Monday, Apr. 14, 1980

Golf's New Man to Beat

Where Nicklaus reigned, Tom Watson now tops the stats

Change comes slowly to the Masters tournament. The course at the Augusta National Golf Club has altered little since it was built in 1932, yet it is as demanding in this day of space-age metal clubs as it was in the hickory-shaft past. Even without the blooming azaleas and dogwood that provide what may be the most beautiful setting in all of sport, the Masters would be unequaled as a place to take the measure of the game's old champions and new challengers. It is the only one of golfs Grand Slam foursome annually contested over the same course.

But change seems at hand. As the 44th Masters begins this week, for the first time in more than 15 years Jack Nicklaus is not favored to win the tournament he has dominated like no other golfer in history. His Masters record forms the core of his unprecedented list of 15 Grand Slam titles: five Masters, three U.S. and British Opens and four PGA championships. But Nicklaus, 40, has not won a tournament since July 1978, and last year he dropped to 71st on the list of money winners after 18 years in the top five. His place on top has been taken by Tom Watson, 30, whose Huck Finn freckles and gentle demeanor mask a competitive fire as fierce as any the game has known.

Laboring in Nicklaus' formidable shadow, Watson has been quietly etching his way into the record books. In each of the past three years, he has been the top money winner in golf, named Player of the Year by the PGA, and awarded the Vardon Trophy for the lowest stroke average on the PGA tour, a feat no other player has accomplished for even two consecutive years. Says 1978 PGA Championship Winner John Mahaffey: "Tom has become the man to beat."

Watson became that man the slow way, working up through the ranks during golfs boom era. The son of a wealthy Kansas City insurance broker, Watson decided to make golf his career before he graduated from Stanford in 1971. By then the PGA had established a qualifying school in which the pros have to survive a hair-raising Shootout before earning the right to compete on the tour. After that they become "rabbits," harried journeymen who must scramble through early morning rounds to qualify for each individual tournament. Freedom from this grind is granted only to those who win a tournament or become one of the top 60 money winners.

Watson pulled out of the pack with sheer hard work. "There are levels of the game, and you have to work to reach them," he says. "First there was the qualifying school. Then I joined the rabbits, working just for the chance to play. Next you work to make the cut [the top 70 players in each event who are allowed to compete in the final two rounds], then you work to finish in the money. Slowly you build confidence, and you learn how to win. Now I'm working at staying a winner, even when I'm not at the top of my game. Each stage requires more of your mind, more of your swing. I was never content with the last level."

Watson had setbacks along the way. In the 1974 U.S. Open, he led by three strokes at the start of the final round, but collapsed and finished tied for fifth. Despite his 1975 win in the British Open, a reputation as a choker persisted. But by 1977, he had reached the level for which he had worked. He not only won the Masters, he beat Nicklaus by two strokes.

But the king and the pretender's most magnificent matchup came later that summer at the British Open. Entering the final round at Turnberry in a tie, they reeled off what may have been the finest round of golf in history: Nicklaus scored an incredible 66 on the difficult Scottish course; Watson shot 65. Later Nicklaus admitted: "I just couldn't shake him."

Since that breakthrough season, Watson has led the pros in tournaments won (a total of 10 in '78 and '79) and prize money earned ($825,065). Jerry Pate, 1976 U.S. Open champion, sums up Watson's game: "He has all the shots. He's better in some categories than othershe can out-putt and outchip anybodybut he stands on his own as the best, the most consistent player all-round."

It has proved as difficult for Watson to unseat Nicklaus in the public's mind as it was for Nicklaus to supplant Arnold Palmer. One reason for this may be Watson's low-key style. Instead of having an agent, for instance, he turns business matters over to his brother-in-law and his wife Linda, who juggles his schedule while also taking care of their six-month-old daughter, Meg, and their suburban Kansas City home. Though subdued on the course, Watson has a quiet charm with the fans, flashing a boyish grin to acknowledge their cheers and tirelessly signing autographs after the day's play has ended. Such qualities do not go unnoticed, especially at the Masters, where third-generation ticket holders judge a golfer with knowing eyes. There, Watson's large galleries bespeak agreement with Gary Player's assessment: "Tom is a very, very fine golfer and a particularly nice man. I love to see a young man come along like him. It's a credit to the game."

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