|
|
Sir Walter & Mr. Jones
Walter Hagen, Bobby Jones and the Rise of American Golf
By Stephen Lowe
Sleeping Bear Press, 2000
| |
|
The King and the Emperor
What legacies these two seminal figures left us, and what wonderfully contrasting personalities.
Bob Jones bequeathed the Masters, a perfectionism that nearly consumed him. Handsome, well educated, from a socially prominent family, he had a chivalrous, wholly Southern, near Victorian modesty. One commentator likened it to "sportsmanship of medieval knighthood." Like King Arthur's legendary knights, Jones's exploits are timeless, stories to be heralded as long as the game is played.
The consummate amateur followed the straight and narrow both on the course and off. Golf, he liked to say, was never his "business." It was not his life, "no more than a means of obtaining diversion, recreation, and exercise." First came family. A private, even shy, man, he once told O.B. Keeler, "there is only one way to play this game." And with typical modesty, he told Keeler not to write about the anecdote of his calling a penalty on himself.
Hagen came from a very different world and came to view it as nothing less than opportunities waiting to be seized. The circumstances of his upbringing were decidedly modest, to put it mildly. In the caddie yard he honed the inconsistency that would become the hallmark of his game. He also learned the implacable rule that three of these and one of those makes four, which he parlayed to maddening and spectacular effect.
For this opportunist capitalist who rankled with his tardiness and gamesmanship, golf was unabashedly his business. His era's "bad boy," at least by a patrician and very British, view of the world, rarely followed the straight and narrow. His golf reflected his personality. His swing, in yet another stark contrast to the artistic genius of Jones, was somewhat "agricultural." He could be all over the yard. He anticipated bad shots, particularly with the driver. Where Jones could play "without spot or blemish," as he did during that "perfect" 66 at Sunningdale, Hagen, as Bernard Darwin once observed, "is incapable of a Jones-like steadiness."
Jones disliked the attention, speeches. A microphone unnerved him. Hagen craved the limelight, understood it and reveled in it. He had a modern flair for drama, tension and timing. At his best he carried, in a wonderful phrase, a "diamond and scepter" mien about him, even if this regal outlook disguised a troubled home life, including a ghastly fatal traffic accident, and the aimlessness of the vagabond.
Jones was the ideal by traditional standards of his day, and no one was more beloved for those very traits that underscore the British character: reserve, self-deprecating modesty, sincerity. "In spite of his greatness," it was said in St. Andrews, "his cap still fits his head." But it is Hagen's minions who have inherited the sporting earth. Quintessentially American, brash and flash, the Haig understood entertainment value. He was way ahead of his time in many respects. His ability to fall behind only to save himself with a characteristic flourish is but one of them.
Those who truly endure in the public consciousness can captivate us even in defeat. They make headlines with glorious failures. They demand our attention, even command our passion, regardless of how they're doing. Few ever have it. Ali had it. Namath, Elway, Pele, perhaps Tiger, should he ever suffer through his own "seven lean years." There's only a handful. Even if his troubles in battle were largely of his own making, the Haig had the knack of pulling off the miraculous.
While Jones returned to the law, Hagen traveled the world spreading the game, playing innumerable exhibitions and, if he is to be believed, enjoying himself to Ruthian excess. There are his course antics - having the flag pulled from the fairway, as he did at the 1926 Open at Royal Lytham, and the notable gamesmanship that made him so dangerous at match play - but he was more than good PR, more than clothes, cars and parties.
He deserves all he gets for his élan and determination in cracking British snobbery and class barriers. Professional golf got its chance because of Hagen. Jones was quite marvelous, a remarkable champion, the pinnacle of sportsmanship now and forever, but he would never, could never have taken an outspoken lead in the way Hagen did.
Without their contributions, modern golf would be unthinkable. It should also be said, as it can be said of all great champions, that both were gracious in defeat. Hagen perhaps more spectacularly but both men are well deserving of this studiously researched and readable treatment.
One quibble: For some reason the author insists on repeated references to golf "dopesters," presumably the media or other interested parties. The lapse may be due to prolonged exposure to reading Grantland Rice columns on microfiche. Nevertheless, history professor Lowe has given us a memorable biography of two memorable 20th century sporting lives.
Rating: Whip-Cracker * * * *
Duly Noted - Edition I - Shouting at Amen Corner
Duly Noted - Edition II - Precision Putting
Duly Noted - Edition III - In the Women's Clubhouse
Duly Noted - Edition IV - Royal and Ancient
Duly Noted - Edition V - Into the Bear Pit
Duly Noted - Edition VI - The Biography of Walter J. Travis
Duly Noted - Edition VII - Uneven Lies
|
