Theodore Rhodes, Bill Spiller and Madison Gunther sued the PGA Tour in 1948 for the right to play as non members in Tour events. The PGA amended its constitution as a result of the civil lawsuit.

Pete Brown was the first African American to win a PGA Tour Event. In 1964, Brown won the Waco Open; later, he would win the 1970 Andy Williams Open (now the Buick Open at Torrey Pines). He also won the 1961 Michigan Open, and was four time National Negro Champion.

Lee Elder turned pro in 1959, and in 1975 became the first African American to play at the Masters. He would play in five more, with his best finish at 17th. Elder also had four PGA Tour Victories, and eight on the Senior Tour. Elder also played on the 1979 Ryder Cup team.

Charlie Sifford worked as a caddy at age 13, and eventually became the first African American to join the PGA Tour. Sifford won the Long Beach Open in 1957, which while not an official Tour event, was cosponsored by the PGA. He eventually won two PGA Tour events, and six Negro Open Championships. Sifford had first attempted to get into a PGA Tour event in 1952, at the Phoenix Open, using an invitation obtained by Joe Louis. In 2004, Sifford was inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame. He chose Gary Player to make his presentation.

Before Tiger Woods, Calvin Peete was the most successful African American golfer on Tour. Peete won 12 tour events, and played on the 1983 and 1985 US Ryder Cup Teams. When the World Golf Rankings came out in 1986, Peete was in the top ten for several weeks. Peete was known as one of the straightest hitters on tour; some have speculated it was due to a bent right arm caused by an improperly set break. In his career, he finished as high as 11 in the US Open and Masters.

Every guy of a certain age remembers the thrill of watching Steve McQueen evade his Nazi pursuers on a motorcycle in the classic movie “The Great Escape.” Based on the real-life mass escape of prisoners from Stalag Luft III during World War II, the movie had an all star, all-testosterone cast that included not only ultimate-guy Steve McQueen, but also James Coburn, James Garner, Charles Bronson, Richard Attenborough and Donald Pleasance.

It turns out that digging tunnels was not the only thing the prisoners did, and that their ingenuity was not all focused on making fake passports and other gear. They also made golf equipment and constructed a golf course with the permission of the commandant.

There’s an article in the Birmingham Mail about one of the surviving hand made golf balls from Stalag Luft III. It’s in a case in a course in England.

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.