There are some wonderful parts of this book, as it unpacks a seminal moment in golf history. Remarkably, that moment didn't involve TV, a championship or even a tournament. It was a casual four-man, best-ball competition put together on a whim and a bet. And two of the game's all-time greats (Ben Hogan and Byron Nelson) played a down-to-the-wire match against the two best amateurs of their era (Ken Venturi and Harvie Ward). I'd never heard about it.
The setup was impeccable: one of the loveliest golf courses in the world, Cypress Point near Monterey, California. Perfect weather on a cool, sunny January day in 1956. All four played at the top of their games, blasting away at a tour course with treacherous hazardous all over the place. The worst of them finished 5 under par, and between them they had something like 2 bogeys on the day.
The book sets up the situation with a history of golf at the time, with special attention to how the high status of amateurs that ran through World War II was starting to give way to the rising popularity (and money) of pro golf during the post-war economic boom. Hogan and Nelson had prospered as much as anyone could during pro golf's impoverished days, earning $10,000 or maybe $25,000 in a great year. Meanwhile, amateurs could pocket money from sham jobs or real jobs in which their main role was to charm people by playing golf (stockbroker, car salesman). But they would pretend to be too classy to play golf for money (or, in some cases, they didn't need the money). Tradition kept the two parties apart in some tournaments, and in competition in others, the "Opens" that had the game's highest prestige.
The way the men's lives were intertwined was remarkable, and a reminder that the world of golf was very small in those days. Nelson and Hogan were caddies at the same Fort Worth, Texas, golf course at the same time, and Nelson (a few years older) beat Hogan in the caddie championship in a playoff. Then they shared cars and motel rooms as they tested the pro tour. They became good friends as each tried to make it, and even their wives became great friends. Only a falling out as Nelson reached the pinnacle first, and Hogan took a much more painful and arduous route, led their friendship astray.
Meanwhile, both Nelson and Hogan each knew Ward and Venturi. Nelson in particular tutored the younger men in the nuances of the game, enabling them to rise to the top of the amateur ranks.
So, what brought them together? That's the subject of the 1st half of the book. Basically, what made it happen was the third big trend in golf at that time: Bing Crosby. Crosby created the pro-am almost singlehandedly with his bacchanal known as the Clambake. It was a drinkfest, skirt-chasing, celebrity golf tournament that he hosted at Pebble Beach and Cypress Creek each January, and it helped to bring pro golf into the limelight by attracting Hollywood stars and putting them together with pro golfers and big-time businessmen.
Hogan and Nelson had played at the Clambake many times, but in 1956, they were on the downside. Nelson had retired about 8 years earlier (when he was the best golfer in the world) to become a rancher in Texas, and he came to the Clambake as one of his few golf events of the year. Hogan was in his last year of competitive play, as hip and leg problems stemming from a car accident were taking their toll. Arguably, he or Sam Snead were the best player in the world at the time. Along come top amateurs Venturi and Ward -- and their employer, an aggressive car dealer on the West Coast, bets his buddy that they can "beat any two men alive." After all, they hadn't lost a best-ball competition in four years, beating hundreds of opponents in match play. So the car dealer's buddy calls up Hogan, who says, "I'll play if Byron plays," and he calls up Nelson who says, "I'll play if Ben plays," and that was it. Match on, see you tomorrow morning at Cypress Creek.
The 2nd half of the book is a shot-by-shot recitation of the magical round. It probably would be remembered anyway, given the caliber of the players. But the fact that all of them played out of their minds is what brings it to legendary status. And the author brings that to light, along with evoking the beauty of the course -- makes you want to play it, as a bucket-list activity.
Overall, this book is a joy to read if you like golf. It's about how to play golf and how to watch golf, and it's about the evolution of golf and of the character that it takes to play it at the highest level. My only criticism -- and it gets more severe as the book continues -- is that the author seems gives too much praise to the four men. Yes, he acknowledges their flaws (Harvie became a drunk, Hogan wasn't nice to people, Venturi almost threw away his career by drinking), but basically he says the four of them are great men. Byron Nelson in particular is repeatedly called the nicest, gentlest, calmest man that there ever was. Hogan is called the toughest competitor there ever was, except maybe for Venturi. Harvie is applauded for being the friendliest guy there ever was and being so grateful when the folks at Augusta National bailed him out by giving him a greeter-type job when he finally sobered up. Harvie's cheating on his wife was "boys will be boys" stuff. And on it goes.
Even minor characters in the book's appendix get the hagiographic treatment. The course designer is the unheralded genius who finally got his due in the 1980s. The woman whose vision it was for Cypress Creek is a visionary. Etc. The heaps of praise get old.
Still, this is a charming book, and it gives permanence to a great golf match that exhibited some of the highest ideals of sportsmanship and shot-making that golf ever saw.