Q: Why did you write HOW TO WIN AT GOLF (Without Actually Playing Well)?
A: Since my theories on the mechanics of the golf swing are demonstrably worthless, I was looking for a niche, some aspect of golf that I knew something about.
It can be an exasperating game. As a junior I would often be demoralized after a round. I wasn't having fun. Then I discovered the Nassau. Even if I played badly, I could salvage a little self-respect by beating the other kids. The amount of money didn't matter. See, I had a talent for making good matches on the first tee, and for saying things to rattle my opponents at crucial points in the match. But let me hasten to add that I do not consider myself a "natural" gamesman. Golfmanship, that is, golf gamesmanship, is an
acquired skill.
Q: Is HOW TO WIN AT GOLF a compilation or an original book?
A: Original. It includes my own on-course experience, and object lessons I've drawn from the annals of golf.
Q: What kind of "lessons" have you extracted from golf lore?
A: There are scores of anecdotes involving golf gamesmanship. One classic example: During a practice round at Augusta National, Sam Snead finds himself one-down to young British Amateur champ Bobby Cole. As Cole is about to tee off on the 13th, Snead remarks, "You know, son, when I was your age I used to hit it over those trees." Cole takes the bait and promptly drives into the pines, where it rattles around and falls into the creek. "Of course," says Snead, "those trees were a hell of a lot shorter then."
And I'm always discovering new stuff. The other day I heard one about Michael Jordan. On the first tee, when his opponents ask how much he wants to play for, His Airness replies, "Whatever makes you nervous."
Q: Is golfmanship synonymous with cheating?
A: No. Cheating is crude and dishonest, while golfmanship, practiced well, is an art. Being labeled a cheater at golf is the kiss of death. Nobody wants to play with you. And you can't win if you don't play.
Q: When did you start playing golf?
A: During the Eisenhower Administration, when my father handed me a cut-down 5-iron and told me to hit the ball as hard as I could. Without thinking, I stepped up and did just that, and it felt terrific. I've been trying to repeat it ever since. Well, not ever since. I took a hiatus from 1972 to 1997.
Q: You gave up golf for a quarter of a century?
A: Yes. On September 3, 1972, I walked off the 18th green, gave my clubs away, and never looked back.
Q: Why did you quit?
A: Golf was suddenly too "Establishment"--I was in my early twenties at the time. Also, I stank. Didn't start playing again until my late forties. But I never lost touch with the game.
Q: Wouldn't you say that golf is even more "Establishment" now?
A: Maybe, but so am I. I mean, in those days the "Establishment" was evil. Now it's us.
Q: What's been your biggest thrill on a golf course?
A: Well, I've never had a hole-in-one, but Arnold Palmer spoke to me once. It was during the old Whitemarsh Open in Philadelphia. I was a marshal assigned to his group, and when he hit an errant tee shot--I know that's hard to believe--I ran into the rough and "covered" it so nobody could step on it.
When Arnie set up for the shot I was right behind him. Just as he began his takeaway, a church bell tolled in the distance and I reflexively looked at my watch. The movement made him abort his backswing. That's when Arnold Palmer looked right at me and said, "Stand still, please."
Q: Who are you favorite golf writers?
A: Horace Hutchinson, Henry Longhurst, Herbert Warren Wind, Dan Jenkins, David Owen, and though he's obviously not a "golf writer" per se, John Updike--for Golf Dreams. David Feherty is a fresh, articulate voice, judging from his columns in Golf Magazine as well as his commentary on CBS. And Stephen Potter's books on gamesmanship have been a great inspiration.
There's a lot of excellent golf writing. Have you heard George Plimpton's dictum on sports writing? "There's an inverse correlation between the size of a ball and the quality of writing about the sport in which the ball is used.
There are superb books about golf, very good books about baseball, not very many good books about football, few good books about basketball, and no good books on beachballs."
Q: Name some of your golfing heroes.
A: Babe Hiskey, Kermit Zarley, J.C. Goosey, Omar Uresti. Just kidding. Ben Hogan (for the obvious reasons, and also because he was an obsessive-compulsive who made good). Arnie, of course. Jimmy Demaret (because he made it look easy), George Fazio (I was lucky enough to have played with him in my youth), and Gary McCord, who is living proof that anyone can succeed in this game of ours.
Q: What do you think of Tiger Woods?
A: Tiger Woods is as close to the perfect athlete as I've ever seen. He's a rare combination of prodigious talent, superb training, and unbridled ambition. Golf is his true metier. He's utterly focused on winning tournaments. He was phenomenal as a Tour rookie, then had that mild slump. But now that he seems to have gotten his temper under control, and has apparently figured out how far he hits his short irons, he'll be unstoppable. Barring some catastrophe, he'll supplant Nicklaus as the Greatest Player of All Time.
Q: Do you believe that stuff about golf being a metaphor for life?
A: No. The reverse is true.
Q: You're obsessed, then?
A: Well, there's an old line about only playing on days that end with "y." And I actually like to practice! Given the amount of time and effort I've put into this game, I should be a scratch golfer.
Q: Which brings me to the last question: What is your handicap?
A: That information is available on a need-to-know basis, like if we were going to play a match.
Q: Well, what if we were?
A: According to the Southern California Golf Association, my current index is 11.0. But that doesn't reflect a recent back injury, so I'd have to play you as a 15.
