Gobble

The best way to win an Open Golf Championship is to sit in the locker-room. No one knows this better than Thomas Philip Perkins, British amateur champion in 1928, runner-up to Bobby Jones for the U. S. amateur the same year. Month ago Perkins became dissatisfied with his job in a Manhattan brokerage company. He announced that he would become a professional golfer, set out to get himself a position by doing well in the U. S. Open at Flushing, L. I., last week. After the second round he was tied for the lead with 69,76-145. After his third round 74, he was a stroke ahead of the field. Coming to the 18th green on his last round, his long iron shot stopped five feet from the pin. Extraordinarily deliberate, Perkins examined the putt carefully through his steel spectacles. Then he sank it for a birdie 3, a total of 289. It was five strokes better than Bobby Jones had guessed would win the tournament. Still deliberate, Perkins extracted the ball from the cup, gave it to his caddy, entered the locker room, straddled a bench, lighted a cigar, ordered a glass of cold beer and prepared to discuss the U. S. Open while waiting to hear that his 289 had definitely won.

There was a great deal to discuss. The Fresh Meadow Course, well-trapped, tricky but comparatively honest, has bent-grass greens that are molded in sly ridges. In addition to this, a high wind blew through the first two rounds. A big California!!, Olin Dutra, had the low score -- 69 -- the first day but everyone said that the man to watch when the wind blew was dark, grinning Jose Jurado of the Argentine, favorite professional of the Prince of Wales, who was playing in his first U. S. Open. Wiry little Jurado hits his shots with an extraordinarily brief follow through but they are almost always straight. Last week he twitched his drives down the centre of Fresh Meadow's fairways and apparently helped several of his putts to drop by a trick, which he seldom failed to execute, of falling down on the green, after putting, in the direction which he hoped his ball would roll. Jurado's 74 in the first round was respectable, his next round, 71, was excellent enough to leave him tied with Perkins.

Jurado, though, was by no means the only man to watch. Walter Hagen, who used to have the biggest galleries in golf, had the biggest gallery again for his second round last week. Too proud of his appearance to wear glasses (which he probably needs), Hagen putted badly, drove well, made a left-handed recovery shot with a right-handed niblick, stayed in the running with 148 for the first two rounds. So did his partner, Wiffy Cox, who, when he failed to hole easy putts, threw away his ball and then his putter. Swart, cocky little Gene Sarazen, back from winning the British Open with a record 283, started badly on his onetime home course, but he was only a stroke back of Perkins, tied with Jurado and Leo Diegel, with 220 after his third round. A stroke back of these three was terrier-like little Bobby Cruickshank, who tied Bobby Jones for the Open in 1923. He played the first nine holes of his third round in an amazing 32, finished with a 69.

All this Perkins well knew last week as he sat in the locker-room sipping his beer. He knew also that the only men he really had to fear were Cruickshank and Sara zen. Hagen had blown up in the morning. Dutra had taken an 8 at the 15th. Jurado, Diegel and Cox had finished with higher scores than his. But Cruickshank and Sarazen were still out on the course. Cruickshank reached the turn in 33 and Sarazen in 32. Cruickshank needed a 68 for the round to tie and Sarazen needed 69. They were playing against the worst hazard in golf, a carded score, and it looked as though a thunderstorm would blow over from Long Island Sound before they finished the last nine holes.

Cruickshank, two couples ahead of Sarazen, hit his shots with almost resentful determination. On the 16th, he missed an 8-ft. putt and needed two pars for his 68. He got them smoothly on the next two holes. Then he walked briskly through the gallery that was waiting to see Sarazen finish and joined Perkins in the locker-room.

Sarazen, favorite in the betting before the tournament, had been six strokes behind the leaders after playing the first nine holes of his third round in 38. By coming in in 32 and starting his last round with another 32--incredibly low scoring for Fresh Meadow even without a wind--he had made his job much easier but it was still hard to believe that he would win. It became less difficult with every hole. Sarazen had pars for the first five holes of the second nine, a birdie 3 on the hard 15th. When he missed his putt for a 4 on the long 16th Sarazen, unlike Bobby Cruickshank, smiled. He needed only two more pars for a 66. Sixty-six would be a record round for a U. S. Open. It would give him a winning total of 286 and tie Chick Evans' U. S. Open record made at Minikahda.

Even Perkins by this time was ready to stop waiting in the locker-room. He joined the crowd that was waiting at the 18th green to watch Sarazen play his 286th shot, an 8-ft. putt. It was a noisy crowd, impatient to cheer Sarazen for equaling Bobby Jones's unique feat of winning the British and U. S. Opens in the same year. The crowd swarmed over the traps, over the edge of the green, past the course marshals until there was only a tight 20-ft. circle around Sarazen and his ball. Perkins tried to look over the heads in front of him but he could not do it. Standing on tiptoe, peering through his steel spectacles, he could just see the top of Sarazen's head, bent over the ball. Then he heard a hollow gobble as the ball went into the cup.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.