Farewell to the the players’ Player

 

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Gary Player of South Africa tees off on the 18th hole during the second round of the Masters golf tournament at the Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Ga., Friday, April 10, 2009. (AP Photo/Charlie Riedel

Gary Player of South Africa tees off on the 18th hole during the second round of the Masters golf tournament at the Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Ga., Friday, April 10, 2009. (AP Photo/Charlie Riedel

Gary Player clinked a longish shot on to the eighteenth green at Augusta, about 25 feet from the cup. He then meticulously three-putted, and to a fervent standing ovation from the huge crowd, made his slow way off the course and into the forever green memory of the game.

That long hit to the green was a typical Player shot.

Where other players were using their seven and eight irons, he had to use a long distance club. But he got closer to the cup than most of the finishing field.

The three putts were not typical of Player.

In his great days, he was a nerveless and dead-eyed putter, combining the qualities of fearlessness and accuracy, in his familiar hunched, locked kneed stance that many of us tried to imitate – unsuccessfully most times.

Gary Player is, and was, the last of three great golfers who revolutionised the way golf was played and how it was marketed: the immortal trinity of Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player.

They took an ancient, quaint and difficult game (“a good walk ruined,” was Churchill’s condemnation of a round of golf) from the closed sanctuary of the country clubs and threw it out to the world through endless travel and with films and television footage of famous matches and tournaments.

Palmer was identified by the reckless, ambitious types who loved the way he went for the hole in his palmy days, and to hell with the consequences.

Palmer was loved as no other golfer has ever been.

He played shots we could only dream of making. His fans were so devoted to his swashbuckling ways they designated themselves as his army, ‘Arnie’s Army,’ a sort of golfing Salvation Army.

Nicklaus was the pudgy guy who belted the ball a hundred miles yet had the a delicacy of a Japanese artist around the greens. You couldn’t hope to emulate Nicklaus, even though his flying left elbow added a human touch of the non-classic to his stroke play.

Nicklaus was admired rather than loved.

Fans admired the way he demolished the longest of courses and his headiness in setting himself up to win his nineteen major titles.

Player was the golfer we respected.

As his name so aptly suggests, he was a player. The Player. He was small. He made himself tough by eating nuts and exercising ferociously.

He wore black, like Johnny Cash, to show that what he was about was a serious struggle and not for the faint-hearted.

Hackers of his generation could identify with him far more than we could with the erratic brilliance of Palmer and the iron-clad efficiency of Nicklaus.

Player threw himself into his shots, falling off balance after making contact, just like any weekend hacker. Like the everyman golfer, he scrambled, he improvised and hee putted as if his life depended on it.

Even the gimmes.

My first set of clubs, as with so many hopeful golfers of a certain age, was a set of black shafted Gary Player specials. I had no more luck with them than I did with the motley set of pick-up clubs I had used before.

But what the hell. Every now and again I would fluke a drive and have that rush of adrenalin that comes when you look up and see that white sphere of a ball soaring away into the distance.

It says something about Player’s tenacity and will power that years after Palmer and Nicklaus said their goodbyes to Augusta, he played on. In 1998, at 62, he made the cut.

Even though in his last tournament his score soared out to 17 over for the two rounds, you could see glimpses of the old Player out there.

This is especially true of that last long hit. His body contorted into that characteristic pose for one last time and his hard eyes gazed inscrutably into the distance, as if expecting one more miracle outcome.

Golf, like life, is not meant to be easy.

Player, though, had more than his share of triumphs, with nine major tournaments victories. He was one of only five players in the long history of the game to win a career Grand Slam. 

His 51 appearances at the Masters might never be beaten.

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