His Ownself: A Semi-Memoir by Jenkins Dan

Author:Jenkins, Dan [Jenkins, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780385532266
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2014-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

SPORTSWRITERS LOVE A DYNASTY. A dynasty sells. Something else they love is the sheer fun of seeing a dynasty crash and burn. That sells, too. In golf there has never been a greater dynasty than Jack Nicklaus, who tricked us. He never crashed and burned.

Jack would need a U-Haul to carry around his impressive records. His eighteen pro majors breaks down into six Masters, five PGAs, four U.S. Opens, and three British Opens. He was runner-up in nineteen majors, and by one stroke in eight of them. Finished in the top five in a total of fifty-five majors.

Let the fawns of Tiger Woods chew on all that for a while.

Most of those records will stand until golf is played on top of Mt. Everest, or English is spoken in New Orleans. Interesting stat: if Lee Trevino and Tom Watson had never picked up a golf club, Jack would have eight more majors. He was second to each of them four times.

Nicklaus may not have been the greatest shotmaker who ever played the game. He grants this was Hogan. But Jack was the first to combine astonishing length with accuracy from the tee—and he did it using persimmon, which is not a town in France. And he was the first to hit high long irons and hold them on the greens.

He was unquestionably the greatest winner. Nobody hit more crucial shots or sank more crucial putts in majors, and do it over a longer period of time than anyone ever. How about twenty years?

All athletes want to win, or claim they want to win, but I contend the greatest were those who utterly despised the thought of losing.

They come in all decades and all sizes. Ben Hogan was one. Sugar Ray Robinson another. Sam Baugh and Doak Walker on the football field. Sandy Koufax on the mound. Joe DiMaggio in the outfield and at the plate. Michael Jordan on the hardwood. Carl Lewis on the track. Michael Phelps in the pool. Martina Navratilova on the court. Too many to list, but so few when measured against the millions who’ve competed.

I once asked Jack if this mind-set applied to him.

He said, “I only know I was blessed with a God-given talent, and it would have been a shame to waste it.”

It was my duty and pleasure to cover sixteen of Jack’s eighteen victories in the majors, and sixteen of his nineteen second-place finishes in the majors. His winning of majors, his repetitious challenging to win majors, and his seventy-three tour victories brought with it a saying in the press rooms.

“Jack Nicklaus comma,” we muttered to each other when Nicklaus’s name would go up on the leaderboard. Sometimes we weren’t joking.

Another thing set him apart for me personally. He was the best interview of any athlete I ever covered in any sport.

I’d seek out Jack before a major got under way. He’d tell me everything I wanted to know about the current state of his game, the key things to know about the golf course, and what 72-hole score it might take to win.

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