Poor Old Nelson

"I feel like I'm 100 years old," said 33-year-old Byron Nelson. He limped into Dayton's Moraine Country Club, bowed down by a lame back and too much golf. Then, with a sigh, he pulled himself together and hobbled 36 holes in 6 under par to tie for medal honors in the Professional Golfers' Association Championship. That still left a long row of match play to hoe, and Nelson was feeling no spryer.

But when he ran into wiry Mike Turnesa in the second round of match play, the invalid threw away his mental crutches. The veteran Turnesa was red hot. Nelson, just plain hot, was two down with four holes to go, but he was not quite ready to be counted out. Summoning his last reserve of calm (a rival pro says that if Nelson gave anyone a blood transfusion, the beneficiary would come down with pneumonia), the champ shot a birdie and took the 33rd hole. Another birdie evened the match on the 34th. An eagle 3 on the 475-yd. 35th edged Turnesa's birdie. Nelson coasted in by halving the 36th with a par 4.

Over the hump with this burst, the part-time umbrella salesman could not be stopped. He calmly outshot ex-Yankee Ballplayer Sam Byrd in the final to pocket the P.G.A.'s first prize, $5,000 in war bonds, and stretch his winning string to a dizzy nine straight tourneys. His victory-starved rivals' future looked darker than ever. Cracked Mike Turnesa: "I was 7 under par. . . . I don't see how anyone can beat him."

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