter headed to work.

Chip Beck didn't envision his life taking this turn when he was one of the top players on the PGA Tour in the late 1980s and into the '90s. One of the most stunning falls in golf history forced him to change his perspective.

"I'm not making money playing golf," Beck, 47, said bluntly.

These days, Beck's earnings come from the insurance business. For a little more than a year he has been working for National Life of Vermont in Chicago. On most days he exchanges his golf shirt for a business suit. Appointments with prospective customers have replaced tee times.

Beck hasn't given up on his golf career. In fact, he has retooled his swing under the guidance of instructor Jim Suttie and said he is hitting his drives straight for the first time in years. He has high hopes for a successful run on the Champions Tour, the 50-and-older circuit that has been a second act for dozens of players.

But, at 47, Beck is in golf's no-man's land, three years away from the veterans' tour. Beck still plays an occasional tournament on the Nationwide Tour, including the LaSalle Bank Open that begins Thursday at the Glen Club in Glenview.

Beck knows how difficult it is to compete with the Nationwide Tour's up-and-comers, who are striving to get where he has been. He sees young, powerful players hitting 5-irons while he's reaching for his 4-wood.

"You have to be a long hitter to compete," Beck said. "They've taken me out of play."

Beck's collapse put him out of play for nearly a decade. He won four times on the PGA Tour between 1988 and 1992. He shot the second 59 in PGA Tour history on Oct. 11, 1991, in the third round of the Las Vegas Invitational. He was second on the money list with $916,818 in 1988 and played on the victorious U.S. Ryder Cup team in 1993.

But almost overnight he went from a runner-up finish in the 1993 Masters to the epitome of a player who suddenly loses it. The slump was so profound it led to a nickname: "Poor Ol' Chip."

Beck appeared at occasional corporate outings and won $12,438 in 12 Nationwide events last year. Clearly, golf wasn't paying the bills. He sold a big house in Lake Forest several years ago and moved into a smaller one. Other trappings from his former seven-figure income also vanished.

With the Champions Tour still in the distance, Beck realized he had to do something to make a living. That's when his friend John Harris, a top amateur player in Minneapolis, suggested he look into the insurance business.

The idea made sense to Beck.

"You never know in golf," he said. "To think it's going to be a paved road to the Hall of Fame isn't realistic. That's why I never put all my eggs in one basket."

Beck also noticed that many standout amateur players were insurance men, including Jay Sigel, the former U.S. Amateur champ who's now a Champions Tour regular, and Joel Hirsch, a two-time British Senior Amateur champion. Beck made the call to Hirsch at National Life.

"I thought he would be great in the insurance business," Hirsch said. "Chip knows a lot of people."

It has been quite a transition. Beck has yet to achieve scratch-player status in his new profession.

"What's my handicap?" Beck said. "My handicap is that when you've played golf your whole life and then go into something new, there's so much to learn. It's so vast."

Beck, though, is getting positive reviews on his attempts to learn the business, according to John Vitt, the general agent for National Life.

"He has read what he has had to read," Vitt said. "He's into it 110 percent."

Nobody had to teach Beck the basic fundamental of selling insurance-building relationships. His makeup always has been his biggest strength.

Even during his darkest days as a player, Beck kept smiling. Off the course, he reacts to people as if they are celebrities, not the other way around.

"He has a dynamic personality," Vitt said. "You can't find a more enthusiastic, positive guy."

Meeting new people is Beck's favorite part of the job.

"I enjoy getting together with people in the community," he said. "You go to dinner with someone, learn about them. You're dealing with people's lives. You can help them."

Beck's name opens doors. But it doesn't close deals.

As in golf, failure is a fact of life in the insurance business. Hirsch believes Beck's ability to cope with rebuffed sales pitches will help him succeed long term.

"You have to deal with a lot of rejection," Hirsch said. "That's why golfers are typically good at this business. You handle rejection on the golf course and you learn how to bounce back."

Few well-established pros have handled more rejection in golf than Beck. His years-long search for answers eventually led him to Suttie, who has a teaching academy at Green Garden Country Club in Frankfort.

After two years of work, Suttie said Beck is back to where he was at his peak -- straight off the tee.

"When you go down as far as he did, it takes a while to get back up," Suttie said. "Now he has found a swing that can hold up. He has found a way to manage his misses. He's getting more confident every day."

"Doc's going to get me to the Champions Tour," Beck said.

Until then, Beck will work on his game as he works in the insurance business. Beck says the break has been therapeutic. Looking back, he wishes he had done it in 1995 when the slump first took hold.

"He's at peace with himself now," Suttie said. "He's a mentally tough guy. He experienced the downside and came through it. He's enjoying life at this point."

Beck hopes to experience some of his old success when he reaches the Champions Tour. Even then, he knows it will be fleeting. He told Vitt he may have only 10 good years left to play pro golf, but he has 20-25 years remaining in insurance. Last fall, he received his first commission check as an insurance man.

Ever positive, Beck only sees one side: the bright side.

"This has been great for me," Beck said. "It's nice to be able to explore some different areas in life. Ultimately, this is going to make me a better person."

---

(c) 2004, Chicago Tribune. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune News Service.


Beck seeks escape from golf's no-man's land

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April 29, 2004

Charlie Sifford

Decades later, Charlie Sifford gets his due.

by Steve Elling, The Orlando Sentinel, Fla.

ORLANDO, Fla. -- They seemed to have so much in common. Both became cultural pioneers, shared a love of all sports and enjoyed hanging out at golf courses or betting a few bucks at horse racetracks.

In 1947, a black man in leather spikes named Jackie Robinson integrated Major League Baseball and changed the American sports landscape forever. Charlie Sifford, also black, boldly told Robinson a year later of his desire to do likewise in his game of choice, where the ball and participants were equally as white.

Robinson, who had been called every epithet in the book, barred from certain hotels and endured death threats as a rookie with the Brooklyn Dodgers, was rightly concerned for his friend, who wanted to play on the all-white pro golf tour.

"He asked me if I was a quitter," Sifford recalled last week. "He said, `OK, if you're not a quitter, go ahead and take a crack at it. But you are going to run into a lot of obstacles.'"

Fifty-six years later, Sifford crested the final mountain.

Close to forgotten, Sifford last week was embraced as part of the 2004 class of inductees into the World Golf Hall of Fame in St. Augustine. The man who broke the PGA Tour's caucasian-only clause has at last been acknowledged for removing one of the last race-based prohibitions in the books.

It only took a lifetime.

Robinson played baseball as a young man, earning Rookie of the Year and MVP awards during his first three seasons. He was inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame in 1962, and though he died a decade later, he remains a revered sports icon. Sifford was 39 before the tour allowed blacks to compete as members. He turns 82 on June 2 and lives in virtual anonymity near Cleveland.

"If you live long enough, a lot of things change," Sifford said, making light of his upcoming birthday. "That's a long time, man."

`It really bugged me'

It took decades for the phone to ring. When he sat beside three others in the class of 2004 at the inductees' announcement in Georgia, Sifford finally was able to exhale and unclench his teeth. Overcome by emotion at times during the overdue day, Sifford's single biggest emotion wasn't joy or wistful reminiscence, but unadulterated relief.

"I can't explain it to you," he said. "It takes a lot of weight off you, man. You see all these great players who you spent most of your life with on the tour, and they are going into the Hall of Fame.

"And (black) baseball players are in the Hall of Fame, and football players. I did my thing alone and I wasn't in the Hall of Fame. And it really bugged me."

It should have bugged the golf establishment, too. Of the 100 members previously enshrined in St. Augustine, none were black. Sifford had every right to be salty: He had been blackballed in the most derogatory sense of the word.

"When you look back at it, and at what he accomplished and how he stayed in there, you have to put him in the Jackie Robinson category," Lee Trevino said. "Charlie is the one who fought for the Lee Elders, the Tiger Woods and the others who followed."

It was Woods, commenting in an Orlando Sentinel story last November on the absence of blacks in the hall, who helped start the groundswell that led to Sifford's induction. "One person who should get in, without a doubt, is Charlie," Woods said.

Orlando author Pete McDaniel, a writer for Golf Digest, nominated Sifford this spring and enlisted some heavyweight help to move the process along. Vincent Hughes, a state senator from Pennsylvania and a family friend of McDaniel, wrote a letter to hall officials on Sifford's behalf. Hughes enlisted several others to do likewise.

"He got some political brethren to flood the Hall of Fame with letters of support," McDaniel said.

Woods isn't the only player of color who is mindful of the abuse and neglect that dogged Sifford during most of his career. An hour before Sifford's enshrinement was announced, Heathrow resident Jim Thorpe pulled up a chair next to Sifford on the clubhouse balcony of the Champions Tour event in Savannah, Ga., and gave the old pro a hearty pat on the back. Thorpe, who like Sifford is a black man who grew up in North Carolina, readily acknowledged the trail that Charlie blazed for other players of color.

"We got it made out here," Thorpe said as the pair overlooked the busy golf course. "The money out here is crazy now, man."

As the pair spoke, Sifford was attempting to light a half-burned cigar -- his unofficial trademark -- with a cheap, disposable butane lighter.

Forget the fame; he also missed out on the money. In fact, as a young pro, Sifford used to moonlight as a driver for legendary jazz singer Billy Eckstine to help make ends meet. For years, he was a barnstorming star on the United Golf Association circuit, playing against other blacks who were denied access to what eventually became known as the PGA Tour. In the winter, he drove Eckstine to his gigs.

"Anything to make a dollar to keep from stealing something, robbing something or messing with those drugs," Sifford said of his chauffeur duties. "I've got a clean sheet."

The whites-only veil on the tour finally was rescinded in late 1961, largely because the California attorney general barred the tour from holding events in the state until the tour stopped its exclusionary practices.

"The players inside the ropes were never a problem," said McDaniel, who in 2000 wrote Uneven Lies: The Heroic Story of African-Americans in Golf. "The problem was outside the ropes and within the administration of various organizations, the PGA of America, the PGA Tour and the events themselves."

Let's not forget the fans. By the time he formally was issued a tour card, Sifford had endured several dehumanizing, degrading incidents. The worst came in 1952, when he and his all-black foursome found human excrement in the cup on the first hole at the 1952 Phoenix Open. At the 1961 Greater Greensboro Open, which marked a homecoming of sorts for the Charlotte native, he dealt with a death threat and racial slurs from the gallery. Then there were the tangible indignities, like fans booting his ball into the trees.

"I'm playing with him in Greensboro when he hit the ball over the green, and it was on the edge (of the fringe)," Trevino recalled. "The next thing you know, by the time we get up there, the ball is in the ditch."

Those stories have long been forgotten by all but the true graybeards. Gary Player said Sifford essentially was "persecuted" as a tour player.

"He really deserves it, my goodness, for what he went through," Player said of Sifford's induction. "Nobody knows about those kinds of things."

It helped that his tour brethren were generally in his corner. For instance, Sifford has been exchanging Christmas cards with Jack Nicklaus' family for 30 years.

"They treated me just like they treated me today -- all of them accepted me," Sifford said. "They knew what I was going through. They were all in my corner; they are still in my corner."

Sifford was inducted via the Lifetime Achievement category, begun in 2000 as a means of including players whose contributions should be measured by means other than total victories.

That's not to say the man couldn't play. Late starter or not, Sifford eventually won twice in his PGA Tour career and considers his first victory, at the 1967 Greater Hartford Open, his greatest achievement. He shot 64 in the final round, saving par from five feet on the 72nd hole to win by a stroke.

He was 45.

"You about swallowed that cigar when you made that last putt," Trevino teased.

"That's about right," Sifford said, laughing.

Righting wrongs is what his induction is all about. Sadly, when he is enshrined in November, his wife of 51 years won't be there to savor the moment. Rose Sifford, who stuck with Charlie through thin and thinner, died five years ago.

Sifford broke down and was unable to speak for several poignant moments when her name was mentioned.

"Sometimes, an 82-year-old man cries," he said.

Though he has plenty of reasons to carry a grudge, Sifford seemingly has let bygones be bygones when it comes to the sport that treated him so brusquely for decades. Veterans such as Jim Colbert, Hale Irwin and Ben Crenshaw lined up to shake his hand and offer hugs.

Sifford always knew he belonged. Now he feels welcome.

"I think it's the greatest game. I don't have to think, I know it's the greatest game in the world," Sifford said.

Robinson, the man to which he often is compared, has some unforgettable words etched on his graveside memorial: "A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives."

In that sense, perhaps the two were never more alike.

Posted by keefner at 07:39 PM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2004

Something good out of something bad

Love donates $700,000 Match Play check to church

PALM BEACH GARDENS, Fla. (AP) -- Davis Love III found a way to erase contentious memories from the Match Play Championship, donating his $700,000 from finishing second to his local church.

``It hits you that there are more important things than golf,'' Love said on Thursday.

Love lost to Tiger Woods in the final match at La Costa two weeks ago, a Sunday that turned sour when he was heckled by a fan during a pivotal stretch of the 36-hole match.

The fan kept saying ``No Love'' as he prepared to play, and Love finally confronted him on the fifth tee.

Love refused to resume the match until the culprit was identified and taken out of the gallery.

Love was heavily criticized in newspaper columns and talk radio the following week for the way he handled the heckling, and wound up trying to defend the etiquette in golf.

``It was a good week, and that took all the fun out of it,'' Love said. ``I went to David Duval's wedding, and the pastor said some things that made me think. Then our pastor said some things on Sunday ... and it just seemed like the right thing to do.''

Love gave the money to St. Simons Presbyterian Church on St. Simons Island, Georgia. The church is starting a five-year construction project to refurbish the sanctuary, classrooms and assembly hall.

He and his wife, Robin, had already made a pledge to the building fund when Love decided to add his $700,000 check from the Match Play Championship.

``It's a week I'll always remember, and we just wanted to make sure something good came out of it,'' Love said.

Posted by keefner at 04:55 PM | Comments (0)

March 06, 2004

Old golf stories never go away

Ken Venturi lays out his side of the infamous Masters ruling in his new book.

Venturi: Palmer broke rules in 1958 Masters win
by DOUG FERGUSON, Associated Press

In a book that will be released as Arnold Palmer prepares for his 50th and final Masters, Ken Venturi claims Palmer broke the rules when he won the first of his four Masters titles in 1958.

``Nobody, not even Palmer, is bigger than the game,'' Venturi says in ``Getting Up & Down: My 60 Years in Golf.''

``I firmly believe that he did wrong and that he knows that I know he did wrong.''

Venturi, the 1964 U.S. Open champion who spent 35 years as a golf analyst for CBS Sports, declined an interview request Friday. His agent said Triumph Books, the publisher, does not want him to talk about the book until it is released March 17.

An excerpt from the book is in the April edition of Golf magazine.

Palmer was playing golf Friday and not immediately available for comment.

The allegation is a drop Palmer took behind the par-3 12th green in the final round of the '58 Masters, a ruling that has been well-documented.

Palmer wanted relief from an imbedded ball, but the rules official, Arthur Lacey, declined his request.

Believing he was entitled to the free drop, Palmer announced he would be playing two balls. He made double bogey playing the imbedded ball, then returned to the location, took a drop and saved par.

Tournament officials told Palmer three holes later that he was entitled to relief and that the par would count on his scorecard.

Palmer went on to win the Masters by one shot over Doug Ford and Fred Hawkins.

Venturi, playing with Palmer in the final round, finished two shots behind.

Rule 3-3a allows golfers to play a second ball when a dispute arises, but they are to announce their intentions before ``taking further action.''

Venturi says Palmer decided to play a second ball only after he made double bogey.

In his book, Venturi writes:

``Only Palmer wasn't ready to give up on the 12th hole just yet.

``I didn't like your ruling,'' he said, glaring at Lacey. ``I'm going to play a provisional ball.'' (He was really playing what is called a ``second ball.'')

``You can't do that,'' I told him. ``You have to declare a second before you hit your first one. Suppose you had chipped in with the other ball? Would you still be playing a second?''

Venturi says he confronted Palmer again in the scoring tent.

``You're signing an incorrect card,'' I told him.

``No, I'm not,'' he said. ``The ruling was made.''

Venturi said that Augusta National co-founders Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts told him years later that Palmer should not have received the favorable ruling. That cannot be confirmed because both men have been dead for more than 25 years.

Venturi says he never made an issue out of the ruling with the media because ``if anything, going public would damage my fragile image even further.''

Two years earlier, Venturi blew a chance to win the Masters with an 80 in the final round.

Venturi wrote that he waited to tell his side of the story because of his ``responsibilities and loyalties to CBS.

``The network needed to maintain a good relationship with Augusta National,'' he wrote.

Venturi retired from CBS Sports two years ago.

Palmer has mentioned the ruling in two of his books -- ``A Golfer's Life'' and ``Playing by the Rules.''

In the latter, he writes about his dispute with Lacey and that he declared he would play two balls and appeal to the tournament committee.

``I later heard that Ken Venturi was particularly upset, feeling like he had been cheated by my second-ball situation at the 12th,'' Palmer wrote. ``But I felt then and I feel now that I did what any other player could and should do: I followed the rules in both letter and spirit, and, as a result, I won my first major championship.''

Posted by keefner at 02:41 PM | Comments (0)