| Reflections on Tom Watson |
Published: THURSDAY, 23 JULY 2009 | |
The first time I met him, I was a sophomore on the Cal golf team. I was playing in a match against Stanford at Mira Vista Country Club, walking onto the first green, when something hit the heel of my shoe. It was a golf ball, a drive off the first tee, nearly reaching the green on this par 4. "What was that?" I asked. "Oh, that's our new freshman from Kansas City," said my opponent. That was Tom Watson. He hit the ball a long, long ways. I played with him and against him quite a few times in the next few years. Watson was a bit hyper back then — his waggle before he began his backswing was a very quick up-and-down motion of the club, so quick it resembled a piston engine. Later he would change that waggle to a looser back-and-forth motion. That was the only significant change I have ever seen Watson make in his swing. But Tom Watson played a different game on the course than I had ever seen. He was very aggressive, but his face never changed expression, no matter where the ball went. His philosophy of the game was very simple — hit it, find it, hit it again. Count it up at the end of the day, and let's see what we've got. Watching him play, I knew something was missing in my game. I played hard, but I took it personally when something went wrong. Not Tom. Tom had Acceptance. I lacked it. He played the game the way it was meant to be played. He acted as if his swing was a machine, and he would simply stand back to see what it could do. If it didn't work to his satisfaction, he would simply go to the range to work on it. Nobody hit as many balls as Tom Watson, and he hit them like a machine — quickly, in rapid fire, like a machine gun. Off the course, he was steady and clear-headed. Good Midwestern stock. Honest and hard-working. A good listener. At the Trans-Miss Championship, at Spyglass Hill in 1971, just Tom and I remained on the range as dusk fell. Finally, exhausted, I sat down on a bench. And he sat down next to me. You never knew what Tom shot, because his face gave no hint. It was always the same. Ascetic. That day he shot 86, I shot 81. But there was no commiseration in our discussion; there never was with Tom. Rather, we talked about what a wonderful golf course this was. He would occasionally talk about the golf swing. He believed he had found Hogan's secret. He would set the angle on top of the swing, then slam the butt end of the club into the ball. This created an extremely delayed hit, a key to power. The common thinking at the time was that Hogan hit the ball with the back of his left hand, not the butt end of the club. Recently, Tiger Woods has gone to this kind of release. I introduced Tiger to Watson at the 1998 US Open, at Olympic. Ironically, they were paired together later in the tournament. Before, they had never met. Watson made it through Q-School his first try. His first event on the PGA Tour was at Silverado CC in Napa, the old Kaiser Open. And he shot 66-65 the first two rounds. I believe that turned his life around. In 1982 I was privileged to be in the Tap Room at Pebble Beach after Watson sank that impossible chip on the 17th hole to win the US Open. Well into the night we got some flashlights, walked out to that green, and tried the shot. Not even Watson came close. Five British Open titles later, there was Tom Watson, this past week, shooting 65 at Turnberry to grab the lead, six weeks from his 60th birthday. Nobody in their 50s had ever won a major. "There is a spirituality out there," Watson said. There is a spirit to this game that Watson could always tap into. That was what I sensed back in the sixties, when I realized he had something that I lacked. I fought it; he always went with it — whatever "it" was. I was not surprised to see him with a one-stroke lead, standing in the final fairway. I was very surprised he picked the wrong club for his approach shot. He flew the green, and lost in a playoff. What a story that would have been. What a story it was. But Tom Watson remained true to the spirit of the game to the end. "Hey, this ain't no funeral, you know," he told the press. He also told Stewart Cink quietly at the awards ceremony, "This win will change your life. Congratulations. It would not have changed my life if I had won." And he smiled. We could all learn a thing or two about life from Tom Watson. National award-winning golf writer Ron Salsig can be reached atrsalsig@pacbell.net. | |
