Scott Murray's Blog, page 223

US Open: final round - as it happened

Hole-by-hole report: Phil Mickelson's heart was broken at the US Open yet again, this time by Justin Rose. Scott Murray was watching

Scott Murray

US Open 2013: day three – as it happened | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: Phil Mickelson is in pole position after three rounds at Merion. Scott Murray was watching, watching, typing, and watching

Scott Murray

US Open 2013: day three – live! | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: It's day three at Merion. Find out who can tame the course as round two is completed and the third round begins, with Scott Murray

Scott Murray

US Open 2013: day two – as it happened | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: Billy Horschel and Phil Mickelson share the lead overnight. Scott Murray watched every shot, a mere 13-hour stint

Scott MurrayJacob Steinberg

US Open 2013: day two – live! | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: Follow all the action from the weather-interrupted first round and then the second round at Merion, with Scott Murray

Scott MurrayJacob Steinberg

US Open 2013: round one – live! | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: Find out who makes the early running at the 113th staging of the US Open, with Scott Murray

Scott Murray

US Open 2013: round one – as it happened | Scott Murray

Hole-by-hole report: A long day at Merion. Scott Murray was there for all of it. All of it!

Scott Murray

The forgotten story of ... David Graham's US Open victory at Merion

David Graham's victory in 1981 was his second major – as many as his countryman Greg Norman – yet he remains underappreciated

When Adam Scott won the Masters Tournament back in April, his first thought was for a man who brushed the sleeve of the famous green jacket but never ever got to drape the damn thing over his shoulders. ""There was one guy who inspired a nation of golfers," ran Scott's impromptu dedication, "and that's Greg Norman. Part of this definitely belongs to him."

That one of the most talented and charismatic golfers of all time should have served as an inspiration to a generation of young Australians is no surprise. But it does raise a question about how our minds process top-level sporting achievement.

Norman was a romantic hero, a d'Artagnan from down under whose swashbuckling style proved ill-suited to converting his talent into the big prizes. He won two major championships. A mere five years before Norman lifted the first of his two Opens at Turnberry in 1986, another Australian raised his second major. David Graham, winner of the 1979 PGA at Oakland Hills and the 1981 US Open at Merion, ended his career with a major haul equal to that of Norman. But there are no namechecks for Graham these days, nor – controversially and not a little disgracefully – any place in the World Golf Hall of Fame. A more methodical player than the Great White Shark, it turned out that to the general public, and even those whose focus on the world of golf is a little sharper, Graham simply wasn't that memorable a figure. By his own admission, too. "I was never much of a showman. I was too scared!"

Such is the way of the world. And yet, counter-intuitively, the likes of Graham should really be more of an inspiration to the ambitious young golfer than the outrageously gifted Normans of this world. The logic is sound enough. Norman, after all, was always destined to reach the top of the tree; with a searing talent like his, he was never going to end up anywhere else. Where's the lesson to learn, the inspiration to be drawn, from that? Graham, by contrast, was a case study in the power of an iron will, a journeyman with a self-consciously mechanical swing who forced his game up a notch, despite being advised by none other than Jack Nicklaus, two weeks before his breakthrough triumph in the PGA, to lay down his clubs and consider a career making them instead.

Having become the first new Australian name on the major championship roll of honour in nearly two decades, Graham finally had the confidence to make a career statement. His US Open win at Merion would be the pinnacle of his achievement, his final round 67 a stunning display of precision golf at a tournament which historically values accuracy and control over everything else. It was a round for the ages, the culmination of a 21-year struggle against the odds, his family, his fellow pros, and himself. Truly inspirational, all right.

The two majors

Graham was up against it from the start. In 1960, at the age of 14, he left school in Melbourne in order to follow his calling as a professional golfer. His father took umbrage at the decision, and offered the lad no support. The two fell out, spectacularly so. "I guess he wondered how I was going to make a living," remembered Graham. "My parents thought I'd end up a golf club repairman. Every parent wants their child to be successful. My mother wanted me to be a pilot or a doctor. I guess my father planned to shock me. He told me he'd never speak to me again and, strangely enough, he kept his word. But it didn't work."

Effectively disowned, Graham left home and made his own way in the world. He joined a local club where he earned $26 a week. Naturally a left-handed golfer, he changed his swing to become a right-hander, having been persuaded by the club pro George Naismith, a man who Graham increasingly saw as a surrogate father figure, that a greater chance of success lay that way.

He moved to America in 1969 and eventually won himself a place on the PGA tour. While clearly not a special one – he deliberately pulled his club back on a slow and precise plane, with the studied patience of a builder carefully grouting tiles – he was nevertheless ahead of much of the pack. He won the 1970 World Cup of Golf for Australia alongside Bruce Devlin, thrashing Roberto de Vicenzo's Argentina in the final having already seen off Lee Trevino's USA, then beat his compatriot in a play-off at the 1972 Cleveland Open to land his first tour title. Showing a talent for coming out on top in one-on-one scraps, he nudged past Hale Irwin in the final of the 1976 World Matchplay.

Graham won a couple more events on tour, but the big breakthrough looked like it would remain elusive. In 1979, with the scrap becoming a struggle, his friend Jack Nicklaus – the pair sharing an interest in club manufacturing – offered him some sage advice. "Look, David, why don't you concentrate on the golf club business? Let's face it, you are never going to be a great player." The Golden Bear's friendly arm around the shoulder acted as an almighty toe-end up the pants.

A fortnight later, Graham – quietly determined even by his intense standards – walked out at Oakland Hills to compete in the PGA Championship on a course which had once been referred to by the legendary Ben Hogan as "The Monster". After rounds of 69, 68 and 70, he stood on the 72nd tee two shots ahead of Ben Crenshaw, knowing bogey was enough for victory, a par would give him a round of 63 and the 72-hole tournament record, and a birdie would mean he'd sign for the best round in PGA history.

Nope, nope, nope. He pushed his drive to the right, then sent his approach over the green, incorrectly guessing the yardage after his caddie astonishingly refused to help, the bagman throwing a tantrum because his advice hadn't been sought at any other point during the round. Flustered, Graham duffed his first chip, then after bumping his ball on to the green at the second time of asking, missed a four footer for bogey and found himself in a play-off with Crenshaw.

The PGA, as the final major of the year, is known colloquially as Glory's Last Shot. And indeed it had appeared Graham had passed up exactly that, his last shot at glory. "If I'd lost that tournament," he recalled years later, "that would have probably been the end of David Graham the golfer."

What followed – having told his caddy to keep his trap shut for the entirety of the sudden-death play-off – was nearly the end of David Graham the golfer. Crenshaw creamed a drive down the first extra hole, while Graham found trees. Forced to chip out, he needed to get up and down from 100 yards. Which he did, thanks to a staunch 20-footer for par. He eventually prevailed on the third, to become Australia's first new major champion since Kel Nagle won the 1960 Open, their first major winner since Peter Thomson's valedictory Open of 1965, and only the fourth in history at that point behind 1947 PGA champ Jim Ferrier, Thomson and Nagle. There's a picture of Graham, in the wake of the win, holding his son in his arms. As the boy buries his head into his father's shoulder for the warmest of hugs, Graham is staring into the middle distance, a look of quiet satisfaction washing gently across his face, the long journey finally over, job done.

A PGA win was enough for a place in the pantheon in itself, though the best was yet to come. The 1981 US Open was held at Merion, a tough course with five hellish closing holes, but one which offered Graham a chance to shine. It was relatively short by major championship standards at 6,544 yards, but tight with penal rough. Control and placement was favoured over length and brute force, which was just as well, as Graham had neither, though in fairness he seemed uninterested in belting the cover off the ball anyway.

The course was offering up scores – Crenshaw shot 64 on day three – but the rough, as well as the glassy greens, caught up with everyone eventually. Everyone except Graham, who turned the tournament into a procession. After carding 68, 68 and 70, he shot a final-round 67 which was flawless – almost. He bogeyed the fifth hole, three putting on a green which could easily have doubled as a ball-bearing puzzle. (The greens were fast and treacherous, reading 11.6 on the stimp, compared to 6 on the wet Friday, while the notoriously sadistic USGA committee would have been happy with a reading of 10.)

Other than that, he made four birdies, missed only one fairway, and found 15 greens in regulation. Of the three he missed, he only just missed, and was able to putt anyway from the apron. He played the infamous final five holes in two under par – to illustrate their difficulty, during the week Nicklaus double-bogeyed 14 and 16, while Tom Watson tripled 15 – and ended the tournament three clear of George Burns, who had started the day three ahead himself but was worn down by Graham's relentless march. "His rhythm remained unaffected by the tension of the occasion," noted the Guardian's Peter Dobereiner, "maintaining the same even tempo on upswing and downswing like a metronome."

"Today is as good as I've ever played in my life," said the 35-year-old Graham as he hugged the trophy. By now Graham considered himself an honorary American, not so much a slight on his homeland, just the result of his desire to put clear blue water between himself and his father. "I can't vote and I can't work for the government," he quipped, "but I'm not leaving."

'It's hurtful'

Long out of the game, one of Australia's greatest golfers now lives a happy retirement in Montana, though his lack of recognition on the world stage these days rankles. Despite playing one of the greatest rounds in the history of the US Open, there's still been no invitation to the World Golf Hall of Fame for the two-time major winner, despite the organisers rolling out the red carpet for Colin Montgomerie (majors: a big, fat Pringle-jumper covered 0), the administrator Ken Schofield, and bona fide clown and warmonger George HW Bush. "It's hurtful," a perplexed Graham recently admitted, tearfully telling Golf Australia that "I don't think I've pissed anybody off ... I don't take any pleasure out of seeing people elected that have not as good a world record as I have, and I will forever not understand that."

While his legendary compatriot Thomson has vowed to go into diplomatic battle to right this wrong, it's to Graham's credit that he refuses to turn sour at the snub. He returns to Merion this week still in love with the game, and still confident that a player from the old country can do him, and Australia, proud at the scene of his greatest triumph. "I think Adam Scott is a big chance to win at Merion," he says, albeit with a caveat specifically designed to emphasise just how special his own achievement there was. "He's capable of winning four or five or six majors, but I think the second one is harder to win than the first. Anyone can win one – but not many can win two."

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Pieces are in place for a great World Cup in Brazil – here's hoping | Scott Murray

There has not been a classic finals since the 1980s but 2014 could break that run of disappointments

A duff World Cup used to come along once every 30 years or so. Replays of Italia 90, minus Gazza's bravura performance, would bring a glass eye to tears. The 1962 tournament was a Santiago snooze, despite the gargantuan efforts of Garrincha and the light-middleweight stylings of Chile and Italy. And the biggest problem with 1934 was not the looming presence of the dangerous buffoon Mussolini, which just goes to show how miserable and ill-tempered the football was. But these were very much once-in-a-generation disappointments.

Nowadays the letdowns come thick and fast – once every four years, to be exact. Much as fans wish it ain't so, the World Cup has failed to live up to expectations for a long, long while. None of the three tournaments held since the turn of the millennium has thrown up anything that lives particularly long in the memories of anyone but the rabidly partisan.

From that era only the 2006 semi-final between Italy and Germany could get anywhere near the pantheon but even by mentioning it in those terms one is in thundering denial: Michael Ballack ballooning a free-kick over the bar does not compare with, say, Eusébio hauling back a three-goal deficit against North Korea, whichever way you slice it.

Keep your standards high and there has not been a stone-cold classic tournament since 1986, or even 1982 if you factor Diego Maradona out of the equation. The reasons for this are myriad, though the main pair of problems are the unwieldy size of the modern 32-team tournament and over-familiarity with world stars (the latter illustrated by the Josimar-Murdoch Law of Diminishing Returns, which states that the increased knowledge of international football provided by satellite technology is in inverse proportion to the chances of ever again experiencing the childlike thrill of a major talent announcing himself out of the blue at a World Cup finals).

Fifa's president, Sepp Blatter, is no more likely to address those issues than he is to sit down and read the collected writings of Andrea Dworkin and yet, despite this gloomy scenario, there is still hope that Brazil 2014 can buck the trend, delivering the bona fide classic World Cup fans across the globe have been waiting for.

All the pieces are in place (just don't mention the stadiums). Start with the world and European champions, Spain, who are already in uncharted waters after becoming the first country to win three major tournaments on the bounce. A fourth would be ludicrous and Spain would become the first team to retain the World Cup since – naturally – Brazil, back in the 1960s. The Spanish are not quite the free-flowing, fantasy side of a few years ago which had promised a root-and-branch re-evaluation of All Football but they have not lost a competitive fixture since 2010, winning two major titles in the meantime. That is some dip in quality.

Spain would become the first European winners of a World Cup held in South America, though Germany – who will be into their 18th year without a major title, equalling their longest drought since winning their first World Cup in 1954 – might have designs on that claim themselves. They are blessed with yet another golden generation of top young talent, their club sides dominant in Europe. Belgium, similarly blessed with youthful verve, have the potential to be the most exciting dark horses since the Denmark and Romania sides of 1986 and 1994 respectively.

The same anticipation is not likely to surround middle-management project England who – if they make it – will probably satisfy themselves with avoiding the sort of humiliation they suffered at Brazil's last World Cup, in 1950, a 1-0 defeat by the United States so cataclysmic and unexpected that it was initially assumed the wires service had misprinted the scoreline of a 10-1 win.

But while England have their own demon from 1950 to deal with, it is nothing compared with the ghost stalking the hosts. Brazil had gone into the last game of that tournament's final pool needing only a draw for their first world title. With newspaper headlines already proclaiming them champions, 205,000 delirious fans squeezed into the newly built Maracanã to witness the procession. Uruguay hit them with two second-half goals to make off with the loot and spoil the party. Some argue that Brazil, despite its subsequent five World Cups, never quite got over that blow to the national self-esteem.

Luiz Felipe Scolari's side, as witnessed in that 2-2 draw with England the other week, are good enough to gain redemption for the masses, finally consigning the elusive apparition of the wispy winger Alcides Ghiggia, scorer of Uruguay's decisive goal that fateful day, to history. They are also bad enough – the England game again – to capitulate under intense pressure, yielding another poor sap fated to follow in the footsteps of Moacir Barbosa, the Brazilian keeper who let Ghiggia's shot slip in at the near post, and was subsequently condemned to life as a pariah.

With their neighbours and bitter rivals Argentina fielding the world's best player in Lionel Messi and Uruguay, should they reach the finals, certain to send a samba-syncopated shiver down the host country's spine by mere presence alone – Luis Suárez, up with the keeper, the last minute of the final, you finish the story – there is plenty of scope for psychodrama as Brazil attempt to exorcise those 1950 ghosts. The ruthless binary outcomes – an end to 64 years of hurt or the minimum of another half-century in purgatory – means that whatever fate awaits its national team, Brazil's World Cup is odds-on to deliver another story for the ages. It is about time one did.

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Australia 4-0 Jordan: as it happened

Minute-by-minute report: The Socceroos moved a step closer to the 2014 World Cup after a comfortable win over Jordan

Scott Murray