Southern California's No. 1 Source for Golf
STROKE OF THE DAY |
"Everyone has his own choking level, a level at which he fails to play his normal golf. As you get more experienced, your choking level rises." |
-Johnny Miller |
SITE
SEARCH
GOLF
CALENDAR
PEOPLE
|
||||
 This year’s five inductees are perhaps the most diverse group to date: Legendary entertainer Bob Hope helped transform the Coachella Valley into a major golf destination through his work with the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic. Sportswriter Jim Murray’s ability to write humorously and poetically about the game entertained and informed golf fans for decades. Jerry Anderson is a longtime teaching professional who was instrumental in bringing the Toshiba Senior Classic to The Newport Beach Country Club. Dave Stockton Sr. comes from a golfing family and has enjoyed great success on the PGA Tour and the Champions Tour. Laura Baugh was a golfing phenom during her junior and collegiate days who struggled on the LPGA Tour. Her story about rising and falling and rising again is one of five that are told on the following pages. Bob Hope Bob Hope’s reputation as one of America’s most beloved entertainers wasn’t earned because of golf. Had Hope never topped a drive or three- putted a green, he would still be viewed as a cultural icon thanks to his film, TV and touring career. But though the stage and screen were realms he was accustomed to, it’s easy to believe that, had he been able, Hope would have traded all the glamour and attention for fairways and greens. Hope was the greatest golf ambassador the world has ever seen. He included it in his films, told jokes about it in his monologues and used a golf club as a prop during his USO shows. He wrote a book about the game, studied with Ben Hogan, played in the 1951 British Open and spent time on more than 2,000 courses, all the while spreading his love of the game everywhere he went. For these efforts, Hope was inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1983. But Hope’s impact on the game in Southern California goes beyond his worldwide promotions. It’s possible that without Hope’s involvement in the golf tournament that still bears his name, the Coachella Valley would look far different than it does today. “I think that’s an accurate statement, I truly do,” said Ernie Dunlevie, a member of the board of the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic and its predecessor, the Palm Springs Desert Classic. “I think the tournament would have lasted because the community is so supportive, and there would have been golf courses, but I think it’s a fair statement that he helped us as a golf tournament and a community.” Hope’s involvement with the tournament helped put Palm Springs on the golf map, but the force of his personality, and his scores of big-name Hollywood friends, helped make the event one of the PGA Tour’s marquee tournaments. And the more people who watched the event on TV, the more people were tempted to call Southern California home. “Ever since Bob joined us the coverage of the event was international,” Dunlevie said. “And I think that’s helped grow the Coachella Valley. You’ve got people snowed in on the East Coast and in the Midwest and they turn on their TVs in January and there’s people sitting in the gallery in short sleeves. That’s certainly helped us.” But Hope didn’t lend his name to the tournament in 1965 for fame or notoriety. He lived in Palms Springs, had played in the inaugural Palm Springs Classic in 1960 and was the unofficial mayor of the city, but “he had never seriously thought about lending his name to anything,” said Dunlevie, who, along with Milt Hicks, convinced him to do it. “I think that since we were a charitable event that helps local charities was enough for him.” Hope also donated some of the land for the tournament’s primary charity, the Eisenhower Medical Center, and it was his friendship with the former president that convinced him to lend his name to what has become a world-class medical facility. The tournament has raised nearly $40 million for the medical center and other organizations, such as the Betty Ford Clinic and the Coachella Valley Boxing Club. Hope’s influence continues to be felt, even though he died in 2003 at the age of 100. In 1993, the Hope family approved an agreement that ensures the use of Hope’s name and ski-sloped nose’s likeness for as long as the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic raises and distributes charitable funds. “That’s a testament not just to Mr. Hope but also the PGA Tour and Chrysler, all of whom feel the name is appropriate for the event and it should stay that way,” Dunlevie said. Last year, the H.N. & Frances C. Berger Foundation gave a new course to the Bob Hope Chrysler Classic because of its charitable work. The Classic Course at NorthStar is the first course on the PGA Tour owned by a tour event. The distinction gives the course and tournament the ability to raise money year-round. Laura Baugh To paraphrase the seminal American sportswriter Grantland Rice, it’s not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. That’s not always true when it comes to golf. You could finish second 1,000 times on a major tour but until you crack the winner’s circle and hold the trophy in your hand, there’s a general consensus that you haven’t reached the highest pinnacle. Laura Baugh played parts of 24 years on the LPGA Tour. She had 66 top-10 finishes — including 10 second-place paychecks — but never won a tournament. That’s impressive, but it doesn’t come close to her fantastic run as one of Southern California’s top junior and amateur players in the 1960s and early ’70s. Baugh moved to Long Beach from Flor-ida when she was 10. Her mother didn’t have a lot of money, so Baugh came up with creative ways to play the game. “There was a group of us who couldn’t afford to play so we usually snuck on,” Baugh recalled. “Usually the rangers looked the other way, but every so often they’d come to kick us off and then it was my job to cry, since I was usually the only girl.” Baugh won the L.A. Women’s City Championship twice in her early teens and earned a pass to Long Beach’s public courses. She also won the California Girls Championship twice and the National PeeWee Championship five times, in addition to winning the 1970 and 1971 Southern Amateur Championships and representing the United States on the Curtis Cup and World Cup teams in 1972. Her crowing achievement, however, was winning the 1971 U.S. Women’s Amateur at the age of 16. She remains the youngest woman to ever win that prestigious title. “Without junior golf in Southern California, I couldn’t have played competitively,” said Baugh, who attended Wilson High in Long Beach, where there was no girls’ golf team. “It was a great organization and we had some great players, like Amy Alcott.” Baugh finished high school two years early and considered going to Stanford. “But they didn’t have a girls’ golf team and I wanted to play golf,” she said. Lured by a $1,000 check and an all-expense paid trip to Japan, Baugh turned professional at 17 and played a few events in Asia. She joined the LPGA Tour at 18 and immediately made headlines, finishing second in her first tournament en route to being voted Rookie of the Year. Her outgoing personality and dazzling looks caught the eye of television, and Baugh appeared in a number of commercials in the ’70s, including an award-winning turn as the Ultra-Brite girl. Her commercial commitments and family priorities impacted her practice routine and intensity on the course, something she thinks combined to keep her from the winner’s circle. “I had plenty of leads that I let go or choked on and came up second a lot of times, but I never thought there was a problem since I thought I would eventually win a lot of times,” Baugh said. “But I had a lot of opportunities when I was young to make commercials and, coming from a family that didn’t have a lot of money, I felt that was a blessing. I was paid well and had a wonderful experience, and then when I started having children my priorities changed greatly. I may not have the trophies, but I have great kids and a great life and I think I’ve been very successful because my children are healthy and happy.” Baugh, 50, now works as a golf analyst for television and wrote a biography about her life in 1999. “Out of the Rough” earned critical praise because it touched on the sensitive subjects of spousal abuse, eating disorders and substance abuse. That book, along with her personality, made her a big draw for corporate outings and motivational seminars. Though she doesn’t play professionally any longer, Baugh is excited about the state of the LPGA Tour. “We have a great product and wonderfully talented players, and it’s a great time to watch them compete,” she said. Baugh, who has seven children, still works on her game and enjoys spending time on the course, particularly with her children who love to golf, such as Eric Cole, 17, who apparently has his mother’s flair for the game. “He’s a phenom, the best young player I’ve ever seen,” Baugh said. “He hasn’t been exposed like other juniors but I can tell when you have the right work ethic and passion. So part of my joy with golf is staying active and relatively good so I can watch him and my other children who like the game and help them out.” Jim Murray Bill Dwyre made sure he got to know columnist Jim Murray during his first few weeks as sports editor of the Los Angeles Times. Murray was not only a sportswriter known for his smart, humorous and well-written columns, he also was a golf fanatic who had memberships at Riviera and Bel-Air. Dwyre figured a golf course would be the perfect setting to break the ice between a neophyte editor and a Los Angeles institution. “I wasn’t sure if I was playing with a scratch golfer or a 25,” Dwyre recalled about their initial round 25 years ago. After watching Murray hit a weak drive on the first hole, the famous columnist made a 40-foot putt for birdie and nonchalantly retrieved his ball from the hole without saying a word. He wound up shooting a 111. “We had a great time,” Dwyre said. “He turned out to be not a very good golfer, but he had a real love for the game.” And he always had a story to tell. One in particular stuck with Dwyre. As they got set to tee off on the 18th hole at Riviera with the daunting elevated fairway in their sights, Murray slowed down for an instant and told Dwyre that he had two goals in life: “One was to win the Pulitzer Prize; the other was to get a drive up that hill,” Dwyre said. Murray wrote passionately, intelligently, sarcastically, humorously and, above all, honestly about every kind of sport, but golf seemed to be closest to his heart. The antagonizing yet seductive game piqued his curiosity and stoked the coals of righteous indignation that every good journalist needs to prosper in a task where even your most salient opinion can be yesterday’s news tomorrow. “I think it was the ever-present tease element to it,” Dwyre said of Murray’s fascination with golf. “He referred to it in terms of it being a mistress. You never knew when you stepped on the course if, in five hours, you’d have the greatest experience or most miserable day of your life.” Murray became the Times’ lead columnist in 1961 after working as a general assignment reporter for the Los Angeles Examiner, a West Coast correspondent for Time Magazine and an editor for Sports Illustrated, which he helped found. Murray entertained readers for 37 years with his reports on what started as the Los Angeles Open and is now known as the Nissan Open. Whether he was writing about Humphrey Bogart staking out a place beneath his favorite tree at Riviera, reminiscing about the great Ben Hogan, or hanging out with Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus, Murray gave the event, and its players, a resonance and life through his words and style. “I think golf was one of his favorite sports to work because it created things for him to write about,” Dwyre said. “He loved the unpredictability and he loved the people in the game. He was very close to most of the big players, like Palmer and Nicklaus, who went to parties at his house.” One story in particular sticks with Dwyre. “Murray loved to tell this story about the day Palmer was having a miserable round and he happened to look back and see Murray was following behind,” he said. “Arnold always had this thing about how Murray loved Nicklaus so much and Arnold would always tease him about it. Well, after about his fourth shot, he’s under a tree branch and there is no path to the green and, before he hits, Palmer walked over to Murray and said, ‘What would Nicklaus do?’ Jim said, ‘Nicklaus would never have gotten himself in this situation.’ “That was Jim. His column was always a little bit of history, a little bit of witticism and sarcasm and a little bit of fun. That was his pot of soup. And for some reason he was able to walk the line. I remember reading columns when he would shred somebody, but just a short time later I’d see him run into the person and they were actually honored that the great Jim Murray shredded them in print.” Though Murray died in 1998, his legacy continues. A celebrity golf tournament each December helps raise money for the Jim Murray Foundation, which gives scholarships to journalism students at top colleges. The foundation’s event partner is the International Golf Museum, a La Quinta facility that includes a Jim Murray Writers’ Wing. But Murray’s biggest contribution to Southern California golf involved sitting at a typewriter for 37 years and painstakingly hammering out column after column, all of which would be devoured the next morning by millions. “Did he impact golf in Southern California? Absolutely,” Dwyre said. “You’ve got a guy like Jim Murray revering and writing about the game and giving it prominence in the biggest newspaper in Los Angeles. You bet it helped the game grow here.” Nine years after Dwyre and Murray played their first round together at Riviera, Murray accomplished one of his goals: the Pulitzer Prize. He still hadn’t hit a tee shot beyond the hill at No. 18, but he scaled the biggest hill any journalist could hope to climb. Following are excerpts from some of Jim Murray’s golf columns. The first shows his disaffection of Augusta National and its racial policies. The second is an homage to Murray’s favorite athlete, Ben Hogan. “Charlie Sifford is a golfer, an American, a gentleman. He is not, however, a Caucasian. Until 1961, this seriously interfered with his life, liberty and pursuit of happiness, to say nothing of his occupation — because golf was a ‘Members Only’ club till then ... Charlie was almost 40 years old before he got to play with the big boys. You can make book Arnold Palmer couldn’t have overcome a handicap like that.” “Throughout the history of civilization, there have been syllables of terror handed down from generation to generation. ‘Geronimo,’ for example, could be counted on to empty one fort after another in the old West ... In the littler world of golf, ‘Hogan’ elicited much the same effect. Nothing could paralyze a field of golfers as much as this whispered collection of syllables. Strong men bogeyed when they heard this dreaded name. Sam Snead once said the only thing he feared on a golf course was lightning — and Ben Hogan.” Jerry Anderson Jerry Anderson didn’t win a lot of trophies or gain notoriety playing golf. But the contribution he made toward growing the game in Southern California may top anyone else’s on our esteemed list. Anderson has worn many hats during a 45-year career as a PGA professional. He’s been a golf course manager and an integral part of the Southern California PGA. He played a major role in The Newport Beach Country Club’s landing of the Toshiba Senior Classic and in the SCPGA’s selling of a profitable golf show in order to purchase its own course in Calimesa. But the reason Anderson has received some of the highest awards from Southern California golf organizations is his dedication to helping other PGA professionals learn to teach the game better. “The story of every golf pro is the story of how many people they have touched over the years, and how many people have come to know and enjoy the game more because of them,” said Greg Flores, a media consultant for the SCPGA. “For a guy like Jerry, who has been so important in the association as well as his role in running The Newport Beach Country Club, it’s easy for an outsider to overlook his efforts because he, like most golf pros, is behind the scenes. But his entire career has been, in some measure, how to make better PGA pros. He absolutely deserves recognition for everything he’s done over the years.” Anderson grew up playing golf at Altadena Golf Course. After a few years of learning the trade, he became a PGA member in 1961. Though a good player, he never seriously considered making it on tour. “Back in those days there was a big difference between the tour now and then,” Anderson said. “There weren’t nearly as many events or opportunities to go on tour unless you had a sponsor. It really wasn’t that lucrative. So most of us went into other venues, and since I really liked teaching the game and creating an environment that was enjoyable for everyone, that’s the direction I took.” Anderson was president of the SCPGA in the early 1990s, presiding over a critical time in the organization’s history. With membership flourishing and being the owners of a Las Vegas golf show that was so successful the PGA of America wanted to purchase it, the SCPGA had a choice between keeping it or selling it and investing the money in a proposed golf course. “A lot of people didn’t think we should go into the golf business, but I’d always had a dream that we could operate a course of our own where we could service our members, hold tournaments and share some management expertise,” Anderson said. Under his guidance, the SCPGA sold the show and bought the property that is now the PGA of Southern California Golf Club at Oak Valley, one of the best all-around facilities in the region. Along with his work with the SCPGA, Anderson has run The Newport Beach Country Club for 25 years. He became general manager in 1986 and presided over a renovation that made it attractive enough for the Champions Tour to bring the Toshiba Senior Classic, something Anderson fought diligently for. Though a bit controversial at first since “there were some question marks in some members’ minds about the course being closed for 10 days,” the event has turned into one of the most successful events on the professional golf calendar, raising nearly $8 million since 1996 for local charities such as Hoag Hospital. “The membership has really taken hold of it,” Anderson said. “I think they’re very proud to see those kind of dollars go to charity for a one-week event, and it’s a lot of fun for members to see Arnold Palmer, Tom Watson and Hale Irwin playing their golf course.” But Anderson is most proud of the respect he’s gained from his peers — as evidenced by the numerous accolades he’s received, including being named SCPGA Golf Professional of the Year twice, inducted into the SCPGA Hall of Fame in 1996, and earning Honorary Life Member status in 2001. “To be voted Southern California Golf Professional of the Year is a pretty special thing because you’re voted by the peers for helping create a better situation for your fellow golf professionals,” he said. “I think you always want to do something in your industry that will hopefully improve the ability of people to do their job better. It’s about reaching and maintaining a level of professionalism and service, and hopefully that’s what a PGA professional is and always will be.” Dave Stockton Sr. Dave Stockton Sr. grew up on the edge of Lake Arrowhead Country Club. His dad was head professional at the course and the family lived between the second and 11th holes. “When mowers would work on the course, they’d just move a few extra yards and cut our back lawn,” Stockton recalled. Since then, Stockton has traveled the world, enjoyed success on the PGA and Champions tours, earned a place as one of the most prolific golf-related corporate speakers, and contributed to some of professional golf’s most enduring memories. But Stockton still lives in Redlands, in the shadow of the San Bernardino Mountains, where he is less of a professional golfer who made millions than a man committed to helping his community. “Dave Stockton is a character guy, someone who is good to his word and who has very refreshing, old-fashioned values in that he keeps his promises, works hard and really throws his whole heart into a project if he commits to it,” said Tim Evans, whom Stockton approached several years ago after hearing that his nonprofit agency, the Unforgettables, needed help raising money for impoverished families who can’t afford to bury their children. “As they head into their twilight years, a lot of former golfers can list the tournaments they’ve won, but what really sets someone apart whose life has been radically successful is when you’ve single-handedly had a direct impact on more than 400 families who couldn’t give a loved one a dignified burial without your assistance.” Stockton’s assistance with a charity golf tournament run by his son, Ronnie, and daughter-in-law, Tammy, is the biggest source of revenue for the Unforgettables. Stockton helps organize the event, solicits corporate sponsors and convinces fellow professionals, including his son, Dave Stockton Jr., to participate. Giving back is nothing new for Stockton. Among his many charitable endeavors was his role as honorary chairman for the 1995 Heartland of America pro-am that helped raise more than $400,000 for a new day-care center in Oklahoma City. “Dave Stockton is someone who has made a tremendous difference in his community when he didn’t have to,” Evans said. “He could have sat back on the success of his golf career and been a country club star the rest of his life, but he’s rolled up his sleeves and does whatever he needs to do to make [our event] happen. Literally. He’ll move signs, carry boxes. Nothing is beneath him. He’s a very humble guy when it comes to giving back to the community.” Stockton has no need to be humble when looking back on his golf career. One of the best players in USC history, Stockton won 10 times on the PGA Tour, including two PGA Championships in 1970 and 1976. He also was runner-up in one Masters, one U.S. Open and a Players Championship. He slowed down in the 1980s when he began appearing at nearly 100 corporate outings a year. “I just stopped practicing because I was so busy with other things and my game really suffered,” he said. “It was only when I started thinking about the Senior Tour that I started seriously practicing again.” In 1991, he joined the Senior Tour (now the Champions Tour) and lit it on fire, winning 14 times from 1992 to 1997 (including the 1996 U.S. Senior Open) leading the money list in 1993 and 1994 and accumulating more than $10.5 million in winnings, dwarfing the $1.3 million he made in his entire PGA Tour career. “Sure, you could say that I got on the Senior Tour at the right time, but you could also say that I was too early on the PGA Tour,” he said. Though he’s won two major titles on the PGA Tour and three on the Champions Tour, Stockton is most proud of captaining the 1991 Ryder Cup team to victory. “To be picked as the captain was itself a great honor and I took it very seriously,” he said. Stockton is still active on the Champions Tour and plans to play 15 events next year. This year was the first time he didn’t finish in the top 50 on the money list. He’s committed to working on his putting this off-season — as long as it doesn’t cut into quality time with his family, or into his leisure time for fishing or duck hunting. “I’d kill myself if I were home all the time because I can’t stop working on something,” Stockton said. “So I think my wife and family like the fact that I still play golf.” |
||||
RSS Subscribe
Digg This Article
