Poor Porky

Last June, when the brass hats of the U.S. Golf Association, on the last day of the U. S. Open, ordered the word DISQUALIFIED chalked up against the name of Edward Oliver, they did not realize what they were starting. Edward Oliver, a greasy-haired 230-pounder called "Porky," had teed off (with two other players in his threesome) a half hour before the time assigned for his last round. That was contrary to the rules of the U.S.G.A. Even though Ed Oliver's total score (for the four rounds) was 287--a tie with Lawson Little and Gene Sarazen for first place--officals firmly maintained that a rule is a rule, barred Oliver from the playoff.

To the mahority of U.S. golf fans, Oliver was a nobody. Son of a Delaware coal miner, he had quietly come up from the caddy ranks to a job as golf pro at an obscure country club in Hornell, N.Y. Last winter, in his second trek over the Grapefruit Circuit, he won two tournaments: the Bing Crosby Open and the Phoenix Open. Except to his colleagues who toured the southern resorts and to spectators who happened to see his par-busting play, Ed Oliver was just another pro--until he was DISQUALIFIED.

Then suddenly everybody knew about "poor Porkey." Sportswriters from coast to coast sobbed about the "poor but honest boy" who had been given a raw deal by golf's "stuffed shirts." Every community wanted to see Porky. The Professional Golfers Association had a hard time book ing a tournament unless Oliver was entered.

When Oliver won the rich St. Paul Open, a few weeks later, with a score two strokes better than that of Lawson Little (who had finally won the U. S champion ship), golf fans were convinced that Porky was the "uncrowned champ." As a consolation, Champion Little volunteered to play a few exhibition matches with Oliver. Then, when Little had to return to his job in the White Mountains, Golf, an up-& -coming young magazine, got Runner-up Sarazen to go on an exhibition tour with Oliver. Originally scheduled for 30 days, the tour proved so popular it was last week extended for 30 more (through September). In every town there was a gala reception for 23-year-old Porky Oliver. Kids followed him around. Young men aped his bright striped shirts and socks. Fat men were encouraged to go out and break 100 once more.

Though he is now considered one of the best golfers in the U. S., Porky has put on no airs. While Sarazen stays at the best hotels, Porky flops at a tourist camp. Though Sarazen wears custom-made silk shirts and gold cuff links, Porky spurns a tie ("only dudes wear ties''). To satisfy his enormous appetite, he often takes hamburgers along in his golf bag to keep from "starving" during a match. When he won his first big-time tournament last winter, he gave his kid brother $5 to buy all the ice-cream sodas he could manage. Porky on the locker room: "It ain't no place for me. If you stick around, you have to drink too many of them Tom Collinses."

Riding around from town to town, Ed Oliver, who lived on hamburgers and water before the U. S. Open, snoozes in the back seat of his Packard (his kid brother is his chauffeur), thanks his lucky star that the U. S. G. A. kicked him out of the tournament. Poor Porky, barred from last week's national P. G. A. championship too (because he has not yet served five years as a golf pro), is probably making more money ($400 a week) as the guy who was kicked out of the Open than he would have made as the guy who won.

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