Chicago Sun-Times

THE KING OF HEARTS

The golfwas great, but Arnie’s appeal was somuchmore

- HERB GOULD

Arnold Palmer, a gamechange­r unlike any other in the sport of golf, is gone. The man who presided over golf’s transition from a rich folks’ country- club sport into a game for the masses was 87.

Palmer’s nickname was “The King.” But I prefer to think of him as the Babe Ruth of golf.

Where the Babe would down a hot dog or two, Palmer would take a drag or two on a cigarette. While some rivals teased the Babe about his barrel chest and piano legs, Arnie had an intense, athletic swing that was hardly graceful.

But with amazing arm strength, an intense competitiv­e spirit and a flair for the dramatic, Palmer made himself into a champion.

Ruth revived baseball from the Black Sox scandal with his home run. Palmer put the British Open on the golf- major map by crossing the Atlantic when many Americans weren’t interested.

The Babe had the Baby Ruth candy bar. Arnie had his Arnold Palmer lemonade/ iced- tea drink.

Jack Nicklaus, with his 18 major victories and 19 secondplac­e finishes, is the king in terms of winning. Tiger Woods, with 14 major wins in a remarkable 12- year span, is golf’s crown prince. And Bobby Jones, with his 1930 grand slam and his creation of the Masters tournament, is the game’s greatest founding father. But Arnie captured our hearts. I remember walking with him at the Senior U. S. Open at Olympia Fields in 1997. He was 67 and had barely made the cut at 11- over par.

He was in the first pairing to tee off in the third round early on Saturday morning. And yet, he had a huge gallery. Despite shooting 80, he didn’t disappoint them. Walking from the tee to his ball, he would wave and stop to shake hands. When someone who vaguely knew him flagged him down, he’d engage them in a quick conversati­on.

On the par- 3 11th hole, he hooked his tee shot into a deep ravine left of the green. His provisiona­l shot also veered into the abyss.

Down in the trees, Palmer found his ball.

“Giveme a sandwedge, and give me a line,” he told his caddie, who pointed The King at the hole.

Palmer plopped the ball onto the green and two- putted for an apparent bogey.

But as we were walking to the next tee, he examined the ball and realized it was his provisiona­l. He told the scorer to give hima 6 on the hole instead of a 4.

And then he went back to smiling and saying hello to people in between shots.

During that round, I got to know his friend Howdy Holmes, a dentist and USGA official. He asked me if I’d send a copy of my story, and I did.

Not long after that, I received an autographe­d photo of Palmer.

That might be the only athlete’s autograph I have. I’ve heard the value of Palmer’s signature is diminished because the photo says “To Herb.”

No matter. I wouldn’t give up that photo for the world.

Palmer’s seven major titles, including a dramatic comeback in the 1960 U. S. Open at Cherry Hills in Denver, are remarkable stuff.

But the way Arnie carried himself is what turned golf from an elitist game into an everyman sport in the late 1950s and early ’ 60s, and puts Palmer at the top of golf’s most influentia­l players.

His gallery, known as Arnie’s Army, followed him everywhere. At the 1962 U. S. Open at Oakmont, near Pittsburgh, Arnie’s Army famously made a young Nicklaus’ life miserable while rooting for Palmer, a native of nearby Latrobe, Pa.

No luck. Nicklaus defeated Palmer in a playoff.

Although they were great rivals, they were even greater friends from the very beginning. Before that playoff at Oakmont, Palmer offered to split a bonus that went to the winner, to ease the pressure on Nicklaus, who was only 22 at the time.

Palmer was the first profession­al athlete to take advantage of marketing and branding through the broad appeal the television age brought. With agent MarkMcCorm­ack, he used his everyman appeal to endorse a boggling variety of products. WhatMichae­l Jordan did as a Bulls star beginning in the 1980s, Palmer paved the way for decades earlier.

LikeMike, the key was Palmer’s charisma as well as his athletic success. And as with Jordan, Palmer’s endorsemen­t appeal went on long after his competitiv­e career was over.

Palmer was a great player. But his influence as a hero and ambassador for golf, and all of sports, will be his true lasting legacy.

 ?? | AP ?? Arnold Palmer slips into his green jacket with help from friend and rival Jack Nicklaus after winning the Masters in 1964.
| AP Arnold Palmer slips into his green jacket with help from friend and rival Jack Nicklaus after winning the Masters in 1964.
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