Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:14):
This is Jimmy Powers coming your way with another Grantlon
Rice story. Hello, folks, this is Jimmy Powers. Thus far
(01:41):
the life of Grantlin Rice has depicted in his autobiography
The Tumul than the Shouting has taken us behind the
scenes with some of the greats of sports Golden Age,
the fabulous twenties. Today, however, we're going back almost to
the dawn's early light of golf in America. We're going
to meet the fellows who, through their keen and courageous play,
began to make America golf conscious. At present, we have
(02:03):
more than five million golfers in this country, But when
Grantlin Rice took up the game in nineteen nine, probably
not more than five thousand people in this country had
even swung a golf club, much less tried to master it.
I'm talking about the days prior to World War One. So,
with a bow to the spirit of Grantlin Rice, which
will remain green and vibrant as long as there is
(02:23):
a sports loving America, we pick up in first person
another chapter from The Tumult and the Shouting. Golf lends
itself nicely to the nineteenth whole a place for refreshment,
happy talk, and commiseration. I've got a host of stories there,
(02:47):
not only from and about golfers, but with headliners of
every sport and business. Peeled down to his shorts, a
refreshing drink in one hand, an attested scorecard in the other,
It's hard for a man to be anything but himself.
Three amaters from nineteen seven through nineteen sixteen played leading
roles in the golf destiny of this country. Jerry Travers,
(03:08):
chick Evans, and Francis we Met. They won both our
Amateur and Open titles. Travers was the first on the scene,
not physically equipped to reach and hold any sustained height,
he nevertheless won our Amateur crown four times, in nineteen seven,
nineteen eight, and in nineteen twelve nineteen thirteen, and the
Open in nineteen sixteen. New York born Travers rates as
(03:32):
one of the half dozen greatest competitors who ever played
any game. He had Ben Hogan's concentration. He couldn't use
a driver, so he used a number one iron off
the tee, never long but straight as a string. He
crushed opponents with his approaching and putting. Chick Evans the
Chicago Marble was playing title golf in nineteen six and
still plays superb golf to day forty eight years later.
(03:55):
The length of our friendship, Chick, with his extra long
hickory shafts, won the Open nine nineteen sixteen, the Amateur
that same year and again in nineteen twenty. A truly
fine iron player, Chick had the sweetest foot action I've
ever studied. Had he been able to putt with the
killing coolness of Travers, there would have been no stopping
him for at least ten years. Our third grade amateur
(04:17):
before the age of Jones was Frances we Met of Boston.
As a young ex caddy, we Met was most responsible
for golf's sudden boom in America. By nineteen thirteen, the
United States had outgrown its knee breeches and practically all
sports except golf. The Scotch and British dominated at golf,
with Harry Varden and Ted Ray, two of John Bowles's finest.
(04:38):
Varden had won the British Open five times and was
to win it again in nineteen thirteen. Ray took it
in nineteen twelve, back by the London Times. This pair
came to America during the summer of nineteen thirteen and
toured the country giving exhibitions before record crowds at record fees. Varden,
a well built fellow with his publicized overlapping grip, was
the complete stylist. Ray, on the other hand, was a ponderous,
(05:00):
stooped shouldered bear of a man who affected a walrus mustache,
a Sherlock Holmes pipe, and the ability to lunge into
the ball with brute strength. Neither man was a talker,
but Varden, possessed of biting intelligence, could be civil. As
for Ray, he was usually as sour as an elephant
with a sore foot. That nineteen thirteen open played at
(05:22):
the country Club of Brookline, a Boston suburb, was nevertheless
considered a shoe in for Varden or Ray. Into this
picture walked unassuming France's We met a twenty year old
local as Boston as the cod and just as cool.
At the end of seventy two holes of metal play
over the rough par seventy one layout, it was Varden,
(05:43):
Ray and we met. All tied more than three thousand,
braved a steady drizzle for the playoff. The smart money
expected we met to crack wide open. Instead, he cracked
the two British Rocks with a precise seventy two, defeating
Varden by five strokes and Ray by The match was
written up as the shots Heard round the world, and
(06:05):
needless to say, advanced golf's popularity with the masses. At
least ten or twenty years we met had fired the
imagination of thousands of youngsters who had known only baseball, football,
and perhaps basketball. Kids began swinging a battered mashy iron
as well as a bat. Another figure I must include
(06:29):
here is Australian born Walter J. Travis, who began playing
the game at thirty six. He won the United States
Amateur crown in nineteen hundred, nineteen oh one, and nineteen
oh three, and the British Amateur in nineteen oh four
when he outgamed and outshot the supremely antagonistic British at
their own game. A slight figure, the cigar chewing Travis
(06:50):
under pressure had the physical and mental toughness of a
mule skinner. What is your secret? I asked Travis one day.
Hit a careless shot in my life? He replied, I
bet only a quarter, but I play each shot as
if it were for the title. He was hard boiled,
grouchy and tough, but I liked Walder Travis immensely. Another
(07:13):
great contributor to American golf in those early years, tougher
and rougher even than Travis, was Charles Blair MacDonald, who
won our second Amateur title in eighteen ninety five and
went on to envision many of our oldest and finest courses.
A transplanted Scotsman, MacDonald was a fiery, fierce man in
all argument and debate. He knew and bowed only to
(07:35):
the royal and ancient of Saint Andrews, but he laid
out the National Leado, the Yale, and some of our
finest Midwestern courses. He was the advance guard of the
championship courses we know today. A parting salute to the
Varden and Ray team was given me by Tommy Webster,
the brilliant British cartoonist in Wit. Following that historic nineteen
(07:56):
thirteen Open, the pair of them sailed for home, where
they were a mediately booked in three consecutive tournaments. Webster
followed Ray in that third tournament, where the lumbering giant
finished up by crawling the last two holes. Tommy asked
Ray what he was going to do the following week, do,
exploded Ray. I'm going back home tonight and have a
(08:17):
good sit down for two weeks. Back at his club,
Ray refused to leave his chair, as burning as any
of the early greats. I won't forget our first American
Gamecock McDermott, who won the US Open in nineteen eleven
and nineteen twelve. He beat Varden and Ray in the
nineteen thirteen Shawnee Open in Pennsylvania. I covered the Shawnee
(08:37):
Open that year in which Johnny McDermott, the American champion,
was paired with Varden. McDermott, a great golfer with a
tragic fate awaiting him only weeks away, was at his crest.
Varden would hit an iron approach twelve feet from the cup.
You could see McDermott's chest expand as he hit one
nine feet from the pin. McDermott won this big tournament,
(09:00):
leading the field in a runaway by something like twelve strokes.
When the cup was presented to McDermott, he welcomed the
two star Britishers, but concluded with this statement, but you
are not going to take back our cup. Varden and
Ray were insulted. The Golf Committee called McDermott back to apologize.
McDermott offered an apology if he had hurt their feelings,
(09:22):
but turning to Varden and Ray, he added, but you
are not going to take back our cup. A fighter,
McDermott would wager any amount on himself and practically any
match he played. The fire of his own intensity burned
out the little fellow, and following the nineteen thirteen Open,
McDermott went mentally astray and vanished into a home where
(09:44):
he's been ever since. Years after he was put away,
Johnny was brought to a well known Staten Island course
where he shot a seventy. He hadn't seen a golf
club in years. Yes, little Johnny McDermott was truly one
of the great naturals of sport. And that it leads
me to a reflection I've long had about this wonderful
and humbling game called golf. To the uninitiated, watching a hogan,
(10:07):
a sneed, a demerit, or any star hit his shots,
the game looks amazingly simple. For that reason, too many
so called golfers fret and fume about the game. I
mean weekend golfers who never in a hundred years will
play the type golf they think they have a right
to play. To this army of golf's lost souls, I
(10:29):
offer this advice. The quicker, the average weekend golfer, can
forget the shot he dubbed or knocked off line and
concentrate on the next shot. The sooner he begins to
improve and enjoy golf. I once saw Walter Hagen make
nineteen mistakes during one round in a North and South
Open at Pinehurst in nineteen twenty four. He finished with
a seventy one, ultimately winning the tournament. A mistake meant
(10:53):
nothing to him, neither did defeat. He scorned second place.
The crowd remembers only the winner. I'd as soon finished
tenth as second. He said, well, folks, that's it for today.
Next time we're going to relive with Granny Rice. His
wonderful and oftentimes humorous association with Walter Hagen, the incredible
(11:14):
man like Babe Ruth the Hague was perhaps the most
colorful figure America or world golf has ever known. Until then.
This is Jimmy Powers transcribed, wishing you all the best
of the bestest
This is Jimmy Powers coming your way with another Grantlon
Rice story. Hello, folks, this is Jimmy Powers. Thus far
(01:41):
the life of Grantlin Rice has depicted in his autobiography
The Tumul than the Shouting has taken us behind the
scenes with some of the greats of sports Golden Age,
the fabulous twenties. Today, however, we're going back almost to
the dawn's early light of golf in America. We're going
to meet the fellows who, through their keen and courageous play,
began to make America golf conscious. At present, we have
(02:03):
more than five million golfers in this country, But when
Grantlin Rice took up the game in nineteen nine, probably
not more than five thousand people in this country had
even swung a golf club, much less tried to master it.
I'm talking about the days prior to World War One. So,
with a bow to the spirit of Grantlin Rice, which
will remain green and vibrant as long as there is
(02:23):
a sports loving America, we pick up in first person
another chapter from The Tumult and the Shouting. Golf lends
itself nicely to the nineteenth whole a place for refreshment,
happy talk, and commiseration. I've got a host of stories there,
(02:47):
not only from and about golfers, but with headliners of
every sport and business. Peeled down to his shorts, a
refreshing drink in one hand, an attested scorecard in the other,
It's hard for a man to be anything but himself.
Three amaters from nineteen seven through nineteen sixteen played leading
roles in the golf destiny of this country. Jerry Travers,
(03:08):
chick Evans, and Francis we Met. They won both our
Amateur and Open titles. Travers was the first on the scene,
not physically equipped to reach and hold any sustained height,
he nevertheless won our Amateur crown four times, in nineteen seven,
nineteen eight, and in nineteen twelve nineteen thirteen, and the
Open in nineteen sixteen. New York born Travers rates as
(03:32):
one of the half dozen greatest competitors who ever played
any game. He had Ben Hogan's concentration. He couldn't use
a driver, so he used a number one iron off
the tee, never long but straight as a string. He
crushed opponents with his approaching and putting. Chick Evans the
Chicago Marble was playing title golf in nineteen six and
still plays superb golf to day forty eight years later.
(03:55):
The length of our friendship, Chick, with his extra long
hickory shafts, won the Open nine nineteen sixteen, the Amateur
that same year and again in nineteen twenty. A truly
fine iron player, Chick had the sweetest foot action I've
ever studied. Had he been able to putt with the
killing coolness of Travers, there would have been no stopping
him for at least ten years. Our third grade amateur
(04:17):
before the age of Jones was Frances we Met of Boston.
As a young ex caddy, we Met was most responsible
for golf's sudden boom in America. By nineteen thirteen, the
United States had outgrown its knee breeches and practically all
sports except golf. The Scotch and British dominated at golf,
with Harry Varden and Ted Ray, two of John Bowles's finest.
(04:38):
Varden had won the British Open five times and was
to win it again in nineteen thirteen. Ray took it
in nineteen twelve, back by the London Times. This pair
came to America during the summer of nineteen thirteen and
toured the country giving exhibitions before record crowds at record fees. Varden,
a well built fellow with his publicized overlapping grip, was
the complete stylist. Ray, on the other hand, was a ponderous,
(05:00):
stooped shouldered bear of a man who affected a walrus mustache,
a Sherlock Holmes pipe, and the ability to lunge into
the ball with brute strength. Neither man was a talker,
but Varden, possessed of biting intelligence, could be civil. As
for Ray, he was usually as sour as an elephant
with a sore foot. That nineteen thirteen open played at
(05:22):
the country Club of Brookline, a Boston suburb, was nevertheless
considered a shoe in for Varden or Ray. Into this
picture walked unassuming France's We met a twenty year old
local as Boston as the cod and just as cool.
At the end of seventy two holes of metal play
over the rough par seventy one layout, it was Varden,
(05:43):
Ray and we met. All tied more than three thousand,
braved a steady drizzle for the playoff. The smart money
expected we met to crack wide open. Instead, he cracked
the two British Rocks with a precise seventy two, defeating
Varden by five strokes and Ray by The match was
written up as the shots Heard round the world, and
(06:05):
needless to say, advanced golf's popularity with the masses. At
least ten or twenty years we met had fired the
imagination of thousands of youngsters who had known only baseball, football,
and perhaps basketball. Kids began swinging a battered mashy iron
as well as a bat. Another figure I must include
(06:29):
here is Australian born Walter J. Travis, who began playing
the game at thirty six. He won the United States
Amateur crown in nineteen hundred, nineteen oh one, and nineteen
oh three, and the British Amateur in nineteen oh four
when he outgamed and outshot the supremely antagonistic British at
their own game. A slight figure, the cigar chewing Travis
(06:50):
under pressure had the physical and mental toughness of a
mule skinner. What is your secret? I asked Travis one day.
Hit a careless shot in my life? He replied, I
bet only a quarter, but I play each shot as
if it were for the title. He was hard boiled,
grouchy and tough, but I liked Walder Travis immensely. Another
(07:13):
great contributor to American golf in those early years, tougher
and rougher even than Travis, was Charles Blair MacDonald, who
won our second Amateur title in eighteen ninety five and
went on to envision many of our oldest and finest courses.
A transplanted Scotsman, MacDonald was a fiery, fierce man in
all argument and debate. He knew and bowed only to
(07:35):
the royal and ancient of Saint Andrews, but he laid
out the National Leado, the Yale, and some of our
finest Midwestern courses. He was the advance guard of the
championship courses we know today. A parting salute to the
Varden and Ray team was given me by Tommy Webster,
the brilliant British cartoonist in Wit. Following that historic nineteen
(07:56):
thirteen Open, the pair of them sailed for home, where
they were a mediately booked in three consecutive tournaments. Webster
followed Ray in that third tournament, where the lumbering giant
finished up by crawling the last two holes. Tommy asked
Ray what he was going to do the following week, do,
exploded Ray. I'm going back home tonight and have a
(08:17):
good sit down for two weeks. Back at his club,
Ray refused to leave his chair, as burning as any
of the early greats. I won't forget our first American
Gamecock McDermott, who won the US Open in nineteen eleven
and nineteen twelve. He beat Varden and Ray in the
nineteen thirteen Shawnee Open in Pennsylvania. I covered the Shawnee
(08:37):
Open that year in which Johnny McDermott, the American champion,
was paired with Varden. McDermott, a great golfer with a
tragic fate awaiting him only weeks away, was at his crest.
Varden would hit an iron approach twelve feet from the cup.
You could see McDermott's chest expand as he hit one
nine feet from the pin. McDermott won this big tournament,
(09:00):
leading the field in a runaway by something like twelve strokes.
When the cup was presented to McDermott, he welcomed the
two star Britishers, but concluded with this statement, but you
are not going to take back our cup. Varden and
Ray were insulted. The Golf Committee called McDermott back to apologize.
McDermott offered an apology if he had hurt their feelings,
(09:22):
but turning to Varden and Ray, he added, but you
are not going to take back our cup. A fighter,
McDermott would wager any amount on himself and practically any
match he played. The fire of his own intensity burned
out the little fellow, and following the nineteen thirteen Open,
McDermott went mentally astray and vanished into a home where
(09:44):
he's been ever since. Years after he was put away,
Johnny was brought to a well known Staten Island course
where he shot a seventy. He hadn't seen a golf
club in years. Yes, little Johnny McDermott was truly one
of the great naturals of sport. And that it leads
me to a reflection I've long had about this wonderful
and humbling game called golf. To the uninitiated, watching a hogan,
(10:07):
a sneed, a demerit, or any star hit his shots,
the game looks amazingly simple. For that reason, too many
so called golfers fret and fume about the game. I
mean weekend golfers who never in a hundred years will
play the type golf they think they have a right
to play. To this army of golf's lost souls, I
(10:29):
offer this advice. The quicker, the average weekend golfer, can
forget the shot he dubbed or knocked off line and
concentrate on the next shot. The sooner he begins to
improve and enjoy golf. I once saw Walter Hagen make
nineteen mistakes during one round in a North and South
Open at Pinehurst in nineteen twenty four. He finished with
a seventy one, ultimately winning the tournament. A mistake meant
(10:53):
nothing to him, neither did defeat. He scorned second place.
The crowd remembers only the winner. I'd as soon finished
tenth as second. He said, well, folks, that's it for today.
Next time we're going to relive with Granny Rice. His
wonderful and oftentimes humorous association with Walter Hagen, the incredible
(11:14):
man like Babe Ruth the Hague was perhaps the most
colorful figure America or world golf has ever known. Until then.
This is Jimmy Powers transcribed, wishing you all the best
of the bestest
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