A U.S. Open Memory
I had the good fortune of attending the 1966 U.S. Open at the Olympic Club and having an experience there that has stayed with me, all these years. The 1966 Open is certainly a well known and remembered one. The seemingly invincible Arnold Palmer surrendered a 7 shot lead on the back nine of the Lake Course to Billy Casper, forcing an 18 hole play off where Casper prevailed 69-73.
I had caddied that same year for Dudley Wysong Jr. at the Lucky International at Harding Park. Wysong was a young Texan, who was mentored by the great Byron Nelson, and a finalist at the 1961 U.S. Amateur at Pebble Beach. Unfortunately, Wysong’s opponent in the Amateur final was one Jack Nicklaus. Nicklaus won the title 8 and 6. Dudley was nice enough to leave me a pass to the ’66 U.S. Open which he qualified for. It was nice to see him again.
The 1955 U.S. Open was also played at the Lake Course at Olympic, and produced another historic finish when relative unknown Jack Fleck defeated his idol Ben Hogan in an 18 hole playoff, to capture the title.
At the ’66 Open I was walking down the pathway to the lower parking area at Olympic and coming the other way was a solitary figure. Not a big man, but an unmistakable figure. 5’7”, maybe 140 pounds, with that white, flat hat that everyone knew. Of course, it was Hogan. I had that moment of truth when I was trying to think what to do. Just walk by? Ask for an autograph? Ask a question? Well, I decided to just go up and introduce myself. I said something along the lines of “Good morning Mr. Hogan, my name is Mark Naismith, and I wanted to shake your hand.” Hogan was cordial and reciprocated with a firm handshake, a steely look straight at me, and something along the lines of “Nice meeting you young man. I hope you enjoy the tournament.” He then strode away in his characteristically intense and self absorbed manner.
The reason this memory was so poignant, then, and to this day, is the “aura” of Hogan. History has recorded his aloof nature and incredible focus and discipline. It was almost like he was not “human.” I don’t mean that in a bad way. He just was a person who truly seemed outside the rest of us, looking in. I think he may be seen and perceived that way to this very day. I wonder what a person of my age then would think about a similar interlude with Nicklaus, Palmer, or even Woods, now. Somehow I think Hogan and Bobby Jones have ascended to another level of golf immortality, but that certainly would be an interesting topic to debate.
