Arnold Palmer, 1929–2016

There are many things that I remember about growing up in the 1960’s, three of which I continue to have a fascination with — John F. Kennedy, the Beatles, and Arnold Palmer.

Sadly, by the time I was old enough to fully appreciate them, the President was dead, the Beatles had broken up, and Arnie was past his prime. Although I have many books about Kennedy and the Beatles, my library is somewhat limited on Arnold Palmer. How fortunate then that the Golf Channel produced a wonderful three hour documentary on his life, called simply Arnie.

My first clear recollection of Palmer was his loss in the US Open in 1966. I was 10 at the time, and only vaguely remember watching the last round on TV. The thing that sticks with me was how many times my father said “he’s going to lose this if he’s not careful” in reference to Palmer. I was just getting into golf at the time. I remember that my mom took me to play miniature golf the next day, and while we were there we heard on the radio that Palmer had lost the playoff to Billy Casper. Sometime within the next week or two my brother, who is ten years older, created a 9 hole golf course in our back yard that we could play with whiffle balls. We had a lot of fun playing against each other, but what I really remember is completely falling apart during one of our matches and getting very angry, and possibly even crying. I ran inside to the bathroom and locked the door. The next thing I remember is my brother talking to me in a stern tone, letting me know that what I did was completely unacceptable behavior. To drive home his point, he said “Just look at what happened to Arnold Palmer — he blew a 7 shot lead with nine holes to go in the US Open on national TV, and pretty much did the same thing in the playoff the next day. However, he behaved like a gentleman throughout the whole ordeal despite how devastating it must have been to lose like that”. That bit of brotherly advice has stuck with me for almost 50 years, and was the reason I became a huge Palmer fan.

I remember much more clearly the next year’s US Open, when despite a solid final round at Baltusrol, Palmer was left in the dust by Jack Nicklaus’ record setting performance. We did our best to root Arnie home but it wasn’t enough, and that loss in many ways ended his run at the top of major championship golf.

In 1969, I began playing golf more seriously. My father was a serious golfer, and so we belonged to a country club. I was lucky enough to spend the next five summers playing as much golf as I liked. I can remember some days being dropped off shortly after sunrise and getting picked up after sundown. In the summer of 1970, I was offered the opportunity to attend the Arnold Palmer Golf Academy in northern California. In retrospect, this is a perfect example of Arnold Palmer’s visionary thinking. Think of all the golf academies today with students from all around the world — Leadbetter, Faldo, and many more. I had a wonderful three weeks at camp — all the golf instruction, practice and play you could ever dream of. It was all capped off with a visit from Arnie himself. He had just finished the 1970 US Open at Hazeltine, where he finished well down the pack, and no doubt was very disappointed in his performance. When he walked into the meeting room, he received a huge standing ovation. He was obviously touched, and had the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. I remember nothing about the talk he gave, but I do remember that he conducted a clinic and everyone was amazed at how well he could hit the ball. He also took the time to walk the practice area and spend a few minutes with every kid, watching everyone hit a shot or two and sharing a quick tip. I have a beautiful photo of him placing my hands on the grip, and he is looking right at me like we were the only two people in the world. I obviously looked scared to death.

The camp was such a good experience that I had the opportunity to return in the summer of 1971. It was pretty much a replay of the prior year. I was 15, and starting to play a lot better. Arnie was having a much better year in 1971, and was in great spirits when he visited. Again, my best memory is captured in a photo with him watching me hit a fairway wood. He is leaning on a club and his other hand is on his hip — a classic Arnie pose — and is watching my shot intently. Later that night there was a banquet and Arnie was able to stay. The high point for me was being part of a small group listening to him talk about the last hole at the 1968 PGA, where he hit a 3 wood out of the rough to about 8 feet, with a putt to tie Julius Boros. Someone said it had to be one of his greatest shots, which he agreed with. But he was quick to add that he missed the putt. He said it in kind of a self deprecating way, and it masked the disappointment he had to have at missing his best chance to win the PGA.

There was an interesting post-script to the banquet that marked the end of camp. The next day I waited around our hotel waiting for my brother to come and pick me up. Arnie had stayed around to do a photo shoot for an advertisement that day. I was able to watch most of the proceedings, in which he was apparently modeling clothes — navy blazer, gray slacks, white shirt and tie — he literally looked like a million bucks. There was an attractive young woman posing with him. I was fortunate enough to get a picture of him with my Instamatic. It was interesting to note how serious he was during the shoot — I realize now it was just another good example of what a complete professional he was.

A couple of weeks later, my father took me to the first round of the Westchester Golf Classic. We arrived early, and caught up with Arnie on the 11th hole (he had begun his round on the 10th hole). We watched him shoot what had to be the easiest 64 he ever shot. He was wearing the exact same outfit he had worn when he visited us the last day of camp — dark green slacks, and a pale yellow shirt patterned with little green umbrellas. I could be wrong, but I believe this was the last really low round he shot on the PGA tour. Fortunately, he went on to win the tournament fairly easily.

I think I saw Arnie two more times at the Westchester Golf Classic. I also saw the first nine holes of his final round at the US Open at Winged Foot in 1974. He was in the second to last pairing, two shots out starting the day. He 3 putted the 2nd hole and bogeyed the short 6th hole shooting at a tucked pin, but he was hanging on. Even when he bogeyed 8 and 9, he came back with a birdie at 10. His chase for the elusive 2nd US Open ended with a bogey at 13.

In the early 1980’s my sister attended Rollins College near Orlando. Twice during her time there my parents visited, staying at the Bay Hill Lodge. I joined them one year, and was able to watch Arnie on the practice tee for a while one afternoon. He had many clubs with him, always experimenting. The high point was watching him hit one irons — frozen ropes with the tiniest bit of draw at the end.

By 1984, I was living in Rochester NY. The US Senior Open was scheduled to be played at Oak Hill. I followed the tournament in the paper, and Arnie was in contention. I had a tee time early Sunday morning, and on a whim I went out to Oak Hill in the afternoon to catch the leaders. I caught up with Arnie as he was finishing up on the 6th hole. I found a place to the left of the 7th fairway and waited. His tee shot narrowly missed hitting me in the head. I had a perfect view from ten feet away of his shot to the green. The 7th hole at Oak Hill is recognized as one of the best par 4’s in the country. He faced a long iron shot to an elevated green from USGA rough. He thrashed at the ball, and it took off on a low trajectory for the middle of the green. You could tell it had little spin on it, and it rolled over the back of the green. You could also tell Arnie was frustrated with the result of what he thought was a great shot. Arnie was playing with Miller Barber, who was leading, and he hung close through the 14th hole. I was standing on the back of the 15th tee waiting for what seemed like an unusually long time before Arnie arrived. He did not look happy. Apparently he had chastised his caddie for some indiscretion, possibly involving someone in the gallery, near the 14th green. When it came time for Arnie to play, he was undecided as to what club to hit. He and his caddie discussed the shot at length. The hole was in the back of the green, protected by bunkers to the left and water to the right. It was clear Arnie wanted to make sure he had enough club to reach all the way back to the hole to give himself a chance at a birdie. His shot landed on the green slightly left of the hole, but just trickled over the back. He was not happy. I did not walk to the green as the crowds had grown in size. I watched from the tee as Arnie chipped close. However, he missed the short putt, and in frustration stabbed at the tap-in. After he picked the ball out of the hole, he approached Barber and they spoke for a few moments. Then Barber stepped up and missed his short putt. The gallery was abuzz, but it took several minutes for the news to filter back. Palmer had stubbed his putter into the ground on the tap in, which required him to raise the club and complete the tap. He called the penalty on himself, giving him a 5 instead of a 4. I think this put him two down to Barber, and though he was able to recover a shot on the last 3 holes he fell just short of a 2nd US Senior Open title.

The last time I saw Arnie in person was at the 1988 Masters. My father had a friend who had been a long time ticket holder, and he was kind enough to share his first round passes. I spent a large part of the day following Ben Crenshaw, a favorite of mine, so I could see the entire course. After he concluded his round I met up with my dad and we watched a number of groups play through 11 and 12, and 14. We then took up a spot on the hill to the left of 17 green, and watched a number of groups come through. Without question the high point was seeing Palmer. The cheers he received were noticeably different from those for the other players — somehow deeper, richer, warmer. I wish I could remember exactly what he did, but I like to think he went just over the back of the green shooting at a back hole location, and saving par. It was very special getting to see him at Augusta, the site of his greatest triumphs.

So now back to the present. The wonderful thing about the Golf Channel documentary for me is that it puts Arnie’s playing career in perspective, especially how dominant he was in 1960–62. I loved the observation that following the 1962 US Open playoff loss to Nicklaus, Palmer continued to play at the apex of the game. Nicklaus himself observed that Palmer played the best golf he ever saw him play in the 1964 Masters. Somehow though he was rarely able to beat Nicklaus, and never won another major championship. I think it’s fitting that Arnie’s last win on tour came after a duel with Nicklaus.

I find it bittersweet to reflect on how long Arnie has been a force in golf. At 84 he has outlived my father, who died in 2001 at 83, by a year. He has slowed down perceptibly, and his swing is so much shorter now. But watching him today reminds me a lot of my father. I am so happy that the Golf Channel was able to do this documentary at this stage in Arnie’s life. Most people today have an appreciation for his contributions to the game, but not so much about his playing career and how good he really was. For years and years Arnie’s peers and their successors all recognized the impact Arnie made on the game and how it benefitted them. I hope every junior golfer with dreams of a career in professional golf has the opportunity to see this documentary, and strives to achieve the level of sportsmanship and professionalism that Arnie established.