Golfer Moe Norman's favourite song was Frank Sinatra's My Way and that's how Canada's legendary ball-striking wizard lived his life, his way.
He wasn't feeling well early Saturday morning and so the night nurse at the Waterloo, Ont., retirement home ordered an ambulance to take him to the hospital.
Moe's first move was toward his Cadillac — he always drove Cadillacs — and he always wanted to be in motion.
That was his way.
Moe Norman died from heart failure Saturday.
He was 75.
It's a sign of the affection with which he was held that most everybody knows him by the name Moe. It wouldn't be right to refer to him here by his surname.
Moe was considered by many as the best striker ever.
"I do not know any player, who could strike a golf ball like he can, as far as hitting it solid, knowing where it's going, knowing the mechanics of the game and knowing what he wanted to do with the golf ball," golf great Lee Trevino once said.
Moe won two Canadian Amateur championships and provincial Opens in Ontario, Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta. He contended for a couple of Canadian Opens. Later, he won seven Canadian PGA Seniors Championships. The Royal Canadian Golf Association inducted him into its Hall of Fame in 1995.
He played in the Masters twice. His best finish on the PGA Tour was a tie for fourth at the 1959 New Orleans Classic. He represented Canada at the 1971 World Cup.
As much as Moe won in Canada, he didn't win beyond its borders. He felt he belonged as a golfer but not as a person — it was a class thing. Moe often remarked that he ended up at the 1956 Masters after setting pins in a Kitchener, Ont., bowling alley all winter and taking a bus south to the Augusta National Golf Club.
There, Sam Snead gave him a swing tip after the first round. Moe hit 800 balls that evening and rubbed his hands so raw he couldn't continue playing after nine holes the next day.
Augusta National wasn't for Moe anyway. He felt most comfortable at public courses such as Rockway in Kitchener and at Carlisle in Burlington. He was the quintessential trunk-slammer, happy to change his shoes at his car rather than to enter clubhouses.
Moe was an eccentric. His wardrobe was often mismatched and recently he was seen wearing as many as five watches to be sure he was on time. At times, when he toured he would sleep in his car or on the course to save money. During the 1980s while in debt, his car frequently became his home.
In the 1990s, Moe started to get a regular paycheque demonstrating his unique striking method. Eventually, the president of Titleist and Footjoy Worldwide said the company would pay Moe $5,000 a month, just for being himself.
Moe learned on Thursday the police no longer wanted him to drive because they were concerned his heart would fail while he was at the wheel. Gus and Audrey Maue, dear friends from Kitchener, Ont., knew his car represented his freedom.
"I told Moe I'd get him a full-time driver," Mr. Maue, a golf professional, said on Saturday. "He didn't think I'd be able to do that, and that he'd get a bicycle. ..... He also said that the bus went right by the home and that he'd take it to Rockway."
Moe was born in Kitchener on July 10, 1929, and caddied at the private Westmount club and at the public Rockway club there.
It was at the Rockway Golf Club where Moe learned under the brilliant pro Lloyd Tucker.
Tour pros everywhere gaped at his unusual yet effective swing. He assumed a wide, stiff-kneed stance far from the ball and took the club back with barely any body rotation, and then swung through the ball, finishing with his hands high and in front of him. He did it his way.
His nickname was Pipeline, because he hit right down the middle. Moe once said he went 11 consecutive years without hitting a ball out of bounds.
Until recently, Moe and his pal Nick Weslock met for breakfast and played a few holes at the clubs he enjoyed.
Mr. Weslock, a four-time Canadian Amateur champion, chewed over the golf swing with Moe until his last days. The twosome sometimes played six or seven holes, but Moe couldn't manage more.
"He'd hit his drive down the fairway, get in the cart and then he'd get out and hit the next shot on the green," Mr. Weslock, 86, said from his home in Burlington, Ont. "I'd ask him if he wanted to putt but he said no. He was having trouble catching his breath so he just sat in the cart."
The fact that Moe didn't want to putt is telling. He enjoyed hitting shots more than he liked putting. A notoriously speedy player, he probably made as many putts as he missed by not taking any time over them. He called himself the "747 of golf. One look and I swing, one look and I swing."
Moe left a huge impression on Lorie Kane, Canada's top LPGA Tour player. He sensed immediately whether he could trust somebody, and he knew he could trust Ms. Kane.
"I'm crushed," Ms. Kane said. "I'm so glad I got to see him during the Canadian Women's Open in Niagara Falls this summer. I had a good little lesson from him. It's hard to believe he's gone."
Moe's warmth toward Ms. Kane wasn't unusual. It pleased him to see golfers improve, even if he could be so shy around people he didn't know that they would consider him cold. He was high on Mike Weir before anybody knew much about his ability. He was close with the late George Knudson, who called Moe "the most sensitive man I know."
With reports from Tim Wharnsby and Canadian Press
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