A Golden Masters For The King

Winnie and Arnold celebrate after the second of four Masters victories, in 1960.
Photo: Historic Golf Photos

Victory No. 3. In 1962, Palmer, by now established as a folk hero, entered the fourth round 11 under par and leading by two, but came to the 16th hole trailing by two. He finished chip-in birdie, birdie, par to make a playoff with Gary Player and Dow Finsterwald. The playoff followed a similar script, Palmer falling three behind Player, then scorching the back side in 31 for a three-stroke victory.

Victory No. 4. The year 1964, four decades ago, featured the Beatles invading America, LBJ signing the Civil Rights Act and Arnold D. Palmer achieving his greatest triumph. His motivation: He was coming off a season when he hadn't won a major, and was winless on tour before the Masters in '64. "I had quit smoking in January," he says, "and everybody said that was the end of me. Said I'd never win again. Anything."

We are sitting in his second-floor office at his Bay Hill Club in Orlando. It's a corner office with picture windowing, the view mostly overlooking the parking lot. A well-tanned Palmer is wearing a cool pink golf shirt--pink being a favorite color--with the umbrella lapel pin that represents his widespread and prosperous enterprises.

"I went back to smoking later in '64 and smoked off and on until 1970, when I quit for good at a Christmas party right over here. Haven't touched a cigarette since."

He put on eight pounds after he stopped smoking in '64 and was snacking madly during the Masters, but played probably the best tee-to-green golf of his life to waltz home six strokes clear of defending champion Nicklaus and Dave Marr, at 12-under-par 276. That completed the lowest aggregate score ever for a player's first 10 years in the Masters: 15 under par. (Woods is 29 under through his first nine Masters.)

"Playing well was very important to me in '64 because of the circumstances at Augusta the previous years," he says. "In '58 and '60 I eked out wins, and '62 was a playoff. In '59 I triple bogeyed the 12th hole to lose, and in '61 I blew it on the last hole. I birdied 17 and drove in the fairway on 18 with a one-shot lead over Gary Player. But an old friend who had helped me with my putting [George Low] called me over to the ropes and congratulated me, and I proceeded to make 6 and lose. That was the saddest situation I've had there. And '63 I had a pretty good shot at it and didn't finish well. Every time was a sweat. I mean, you're really busting it. You're going to the last hole and you can't enjoy anything. I just wanted to walk down the 18th hole with some enjoyment, and I did in '64. I was able to see the crowd. That was very enjoyable.

"It may have stopped me from winning there again, because I had the satisfaction of winning comfortably."

Palmer led after every round in '64 and broke par in every round under ideal weather conditions after days of pre-tournament rain. His worst hole score was a 5. It wasn't a golf tournament, it was a one-horse race, Secretariat running away with the Belmont.

Says Frank Chirkinian, who produced the telecast for CBS: "In all my 38 Masters tournaments, that was the dullest. As competition, it wasn't there. I was so accustomed to exciting finishes. In 1959, my first Masters, Art Wall birdied five of the last six holes to beat Arnold. But in '64 Arnold knocked all the drama out of it."

Four decades later, Palmer's playing partners provide insight into his unique appeal. (How many other people have a regional airport, a hospital and a drink named after them?)

Labron Harris Jr., then a 22-year-old amateur, was paired with Palmer in the first round. Harris won the Par-3 Contest the day before and took home a set of commemorative plates he still prizes. "Back then I was a punk kid from Oklahoma who could play some," Harris says. "He was really nice to me. Golf was Arnold Palmer's kingdom, and he knew how to make you feel part of that kingdom. People now don't realize the impact he made. He was it. He looked like an athlete and had that magnetic personality."

Palmer shot a 69 that first day to tie for the lead with four others: Kel Nagle, Bob Goalby, Player (who was fighting a throat infection) and Davis Love Jr., whose unlikely showing prompted retellings of the story of his first Masters 10 years earlier. Love was a young Texan who reached the quarterfinals of the U.S. Amateur. Informed that he would be eligible for the Masters the following spring, he said, "Gee, that's a good deal. Where they playin' it next year?"

The Monday after the '64 Masters, Player underwent a tonsillectomy, and Love's wife, Penta, gave birth to Davis Love III.

In Round 2, Palmer played with Chi Chi Rodriguez, and sparks soon flew. Palmer had his Army, and Rodriguez had his Chi Chi's Bandidos, as their buttons proclaimed. Rodriguez was outdriving Palmer, playing well and indulging his penchant for hat-doffing, deep-bowing showmanship, much to the raucous appreciation of his fans if not of Palmer, who believed Masters decorum was at issue.

"He got a little upset with me," Rodriguez says today. "He said I better tone it down or he wouldn't want to play with me anymore. I thought when you hit it inside of the other guy, the claps were for you. I was too naive to realize it was his stage."

Rodriguez concedes that he toned down his act, and he has nothing but awe for what Palmer has done for his fellow pros. "He played like Arnold Palmer that day. You could have put the flag in the Titanic and he would have gone after it in scuba gear. The fans always loved him, and he stood up to the challenge of pleasing them. All pros ought to kiss his footsteps."