The Front Nine

As we came up to the first tee, Hogan just took control. The press was calling Arnold Palmer the “King of Golf” at the time, but that didn’t mean anything to Hogan. He didn’t talk to Arnold, for that matter he didn’t talk to any of us. He just walked straight past us, all the way to the back of the tee–as far back as you could go–and hit his drive.

I wasn’t a particularly long hitter in those days, so teeing off from that far back put me at even more of a disadvantage. Plus, the ground was soft and wet from all the rain. Still, I managed to get off a pretty good drive, but Palmer stepped up and hit his out of play.

Hogan had set the bet at five dollars Nassau. As we were walking down the fairway I turned to him and said, “Mr. Hogan, I’ll play you on the side–five dollars for 18 holes.”

My second shot was a seven iron that got me onto the green, about eight feet to the left of the hole. Hogan’s approach put him outside of my ball, about 30 feet from the cup. It was well known at the time that Hogan was dealing with a bad case of the yips, but he stepped up and nailed his 30-footer for a birdie.

Then my head started playing tricks on me. “Here I am with the King of Golf, I thought to myself, “and he’s out of play. Now this guy with the yips holes a 30-foot putt for a birdie.”

I stepped up and rimmed that eight-footer around the edge of the cup and out. We were down one.

The second hole at Augusta is a dogleg left, with a pair of sand traps guarding the green. I made it to them with my second shot, while everyone else came up short. Then I blasted out of the traps to about four feet from the flag and sank the putt for a birdie, winning the hole for my team. I was feeling really proud of myself; I’d helped Arnold Palmer and got us even in the match.

On the par-three third I hit my second shot just off to the right of the green, then stroked a nice, delicate chip shot that landed just a few inches from the hole. I sank the putt to make par, and we halved the hole.

On four I hit my tee shot past the pin and over the green, leaving me with a downhill chip shot. I hit that one just right, and the ball rolled to a stop about two feet past the hole. As I was walking down to tap in my putt, Hogan called out to me, “Charlie, those are good looking chip shots. You’d better keep those.”

Arnold was standing by Ben, and I heard him say to Hogan, “Wait ‘til you see him putt. He holes everything!”

It was almost as if we were playing a tournament. We had a small “gallery” of about twenty onlookers and reporters following us, and there were no gimmies. When Palmer–who was one of the best players in the world and was a terrific putter–made that remark, I remember feeling the pressure go up a notch or two. That little two-footer seemed an awful lot longer than that right then; but fortunately, despite my nerves I stepped up and made the putt, and we halved the hole.

On five, Palmer sank a 20-footer for a birdie; I tapped in a little four-footer for par, and we took the hole to go one up.

As I got up to tee off at six, Hogan was standing behind me, actually in my field of vision. That forced me to concentrate extra hard. In fact I almost asked him to move, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask Ben Hogan to get out of my way! I focused as best I could, hit my five iron, and just as my club head made contact I heard him murmur, “Great shot!”

I looked up and saw the ball come down on the green about six feet past the hole. I was calming down some now and rolled that one in for a birdie. Palmer and I took the sixth hole to go two up, and we freshed the bet for another two dollars.

As we were walking to the seventh tee I put my arm around Palmer’s shoulder, saying, “Oh boy, Arnold, this is fun!” Man, I was having a ball!

On seven Arnold’s drive was in the trees, but I managed to keep mine straight and on the fairway. My second shot was a nine iron that landed about 30 inches from the hole. (A reporter in our “gallery” told me later that when I did that, Hogan turned to him and asked, “Who is this guy?”) I tapped in the short putt for another birdie, and Arnold and I went three up on Hogan and Von Nida for the match, and one up for the fresh bet.

Arnold’s drive was off to the right again, into the trees. Mine was down the middle, but my second shot left me well short of the green, about 100 yards away. Hogan and Von Nida each hit nice approach shots that got them up near the green. My pitch shot put me up on the green about 15 feet from the cup; Ben and Norm both chipped in to about ten feet from the cup.
I knocked in my 15-footer to get my third birdie in a row, but Hogan and Von Nida each missed their shorter putts, putting Arnold and me four and two up. They freshed the bet again!

As we started the ninth hole, Hogan moved to the absolute back of the tee and kept walking. He went at least 20 yards further, finally stopping at a spot so far back it was actually to the right of the eighth fairway (just about where the ninth tee is today). At four under par, I had no interest in playing the hole that long.

I teed up and hit a good shot, down the left side of the fairway. The others played safe, driving to the right, and then using their irons to get to the green. Each of them ended up about 30 feet from the cup.

My seven-iron second shot put me on the green, 12 feet from the hole. I rolled that one in for my fourth birdie in a row. We took that hole, too, to finish the front nine.

I was five under par at Augusta National.

As we were walking to the tenth tee Hogan turned to me, wanting to up the bet. “Well, Charlie, I guess I’d better press you,” he said.

“Mr. Hogan,” I said, accepting the fresh bet, “I sure wish I had a recording of that!”