Just Call Me Jack

Focus not on the commotion around you, but on the opportunity ahead of you.
~Arnold Palmer

I played on the PGA Tour for two years. If I proved one thing, it was that I was a pretty good player on Monday and pretty bad one come Thursday and Friday. In 1978, I entered thirty Monday qualifiers, made it through twenty times, but only made two tournament cuts. 1979 was pretty much a repeat performance. I entered thirty-one events, qualified for nineteen, and made the cut in only four. Let's just say I was more accustomed to traveling on Saturday and Sunday than I was to playing.

One of the rare events where I made the cut was the 1979 Doral Open. On Thursday and Friday I was paired with Mark McCumber (the eventual winner of the event) and in these first two rounds I somehow got caught up in McCumber's draft and played pretty well. After Saturday's round I checked the leaderboard, just to make sure my name was actually on it after three rounds. Not only was my name on it, there was a chance I was going to play with Jack Nicklaus on Sunday as we were at the same score.

So after dinner I called to get my tee time and casually asked who I was paired with for the 10:10 starting time. I was told Bob Murphy and Jack Nicklaus. So, I did what any twenty-three-year-old green pro would do. I immediately laid out my clothes for the next day and started ironing my underwear while breathlessly repeating, "It's no big deal, it's no big deal, it's no big deal…."

The next morning I arrived at Doral my usual hour and a half early to warm up. I didn't notice a sizeable difference in crowds around the putting green or near the practice area. I was relieved. It really was going to be no big deal.

With about thirty minutes remaining before my tee time, I left my gallery on the range, estimated by my caddie to be three, which was including the range picker-upper guy. As I walked over to the putting green I noticed perhaps a hundred people gathering at the far end of the practice tee. Mr. Nicklaus was over there. A hundred people I could deal with. As my caddie and I arrived at the putting green we noticed a few more people milling over, but still, "no big deal."

The practice green was only about thirty feet from the 1st tee. We finished our warm-up with three straight ten-footers made, decided on the Titleist 4's since we all know the 3's are unlucky (and it was the fourth round after all) and turned to go to the 1st tee.

"Uh oh," I said to my caddie. "Where'd the 1st tee go?" The tee had been right there in plain sight a few minutes ago. In the span of time necessary to roll a few putts the gallery had exploded.

I swear there must have been more than a thousand people around that 1st tee. It took my caddie and me five minutes to negotiate the thirty feet from the practice green to the tee. By the time we wiggled through the starter was already announcing "and now for the 10:10 starting time, first on the tee is Bob Murphy playing out of Delray Beach, winner of four PGA Tour events… top sixty money winner each of the last eleven seasons… U.S. Amateur Champion." Yada yada yada.
Bob gets up and with his usual chicken winged high-handed backswing, just smoothes a little cut right down the centerline. The crowd applauds and I'm thinking, that's pretty loud for a 260-yard drive.

"Next on the tee in the 10:10 group and playing out of North Palm Beach is the winner of sixty-eight PGA Tour Events… Top Money Winner eight times… Scoring Leader eight times… Member of five Ryder Cup teams… Winner of five Masters, three U.S. Opens, three British Opens, and four PGA Championships… PGA Player of the Year five times… ABC's Wide World of Sports Athlete of the Year… Winner of two Trans Mississippi Amateurs… Winner of two US Amateurs… Walker Cup Member twice… 1961 NCAA Champion… Ohio Open Champion at age sixteen… won five straight Ohio State Junior titles beginning at age twelve… overcame polio as a child… and has been named by most every golfing authority in the world to be the Golfer of the Century… and on and on and on… Jack Nicklaus!"

The crowd goes crazy. Mr. Nicklaus waggles over the ball, and hits a perfect shot down the middle of the fairway. This makes the crowd go even crazier and I'm thinking I better get used to this noise ASAP.

"Next on the tee in the 10:10 group and playing out of Missouri City, Texas… Bobby Baker… good luck" That was all the starter said.

I was standing there listening to the starter, and it took me a moment to realize he said I could play, too. I walked to the teeing area, teed the ball up somewhere between the markers and noticed for the first time that my hand was shaking and was absolutely amazed when the ball actually stayed on the tee.

I hit that drive with so much adrenaline that it went 50 yards past Mr. Nicklaus. I had a 6-iron left to the first hole at Doral, normally a fairly long par 5. We walked off the tee and the gallery started walking along with us, then running, and it sounded like a herd of cattle. The only thing missing was actual mooing.

So now I am walking next to the Greatest Ever To Play Golf and realize we haven't met yet as I had had trouble getting to the tee in time due to the crowds. I looked at him and said, "I've grown up watching you play and I don't know whether to call you Jack or Mr. Nicklaus or Mr. Bear or what?"

He chuckled, put his hand on my shoulder and replied "I'm not that much older than you so just call me Jack."

Maybe I was a little nervous, and still don't know why I said what I did, but I put my hand on Jack's shoulder and said, "You're probably not used to the noise so let me know if my gallery bothers you today."