Open Season

In the end, that day at Cherry Hills belonged to Arnie, charging from seven strokes back with a brilliant final round of 65 to win his first and only Open championship. Palmer probably didn't recognize yet what loomed ahead with Nicklaus, a rivalry for the ages. But he certainly knew what was leaving in Hogan. And he wasn't really sorry to see him go. Palmer describes Hogan as a great golfer but not a great guy. Hogan carried demons from a hardscrabble youth that saw his father, a failed blacksmith, commit suicide when Ben was just six years old. He was not amiable and quite often irascible. Palmer, the son of a country club groundskeeper, hardly grew up with a sense of entitlement, but he prided himself on both his game and his cordial demeanor.

Back in 1958, at the Masters, Palmer, then 28, had played a morning practice round in a foursome that included Hogan. When the group got back to the clubhouse, Palmer was surprised when Hogan sat down to lunch at a separate table. And even more surprised when he clearly heard Hogan disparaging his game and wondering aloud, "How'd he get in the Masters?" Palmer settled that issue in just a few days by winning the green jacket, but one suspects that two years later at Cherry Hills he found added satisfaction in denying Hogan his fairy tale ending.

Here's hoping for some weekend dramatics from Tiger and company at the Open. But before then, "Back Nine at Cherry Hills" is a delicious appetizer, a reminder of how rivalry spices up the game in a manner that even Tiger's unsurpassed talent can't quite match.

© 2008