Bing's Party

Bing Crosby, in a sloppy orange sweater, stepped jauntily from tee to green. He was shooting good golf ("Something around 80," he guessed). On the 18th hole, his ball plopped within five feet of the pin (applause) and then he sank the putt (more applause). Bing looked reproachfully over his shoulder and husked: "What did ya expect?"

It was Bing's party. He dug into his pocket for $10,000 in prize money, played more for the fun of it than in the hope of beating anybody, and helped entertain on the 19th hole. His guests were handpicked: the amateurs by him, the pros by their own P.G.A. Bing's 86 amateurs included some good golfers, some good friends, some who were both. From Hollywood came Randolph Scott, John Hodiak, Dennis O'Keefe and Amos 'n' Andy's Freeman (Amos) Gosden, who are better than average players. Next to Augusta's Masters' Tournament, which is the great Bobby Jones's personal party, Bing's pro-amateur championship was the stop most top golfers least wanted to miss. Last week, an odd crew of 172 contestants trudged foursome-by-foursome around California's treacherous Cypress Point course on Monterey Peninsula--and came to the awesome 16th hole.

Perilous No. 16. Even Ben Hogan's iron jaw rattled at the sight of it. The tee is a rocky promontory jutting out into the Pacific Ocean. The next sight of land is another rocky promontory 192 yards down the California coast; in between, foaming breakers crash distractingly on the rocks. Hogan, no man to let salt water scare him, promptly overdrove the green; several of his fellow pros--including Jimmy Thomson and Ralph Hutchinson--dunked their first ball into the ocean.

Some of the amateurs, who-included Jimmy McLarnin, ex-welterweight champion, and Ernie Nevers, Stanford's great All-America of 23 years ago, did better. Bing, proud of himself at getting across the abyss to the edge of the green, flubbed a second shot that most schoolkids could have made.

Next day, Crosby & Co. moved over to Monterey Peninsula, an easier course, and then to spectacular Pebble Beach for the final 18. On the first tee, a kid yelled, "Betcha a quarter," as Bing began his backswing. Without pausing, Bing yelled back, "A quarter what?" and drove the ball out 230 yards. Among the pros, the pacesetter was slender Lloyd Mangrum, with Hogan and Bobby Locke dangerously close.

Hazardous No. 8. At Pebble Beach, the hole that players feared most and the crowd most enjoyed was No. 8. It is a 425-yd. dogleg running around the edge of a steep cliff, with hazards to the right & left, and about 135 yards of salt water to go over. Lloyd Mangrum, playing the kind of golf that made him 1946's U.S. Open Champion, got his par. His final score for the 54 holes: 205, ten under par. Said Mangrum, collecting the $2,000 first prize:* "This is my week off. I'm playing here for fun."

*The team that won the pro-amateur best ball prize: Hershey, Pa. Pro Ben Hogan, Amateur John Dawson.

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