Thanks for the memories, Arnie
It’s April of 1992 at Augusta National, and moments to remember dance through the azaleas and dogwoods like always. Byron Nelson, Gene Sarazen and Sam Snead handle the honorary duties to start the 56th Masters. Fred Couples wins, thanks to his ball somehow stopping on the shaved bank of Rae’s Creek, and Ray Floyd defies the calendar and contends until the end.
Forgotten amid those headlines is Arnold Palmer’s last stand at the tournament he loved, at the place he treasured.
The eulogies that filled the airways and internet on Monday, the day after Palmer passed away at age 87, focused on his triumphs. And they should.
After all, he, more than anyone, pulled golf out of the country clubs and onto the front pages. His swashbuckling style and charisma connected with the masses like no one in golf before or since.
But that had been years before, in the 1950s and 1960s, and the early 1990s belonged to another generation. And the future, Tiger Woods, still dominated the amateurs.
Then, if only for a moment, if only for a few holes, the Arnold Palmer of yesterday sparkled for one more time on a beautiful spring Friday afternoon in 1992. Hardly anyone remembers, and that’s too bad.
Palmer, at 62, peeled the pages off the calendar that day and hit the shots that created the legend more than 30 years earlier. He had long ago become more of a curio than a challenger at Augusta, but his clubs became magic wands one more time, and fans who had only heard of the magic that made the King received an up-close and personal look.
I wrote these words then:
“He birdied Nos. 10, 11 and 13 and barely missed another at the treacherous 12th.
“If you listened hard, you could hear the bugle sounding “charge” through the pines that line Amen Corner.
“He saved par with a character-building second putt on 14, and his eagle at 15 sent thunder rolling across the back nine.
“This is the dashing Palmer of yesteryear, the man who refused to play it safe, the man who won spectacularly, the man who lost spectacularly.
“He sent his tee shot spinning to a stop 10 feet from the pin on 16. He walked to the green to a standing ovation reserved for those who are special.
“The man who brought golf to the people could do no wrong. He showed another generation the electricity he generated in producing four Masters championships. He played with the flair that enthralls all these years later.
“If only for a few moments, he played like the Arnold Palmer we knew, the Arnold Palmer we remember.”
Fitting finish
Tournament officials in 1992 sent Palmer off with Gary Player in a hall-of-fame pairing that sounds nice, but more likely was designed to get the “ceremonial golfers” out of the way for the likes of Couples, Faldo, Woosnam and Norman to take center stage.
That’s OK, too. One of the beauties of the Masters is tradition, and the tradition of former champions remaining in the field creates an opportunity to appreciate those who are past their prime but helped make the game and the tournament great.
What better way, then, to spend a spring afternoon watching Palmer and Player, who along with Jack Nicklaus formed the “Big Three,” and taking a trip down memory lane?
Early images came from sketchy news-reel film, radio broadcasts and newspapers, leaving plenty to the imagination. Without today’s technology, Palmer’s exploits created visions of golf’s answer to the Colossus of Rhodes.
His career will be chronicled elsewhere, and examples of Palmer’s magnetism extend far beyond Augusta and Arnie’s Army.
An early newspaper assignment meant covering a mid-1960s exhibition by the Big Three in Charlotte. Lack of security that characterizes today’s events created challenges for both the players and the media, but Palmer, Player and Nicklaus finally arrived in the calm of the clubhouse.
“This is amazing,” Palmer said, looking out at the throng of fans and the scene his golf and charisma had helped create.
And Columbia business executive John Durst once recalled the day that Palmer came to Greenville to play an exhibition at the Furman University course. Then a Furman senior, Durst remembers, “Furman was the center of the golf universe. It was awesome.”
Durst still has the program with Palmer’s “million-dollar swing” on the cover and says, “Palmer had won four Masters and seven majors and was someone everybody wanted to see. There was a lot of excitement on campus and he was extremely gracious, as expected. It was really special.”
Indeed, Palmer always has been special, and that brings us back to that spring Friday afternoon in April of 1992.
He said afterward that day that he had challenged himself on the 10th tee, and magic flowed. Five under par through the first six holes on the back nine and facing a 10-footer for another birdie … what could be finer?
Hey, he could make the cut … at 62 years of age.
Alas, he said the Palmer of today finished the round. He three-putted for bogey on 16 and struggled home.
Afterward, he stopped under the old oak tree, talked about old times and that day. He said he had the same shots that day in 1992 that he faced the year he finished birdie-birdie to win.
“I couldn’t have asked for easier shots,” he said of 1992. And 30 years earlier? With the familiar smile covering his face, he said, “I’d have hit ‘em straight at the flag.”
Of course he would have.
Thanks for the memories, Arnie.