Gene Sarazen waits to tee off on the first tee during the start of the first round of the 1998 Masters ChampionshipDavid Cannon
Augusta, Ga. – If the Masters is all about tradition – I promise I won't use the "It's a tradition like no other" phrase more than once here – then one of the most anticipated annual events is the ceremonial start. I just came in from watching Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, and Jack Nicklaus tee up the Masters as honorary starters. Each hit a shot off the first tee, to applause from the spectators, okay, patrons, who crowded around the tee and down the fairway. I'm 6-foot 3 and I could see only the top of the golfers' heads from a few feet away.
It's a nice tradition. I like it. Maybe I should give it a "Like" on Facebook. Does the tradition have a Facebook page? I have no idea and I'm not going to try to find out. Anyway, it was cute to see the fellows' names on the scoring standard, which is high enough for all to see.
Palmer was on top, with "83" beside his name. Player was next, with "77" beside his, and Nicklaus had a "73" beside his name. These weren't the scores one might have predicted each would shoot, even from the members' tees if they played a full round. Nope. The numbers represented their ages.
Palmer whacked one down the fairway, maybe 150 yards. I couldn't see where Player hit his, but then again, even Nicklaus said later that he didn't notice what his long-time friend and fellow Masters winner had done. Nicklaus pulled his drive a bit, but he made solid contact and said that's all he was trying to do. The stalwarts didn't exactly hit a lot of balls before teeing off, although Player, as one would expect, was first on the practice range. But then they learned they had nine minutes of doing nothing before they'd hit their tee shots.
"We can't wait nine minutes until we hit our next ball," Nicklaus said when he spoke with media after hitting his one ball. "We get stiff."
Nicklaus played Augusta National on February 26th, en route to Toronto for a charity appearance from his home in North Palm Beach. He played from the members' tees, which make the course about 6,450 yards rather than the 7,435 the golfers play in the Masters. He hit woods into many of the par-fours. Hey, he's 73, and he rarely plays.
The tradition of honorary starters goes back to 1963, the year Nicklaus won his first of six Masters. Only nine golfers have been honorary starters. Nicklaus was reluctant for a while to accept the invitation – he used to say he didn't want to become a "ceremonial" golfer, but age had its way even with Nicklaus; at heart, he really is a sentimental guy, as I've learned in chatting with him in recent years. He took on the role of honorary starter in 2010. Palmer had started in 2007, and Player joined only last year. The "Big Three," as they were known in their glory years, were together again at Augusta National.
I remember another Big Three on the first tee as honorary starters. I'm speaking of Sam Snead (1984-2002), Gene Sarazen (1981-1999), and Byron Nelson (1981-1982). I was lucky enough to speak with Sarazen for a while on April 10, 1985, when I found him at the club just before the annual Champions dinner, another Masters tradition. Here's the piece I wrote then. I hope you enjoy this look back at Sarazen. As for me, I've got to go back to the first tee. Mike Weir is teeing off shortly, and I plan to follow him for at least a few holes. We'll see if he can get into a nice pace and rhythm.
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The Globe and Mail, April 11, 1985 - On Tuesday evening, a man in a green jacket lingered on the clubhouse verandah at the Augusta National Golf Club. His name was Gene Sarazen, formerly Saraceni, winner of the 1935 Masters. He looked out in the direction of the 15th hole and remembered a shot he hit that called the world's attention to the Masters.
The shot was a 220-yard No. 4-wood that Sarazen, then 33, hit to the green on the par-five, 485-yarder in the final round. When he stood over the ball in the fairway, he was three strokes behind Craig Wood, who had finished with a six-under-par 282. Sarazen holed his shot for a double eagle, making up the three shots in one hole. He won the 36-hole playoff the next day by five strokes.
"Fifty years since the double eagle," Sarazen said. "I hate to think of it. It was great for the tournament, started it off."
A cool breeze blew across the verandah as Sarazen gazed over the course. He folded his arms across his chest to warm himself. In a few minutes, he would attend the Masters Club dinner for former champions, with 22 other winners.
The champions would remember the shot, although few, if any, saw it. The double eagle has become the golf shot heard around the world. It carried the pond in front of the green and rolled into the hole like a putt.
Sarazen's swing for that shot was smooth and effortless. If ever the swing is the reflection of the man, it has been, and still is, with Sarazen.
Could he possibly be 83? He spoke so clearly, and he laughed when reminded of a phrase that has been used to describe his swing rhythm.
"Sarazen just takes that club," somebody once said, "and rides through the ball."
British golf writer Henry Longhurst once marveled at the ease with which Sarazen swung the golf club. "Whenever I get fouled up in the mechanics of the game," he wrote, "I just think of Sarazen."
Longhurst meant that Sarazen's swing was simple. It was simple in the way Sarazen is simple: unforced, relaxed, delightful to watch, so easy to be around, pleasant to the eye and ear.
There is a touch of George Burns in Sarazen. He spoke with feeling when asked about anything to do with golf, always droll, always smiling.
On Arnold Palmer: "He's the most remarkable player this century, to have lasted with his swing. The same thing with Cal Peete and Miller Barber. There's no such thing as a good swing any more."
On golf balls: "People don't realize that, the more dimples there are in a ball, the easier they are to putt. The ball doesn't slide off line as easily."
On aging: "I still enjoy golf. And I still play quite a bit. But, when I was younger, I could get lots of stiff games. Now, nobody wants to play with an 83-year-old."
That's not quite true. Sarazen can get a game with anybody. Golfers everywhere would feel privileged to spend a few minutes with him.
Last night, at a dinner held by the Professional Golfers Association of America, Sarazen was given the Charlie Bartlett award for service to golf. (Bartlett was a golf writer for the Chicago Tribune who once made a 22 on the par-five 13th hole at the Dunes club in Myrtle Beach, S.C., during the Golf Writers Association of America tournament.) The award should have been given at last year's U.S. Open, but Sarazen couldn't attend. It's more appropriate, anyway, that he received it at Augusta, 50 years after the big shot.
Today, at 8:45 a.m., Sarazen will lead the Masters field as it begins the tournament. He and Sam Snead, a mere 72, will form the ceremonial opening group.
Sarazen and Snead will play only nine holes. Around the sixth green, Sarazen might be able to catch a glimpse of the 15th green. He won't have to remember very hard to see his ball rolling into the hole again.
"My mind goes back to (Bobby) Jones when I'm here," Sarazen said the other night. "After a round, I'd go over to his cottage by the 10th tee for a drink. He'd ask me how I played, but, before I answered, he'd say, 'I know, if you didn't shoot a good score, you wouldn't be here today.' "
Sarazen shot a good score, all right, in that closing round in 1935. He and Jones must have enjoyed at least one good shot of bourbon, and maybe a couple of more the next day after Sarazen won the playoff. Fifty years later, on a night in Augusta, Sarazen's eyes twinkled when he remembered the way it was.
RELATED LINK: More blogs from Lorne Rubenstein
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Lorne Rubenstein has written a golf column for The Globe and Mail since 1980. He has played golf since the early 1960s and was the Royal Canadian Golf Association's first curator of its museum and library at the Glen Abbey Golf Club in Oakville, Ontario and the first editor of Score, Canada's Golf Magazine, where he continues to write a column and features. He has won four first-place awards from the Golf Writers Association of America, one National Magazine Award in Canada, and he won the award for the best feature in 2009 from the Golf Journalists Association of Canada. Lorne has written 12 books, including Mike Weir: The Road to the Masters (2003); A Disorderly Compendium of Golf, with Jeff Neuman (2006); This Round's on Me (2009); and the latest Moe & Me: Encounters with Moe Norman, Golf's Mysterious Genius (2012). He is a member of the Ontario Golf Hall of Fame and the Canadian Golf Hall of Fame. Lorne can be reached at rube@sympatico.ca . You can now follow him on Twitter @lornerubenstein