By Leonard Shapiro
CSNWashington.com
As a kid growing up on Long Island in the 1960s, I first was introduced to golf as a 14-year-old caddy at the Woodcrest Country Club. It was $5 a bag, no tips, a free soda and hot dog for lunch, and, if you were lucky, you broke even in the daily blackjack game back in the caddy shack.
More than 30 years later, I started covering golf in 1991, a dream assignment that's produced all manner of grand memories and goose bump moments. Here's one man's top 10, originally published in my book, "Golf List Mania."
10. Living Statue. Covering my first Byron Nelson Classic at the Las Colinas Resort in the Dallas suburbs in the mid-1990s, one morning I stopped for a moment to admire the statue of Byron Nelson in the courtyard of the golf complex. As I was admiring the sculpture, a tall fellow in a porkpie hat walked into my line of sight, and when I looked up, there was Lord Byron himself, in the flesh, on his way to the pro shop. He said nothing. I said nothing. But talk about life imitating art.
9. Beem Me Up. It was the Sunday of the 1999 Kemper Open at the old TPC at Avenel in the Washington suburbs, and I was watching eventual up-from-nowhere winner Rich Beem play the eighth hole when CBS analyst David Feherty walked over and went into a classic riff. "Len, Len, I've just picked up air traffic control at Dulles Airport in my headset," he said. "They wanted to know my position and height. I told them I'm 5-foot-11 and standing in the middle of the eighth fairway at the TPC at Avenel." OK, maybe you had to be there. But I was, laughing out loud.
8. What Happens in Vegas. I went out to the 1996 Las Vegas Invitational to research a feature story on a widely heralded young golfer named Tiger Woods who had recently turned pro. Woods just happened to win for the first time on the PGA Tour that week, beating Davis Love III in a playoff, and I'm pretty sure I was the only national newspaper writer on hand to witness his historic triumph. My most vivid memory was the victory ceremony, when a gaggle of shapely Vegas showgirls wearing the bare minimum surrounded the seemingly bashful 21-year-old Woods as he held up his over-sized champion's check and smiled for the cameras. Knowing what we all know now, bet he had a great night, too.
7. A Last Salute. At the 2000 U.S. Open at Pebble Beach, less than eight months after his death in a bizarre plane crash, more than 40 of Payne Stewart's fellow players also gathered not far from the 18th green for an emotional 35-minute ceremony that began at 7 a.m. and ended with what was described as a "21-tee salute." With hundreds of somber spectators looking on, two waves of golfers, on the command "ready, aim, fire," struck golf balls off the 18th fairway over the stone wall and into the Stillwater Cove in a moving gesture to honor the man who had won his second U.S. Open championship only a year earlier in Pinehurst, N.C. The sound of silence as all those shots soared into the morning mist was interrupted only by the voice of a kayaker paddling down below: "We love you, Payne."
6. Wild Thing. The very first PGA Championship I covered was the very best PGA Championship I ever covered. It was 1991, at Crooked Stick in the Indianapolis suburbs, and an obscure 25-year-old rookie who had been the ninth alternate into the field went from total unknown to global superstar in the space of four days. John Daly gripped it and ripped it and won by three shots that week. His performance was stunning, but I still remember his then-girlfriend and future wife, Bettye Fulford, telling several of us in an interview behind the 18th hole on Sunday that her main man was a wonderful fellow in addition to being a fabulous golfer. Then came the kicker: If she could just get him to cut back on the Jack Daniel's.
5. Roars Unlike Any Other. Jack Nicklaus was 58 at the time, with no great expectations at the 1998 Masters. But there he was on the front nine Sunday, making birdie after birdie and evoking sonic boom roars every time his ball found the bottom of the cup. I'd never heard sounds like that, nor ever seen the sight of hundreds of spectators literally dashing from all corners of the golf course to join an ever-expanding monster gallery to witness Nicklaus' last great run in a major. He eventually cooled off on the back nine, but his final-round 68 left him tied for sixth place, making him the oldest golfer to finish in the top 10 of the tournament he won for the last time a dozen years before. Amazing.
4. Goodbye, Arnold. Arnold Palmer had just posted an 81 in the second round of the 1994 U.S. Open at Oakmont, his final appearance in America's national championship. Not long after he signed his card, he came to the media center for a news conference that was anything but. The great Dan Jenkins, writing in Golf Digest a few weeks later, described the scene far better than I ever could. "On Friday," he wrote, "Arnold Palmer conducted the most memorable non-press conference after playing in his final Open. He uttered 20 difficult words in about five minutes but was so overcome with emotion he was forced to excuse himself. There weren't many dry eyes in the audience, either, and suddenly, for one of the few times in their cynical lives, the press inhabitants spontaneously gave this most cooperative athlete they would ever know a standing ovation."
3. Toughest Tee Shot Ever. That would have been Annika Sorenstam's opening shot at the 2003 Colonial Invitational, when she became the first female since Babe Zaharias in 1945 to play in a PGA Tour event. I was in the middle of thousands of spectators gathered around the 10th tee (she started her first round on the back nine at Colonial) and lined six-deep down the fairway to watch her historic first round begin, and she did not disappoint. She launched a 4-wood smack down the middle and did a mock swoon of relief not long after she made perfect contact. Sorenstam played well but missed the cut that week and has said many times since that she will never forget the support she received from the massive galleries that day in Fort Worth. She's also said she had never been more nervous in her life than in the moments before she walloped that first pressure-packed drive. She was not alone.
2. Comedie Francaise. Jean Van de Velde came to the 487-yard 18th hole at Carnoustie with a three-shot lead in the 1999 British Open, needing only a double bogey to win. Instead, the Frenchman made a triple-bogey 7 that left him in a three-man playoff with Justin Leonard and eventual winner Paul Lawrie. The playoff began in rain, and several of us were on the course huddled under umbrellas watching the extra session. Davis Love III had also come out in a show of support for his friend and fellow American Leonard, and at one point, I asked him how he might have played the 18th hole with a three-shot cushion. Seven-iron, seven-iron, wedge and three putts was the short answer, and anything but the driver off the tee Vande de Velde had chosen on his way to the greatest disaster in major championship history. C'est la vie.
1. Masters for the Ages. On Sunday of the final round of the 1997 Masters, I was standing next to Lee Elder, the first African-American golfer to play in The Masters, about 30 yards from the first tee. We were waiting for Tiger Woods to finish up on the practice putting green and make his way through a funnel of fans to begin his historic final round as the first man of color to win the tournament, with a record score and margin of victory to boot. As Woods was being introduced, I could see the tears welling in Elder's eyes as he took it all in. Then I turned around and gazed back to the nearby clubhouse. The second floor balcony overlooking the course was lined not so much with Augusta National members, but mostly with the men and women who served their meals, mixed their drinks, washed their dishes, shined their shoes and cleaned their rooms, virtually all of them African-American, as well. I also felt a shiver down my spine standing there on that memorable afternoon, and still get goose bumps typing these very words.