Arnie, Jack and Hank S. … with Ian O’Connor

Posted: April 10th, 2008 | Filed under: Interviews | 19 Comments »

Well, I did make it to Augusta for my 17th Masters. I know you were concerned. American Airlines decided that while they’re not necessarily experts at handling those big planes, they can maneuver the smaller ones and with some luck direct people to destinations somewhere in the general vicinity of their original choice. Of course, they cannot do that and also handle the complexities of luggage, which is why my bag is vacationing in Bermuda or somewhere. I had to go crazy at a 60% off sale at a Texas outlet store. I’m not sure, but I think I may have bought some Garanimals.*

*Did you see The Office where Michael ends up wearing a women’s suit. Yeah. That could happen before the week’s out.

Anyway, we’ve broken through to the other side. Today, to kick off the best golf tournament in the world, here’s another our patented long, rambling interviews — this one with my friend Ian O’Connor, terrific columnist at the Bergen Record and Fox Sports, lifelong Yankees fan, creator of the nickname “Davis Love the Nerd,” guy who predicted that the New York Knicks would make the playoffs this year and lover of Chicken Parmigiana no matter where we happen to be. Ian is also the author of the fabulous book “Arnie & Jack: Palmer, Nicklaus and Golf’s Greatest Rivarly,” which is selling like mad and will soon make Ian famous enough that he will never have to talk to me again. He might be there already.

The book is terrific for a lot of reasons, but the thing I might like best about it is that Ian gets inside the raw feelings between two proud men and two great athletes. This is an extremely hard thing to do. Nicklaus and Palmer are both nice guys, media friendly, unwilling to publicly say anything bad about each other or much of anything else. But there is a real depth of feeling between the two; it’s not hate, and it’s not love, and it’s not anger, and it’s not jealousy, and it’s not competitive rage. It’s ALL those things. Nicklaus has never been able to quite let go of the way Palmer fans taunted and tormented him; Palmer has never been able to quite let go of the simple truth that NIcklaus was better. I think it’s the most fascinating rivalry in American sports history. Lots of people have written about it on the surface. Ian gets inside.

OK, you have a link to his book. But in addition to the book, I have also helped convince Ian to start his own blog with a little self promotion and some of his ideas about sports. Ian is a terrific sportswriter with some great thoughts about games — he’s about to give a post about his one guy in the field who can beat Tiger. I’ll bet we can get some Yankees thoughts from him. Should be great.

Also for more book info, you can go to Ian’s Web Site, designed by my wife.

On to the interview:

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All right, we begin with the question where everyone starts: How did you come up with this idea? And I think in this case, you’re such a good reporter, the question here is not so much about how you came up with writing a book about Arnie and Jack but more what made you think there was something new to say about those two guys?

Seven years ago, fourteenth green, second round, I witnessed an Arnie-and-Jack scene that really stayed with me. I was walking with the Golden Oldie threesome, Gary Player included, and I knew Jack was hot that Masters officials had grouped him with Arnie and Player for a second straight year, especially after he nearly won the damn thing in ‘98, at age 58, on one good hip. I mean, Jack had outscored Tiger in ‘98, the year after Tiger blew away the field for the first time, and he was thrown out there as a ceremonial player.

Anyway, at 14, Arnie putts out and walks toward a group of fans I happened to be standing with. He plops down in one of their chairs, and says something to make them laugh. Nicklaus hears the commotion and has to back away from his putt. He’s still grinding, still trying to make the cut, and so he shoots an incredulous look at Arnie, then looks at his son and caddie, Jackie, then looks back at Arnie, who tips his cap. The gallery laughed. Jack didn’t tip his cap. Jack didn’t laugh. He just kind of shook his head in disgust and went back to his putt. I thought that small moment spoke to some big picture things between them, and Jack later admitted that he was indeed ticked off at Arnie. That scene really illustrated their differences in style and approach, and probably was the first seed planted for this book.

One thing that I find fascinating about the book — about the rivalry — is that while Arnie vs. Jack represented something huge (Arnie’s Army hated Jack, etc). they really did not have a large number of memorable duels, did they?

Not as many as you would think. Arnie’s incredible comeback at the 1960 Open at Cherry Hills was at the expense of Jack, then an amateur, among others, but they weren’t paired together that day. Jack was paired with Ben Hogan, who was also in the hunt.

The two most significant head-to-heads in majors came at Oakmont, in 1962, and at Baltusrol, in 1967, both won by Jack. Oakmont is the all-timer. Jack was a rookie, Arnie was playing in his backyard before a beered-up Steelers crowd that verbally abused Nicklaus. They were paired together in the first two rounds, and ended up in an 18-hole playoff that met a devastating end for Arnie and his Army.

They did keep trading green jackets in the Sixties — Arnie won in ‘62, Jack in ‘63, Arnie in ‘64, Jack in ‘65 and ‘66 — and they did have dramatic clashes on the regular tour — the ‘70 Nelson, the ‘73 Hope, etc. — that helped fuel the notion of an epic rivalry, but their relationship was defined by things you couldn’t find from tee to green. Like Ali and Frazier, they were so different as people, almost complete opposites. That really helped the rivalry. So did the fierce battles they waged in the business world over course design contracts, commercial endorsements, and that senior-most ambassadorial position in golf.

In fact some of the best stuff in this book is actually about the business rivalry they had after the finished playing, right?

Yeah, absolutely. Most golf fans don’t realize that their rivalry off the course was probably more intense than it was on the course. Arnie beat Jack in endorsements, and Jack beat Arnie in course design. When Jack found out that a former business partner had hired Arnold to design a golf course for him, Jack raged at the guy and called him a traitor. And they competed against each other as tournament hosts, too, Jack’s Memorial versus Arnie’s Bay Hill. There was an eight-year period from the mid Eighties to the early Nineties where Nicklaus refused to play in Palmer’s tournament, and Palmer refused to play in Nicklaus’ tournament. I think the business arena is really where the Arnie-and-Jack thing got personal. When Jack broke the ice and invited Arnie to the Memorial as his honoree in ‘93, their relationship began the rehab process.

What is your first memory of Arnold Palmer — he really was done as a great player by the time you were old enough to remember, right?

The 1973 Bob Hope. I was eight years old, but I vaguely remember flickering images of Arnie and the announcers going semi-crazy over the idea that Palmer, at 43, was finally going to beat Nicklaus down the stretch. I wasn’t a fan of golf then; in fact, I wasn’t a fan of anything then. But I do recall being drawn to the televised figure of Palmer that day. He ended up dancing at a party with Jack that night; Arnie put a woman’s wig on Jack’s head — the photo’s in my book. Last dance for Arnie. He never won again on the regular tour.

And what’s your first clear memory of Jack Nicklaus?

First clear memory is Baltusrol, 1980. I was 15, and I’d just started caddying at the local club. I’d never paid attention to golf until then — I was a baseball, football, basketball guy — but I was taken by Jack’s greatness that day. He played with Aoki all four rounds, and ended his slump by setting the Open record he’d set at Baltusrol 13 years earlier. The crowd was going crazy for Jack, the same Baltusrol crowd that killed him when he beat Arnie there in ‘67. I remember thinking, ‘Wow, I guess I should start following this guy’s career.’ Of course, nothing tops watching him win at Augusta in ‘86. By then, I was a huge golf fan and eager to appreciate just how incredible a champion Jack was.

OK, switch gears: You grew up a Yankees fan. What year is your favorite Yankees team?

‘78, hands down. I’d totally given up, like every other Yankee fan I knew. The Boston Massacre is still my all-time favorite series, that and Brideshead Revisited on PBS. I count Bucky Dent’s homer as the third-best day of my life, right after my wedding day and the birth of my son. In the still of night in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, I’ll still occasionally do Bill White’s call.

Who is your favorite Yankees player, first as a fan?

As a fan, Bobby Murcer. Roy White and Reggie Jackson are right in there, too, Roy for the way he carried himself, Reggie for being Reggie. But Murcer was my guy. No, he didn’t turn out to be the next Mickey Mantle as hoped.* There was just something about the way he carried himself. He’s obviously dealing with a very serious health issue now. I hope he lives forever.

*You know, Murcer obviously did not become Mantle. But, in context, his 1971 and 1972 seasons are very Mantle-like. Here’s what the numbers look like:

1971: .331/.427/.543, 25 homers, 94 runs, 94 RBIs in 146 games.
1972: .292/.361/.537, 33 homers, 102 runs, 96 RBIs in 153 games.

Excellent numbers. Throw in that Murcer was a very good outfielder (Gold Glove in ‘72), and you see a really good player. But the numbers deceive because it was such a low-scoring era. Murcer led the AL in on-base percentage, OPS and runs created in 1971, he led in extra base hits, total bases and runs scored in in 1972, Here’s what those numbers adjust to if you place him in Yankee Stadium in the mid-1950s:

1971: .362/.461/.591, 27 homers, 108 runs, 108 RBIs.
1972: .328/.399/.601, 39 homers, 133 runs, 125 RBIs.

Back to the interview.

What about your favorite Yankees player as a columnist?

Bernie Williams. He was always good to me, for whatever reason, and I always loved the dignified grace on the field. He wasn’t Jeter or Rivera, and he wasn’t the greatest defensive center fielder by a longshot. But he was very good when it mattered most, and I found him to be a most thoughtful interview.

What CD is in your car player or the most-place artist on your iPod?

I’m semi-pathetic on the music front, still prefer old Springsteen to new almost anything else. I’ll go with Five For Fighting and Dave Matthews.

What is the best golf shot you’ve ever made?

Playing in an outing with the great and rage-filled Tommy Bolt, the Bob Knight of old golfers. I’m stuck under trees, in jail, near a par-5 green. I was sitting eight, so I said, “What the hell, I’ll play a bank shot off the base of this pine.’ Put the ball on the lip of the cup. Bolt says to me, ‘Son, if you intended to do what you just did, that might be the damnedest golf shot I’ve ever seen.’ First time I ever tapped in for a nine with a smile on my face.

Five footer to win the Masters … do you make it?

I absolutely choke on that five-footer like you wouldn’t believe. No way I even scare the hole on it. In fact, if I’ve got a five-footer to win the Masters, I’m standing over that ball thinking, “Let’s lag this thing and take our chances in the playoff.”

Best club in your golf bag?

The driver. When I hit it straight — which happens eight percent of the time — I can hit it 300-310 yards. With the help of a cart path recently, I hit a drive 395 yards on a 415-yard hole. I barely saved bogey.

Who wins the American League East this year?

Red Sox. Yanks get the wild card. Boston has become the Yankees, and the Yanks have become Boston.

How much fun is it for you to write about golf? Your first book (The Jump) was really a much grittier tale about city basketball and hard-edged recruiting and the allure of the bright lights of the NBA. Golf, obviously, is much different, more pastoral or whatever. Did you like writing that way?

Golf is a great game to write because it is man against nature, and man against his inner demons, too. We all know that golf can break a strong man in half, and the struggle lends itself to good writing. I don’t know if the setting much matters. I tend to think you’ll find better stories in the urban jungle than you would in an emerald field.

What did you learn about Arnie that surprised you in the course of doing this book?

How much he’s hated growing old. None of us like to age, but Arnie would give anything to be 28 years old again. You’d think with all he’s accomplished in his life, he might feel like, “Hey, I had a great run. Time to smell the azaleas.” But at 78, the guy would love nothing more than one more shot at winning a major.”

And what about Jack?

That he’s still hurt by Arnie’s Army. I would’ve thought after 18 major championships, after outscoring Arnie by an 18-7 count in that context, after going down as the greatest player of all time (pre-Tiger, anyway) that Nicklaus wouldn’t much care that Palmer still reperesented the more popular player. But Jack told me for the book that when he does an exhibition or a Skins Game with Arnie, it still hurts when the fans go ga-ga over Arnie and don’t go quite as ga-ga over him.

One of my favorite moments of writing is when you come across something and you think: Wow, THAT’S going to be in the book. You have one incredibly cool discovery here about the guy who put together the first exhibition where Arnie and Jack played each other.

Yeah, that’s Fred Swearingen, a friend of Dow Finsterwald’s and a guy running the Athens Country Club in Athens, Ohio. He wanted to honor his friend after Finsterwald won the 1958 PGA, and arranged to have Arnold Palmer, a young Jack Nicklaus, and a local amateur champ named Howard Baker Saunders play in an exhibition with Dow. It was the first time Jack and Arnie ever met. Jack beat Arnie in a driving contest that day, and then they paired together to defeat Finsterwald and Baker Saunders in the team exhibition.

But Swearingen would go on to become an NFL referee, and the guy who only made the most famous/infamous call in league history — the Immaculate Reception/Franco Harris call. To this day, Swearingen swears he got it right (I think he got it right, too). He told me John Madden still won’t talk to him.

What do you think of Hank Steinbrenner?

Like him. Like his candor and accessibility. Gotta appreciate someone who speaks his mind for the record without a filter.

If you could drive any car, what would it be?

Any car that comes with Eva Longoria as an accessory.

What are the best rivalries in the history of American sports?

Yanks-Red Sox is near and dear. Michigan-Ohio State has stood the test of time. Ali-Frazier, Palmer-Nicklaus, Chamberlain-Russell….I wish Borg-McEnroe lasted longer than it did.

I know you are a tennis guy. I used to be. Does the sport ever come back?

I hope so. Rivalries represent the lifeblood of sports, and it always helps in this country to have at least one American involved. Andy Roddick isn’t the defining rival for Federer, nor is Blake. Maybe that guy is Nadal or Djokovic. We need a young Sampras and quick.

Don’t you think the PGA should go back to match play? To me, it’s like a pretend major.

No way. The PGA has given us Bob May-Tiger, Sergio-Tiger, John Daly at Crooked Stick, Mickelson at Baltusrol, Vijay at….oh, never mind. Actually, I like the PGA the way it is. In match play, if Tiger loses in the first round to Henrik Stenson, boy, the tournament’s really in trouble. You need Tiger on the weekend, win, lose or draw.

All right — big question. Tiger’s playing in 1966 — when Arnie’s still at the height of his powers, and Jack comes into his own. That year, for everyone’s background. Jack wins the Masters and the British Open, Arnie blows the U.S. Open after like a five shot lead, and they both wet the bed at the PGA, allowing Al Geiberger to win his one and only major at Firestone in Akron. So, what happens if Tiger’s thrown in the mix there?

Arnie actually blew a seven-shot lead over Casper with nine holes to play. You think Tiger ever does that? Of course not. Tiger extends the lead over Casper to 13. Put Arnie, Jack and Tiger in their primes, and it comes down to Tiger and Jack. Arnie is a clear notch below. Gary Player told me for the book that a 30-year-old Jack would beat a 30-year-old Tiger if both are using the same clubs. I don’t know if I believe that. Frankly, as much as I enjoyed writing “Arnie & Jack,” I can’t imagine there’s ever been an equal to Tiger Woods.

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