Happpy Birthday to Randolph Scott!

Scott (1898 - 1987) has long been my favorite western actor, especially in the films that he made from 1956 to 1960 with director Budd Boetticher. In those films, Scott, at an age when most leading men were winding down their careers, managed to revive his—and cement his place in cinema history. The Scott-Boetticher films are edgy, especially for the 1950s. Scott’s characters are not-quite-heroes; the villains are evil, but complex.

Quentin Tarantino says that acknowledged the influence of the Boetticher films on his own work by naming one of the characters in Kill Bill, Budd.sa

With a screenplay by Detroit native Elmore Leonard, The Tall T is my favorite Randolph Scott film. It’s what you might expect from Leonard—dark and complex, with interesting characters. In The Tall T, Scott is captured—along with the other passengers on a stagecoach—by a group of outlaws led by Richard Boone. Some of the gang members are homicidal maniacs, but Scott and Boone recognize in each other kindred spirits who, but for the kidnapping, might have been friends.

There are appreciations of some of those films here, and here.

Scott retired from film in 1962, after making Ride The High Country, a film by Sam Peckinpah. It was the director’s first feature film, and a tribute to the passing of the old west. In it, Scott and Joel McCrae play a pair of over-the-hill gunfighters who are hired to escort a shipment of gold. Scott plans to doublecross his friend McCrae and steal the gold, but in the end does the right thing. The ending of Ride The High Country is quite emotional and always leaves me with a tear in my eye.

Scott was a good golfer—a six handicapper—who played in the first Crosby Clambake in 1937 at the Rancho Santa Fe Golf Club near San Diego. He also was a course designer, having laid out the Creste Verde Golf club in 1927.

The photo above shows Scott in 1962. I believe that the woman in the cart is his wife—I’ve seen her in other photos. (photo from Flickr) I’ve also seen—but have not been able to find—a couple of photos of Scott in golf attire and one with Gene Littler at the Crosby. I’d like to have copies of those for my wall.

Scott’s reputation has taken a bit of a beating in recent years as he has become sort of a gay icon. The rumors stem from the ten years that he shared a beach house with Cary Grant— a place known as Bachelor Hall. If you run a search, you’ll find plenty of photos of Scott and Grant originating from alternative lifestyle websites. Grant and Scott, however, always denied the rumors—and certainly had more than their share of romantic trysts with leading starlets. Scott friend and director Budd Boetticher has this to say about the rumors: “Bullshit.”

But it doesn’t matter. Scott’s legacy is in his film, not his social life. And his films are timeless.

A great Ben Hogan story (and perhaps apocryphal)

During a pro am, Ben Hogan’s partner expressed admiration for the way Hogan’s seven iron checked up on the green. Thereafter, he kept pestering The Hawk for tips on how to pull off such a shot. In his usual taciturn way, Ben ignored his partner as long as he could.

Finally, Ben asked the man how far he actually hit his seven iron. “A hundred twenty,” the amateur replied.

Ben glared at him. “Then why the hell would you want it to stop?”

I’m working my way through a new book by Mark Frost called MATCH, THE: THE DAY THE GAME OF GOLF CHANGED FOREVER and ran across an amazing story about Byron Nelson. In the account, Eddie Lowery (Francis Ouimet’s caddy, now a rich businessman), had arranged for Byron Nelson and Ken Venturi to play a series of exhibition matches up and down the west coast:

In each exhibition they played against the host club’s head professional and reigning amateur champion in a best-ball match. At every stop, Byron made a point of inquiring who held the local scoring record, which usually belonged to one or the other of their opponents that day. Byron told Ken that wherever he went, no matter how well he was playing, he should never break that record as a show of respect to his host; that was the way gracious visitors were supposed to behave.

There’s a reason Byron Nelson was considered a gentleman by everyone he met.

Moe Norman is widely considered to be one of the best—if not THE best—ball strikers who ever lived. But to say that this genius was eccentric is to understate the case. He was painfully shy, and it’s speculated that he let other players win so he wouldn’t have to go through the trophy presentation. He slept in sand bunkers and kept his life savings in a bag. He would repeat himself constantly, and sometimes chattered like a squirrel.

It’s thought that he either was a high functioning autistic, or perhaps had suffered brain damage as a child.

Now, Barry Morrow, who wrote Rain Main has developed a script of Moe Norman’s life story. A director has been chosen and filming will start in the spring of 2008.

Shoal Creek Golf Club in Alabama will host the 2008 US Junior Amateur. It’s the first national championship for that course since the 1990 racial flap surrounding the PGA Championship there.

Shoal Creek Golf And Country Club opened as an invitation only golf club in 1976 and until 1990 had no minority members. While it had held many PGA, USGA and NCAA events, including the 1984 PGA Championship, and the 1986 U.S. Amateur Championship the club ran across a storm of protests as the 1990 PGA Championship approached.

The situation was not helped when founder Hal Thompson said: “This is our home, and we pick and choose who we want. We have the right to associate or not associate with whomever we choose.”

Finally, just nine days before the tournament, the club admitted its first African American member in Louis Willie, a successful local businessman. Willie passed away this past September.

The Shoal Creek incident had two important effects. First, the major golf organizations began to pay attention to the membership fo the clubs where they staged their events. Its probably safe to say that blatantly all-white clubs will no longer be welcome.

A second, and less well known effect, was that it sparked the creation of the well-known Robert Trent Jones golf trail in Alabama. Dismayed by the incident, and seeking to build some positive images of the state, David Bronner, CEO of Retirement Systems of Alabama invested $100 million in the creation of the Trail. It’s now a gem in the golfing world, hosting the Champions Tour and two LPGA events.