Golden Bear II – Next generation
THE BOY has earned his stripes. By popular acclaim, Rory McIlroy is the new Tiger. But, despite sandwiching victory at Tiger’s signature Bridgestone event between consecutive major triumphs, it’s a case of mistaken identity. McIlroy isn’t the new Tiger at all; he’s the new Golden Bear. His line of succession is through Jack Nicklaus.
And just as Bobby Jones oversaw the young Nicklaus, so Nicklaus is now counselling the young McIlroy. Tiger, of course, has always been a law unto himself, often respectful, but always apart. Less sheltered in his childhood than Nicklaus and McIlroy, Tiger finds it hard to look up, just as he finds it hard to share.
But Nicklaus and McIlroy see a part of themselves in the other man. Before the PGA Championship, Nicklaus said, ‘‘He has the opportunity to win 15 or 20 majors if he wants to keep on playing. I think Rory is an unbelievable talent. He has got a little swagger – it’s a bit cocky but not offensive. I like that selfconfidence. He’s got an unbelievable amount of speed in his golf swing. He obviously hits it a long way but he does it consistently, with control.’’
There is the first close comparison with Nicklaus. Tiger also has tremendous power but he turned it on himself. As former coach Hank Haney observed, Woods became obsessed with distance. Tiger wanted to be the biggest dog out there and would not compromise a few yards on his driver for greater accuracy. Tiger’s pride disabled him both physically and competitively.
Nicklaus was never like that. At the age of 28, Nicklaus wrote a wonderful book with Herbert Warren Wind called The Greatest Game of All. Taught by Jack Grout at Scioto Golf Club, Nicklaus learned at a very young age to develop a complete arc and to fully extend through the ball and to hit it hard. Grout had an assistant hold onto young Jack’s hair, so if his head moved, as was its tendency, it brought tears to his eyes.
‘‘The secret of power is having a good golf swing,’’ wrote Nicklaus.
Tiger unleashes the driver with head-banging thrash metal. When Nicklaus and McIlroy are driving, the power remains in balance. Neither man has the need to wave the big stick in the air in order to prove their manhood. They tend to drive just within their speed limits.
Both are mighty long when the need arises. Nicklaus won a long driving contest ahead of the 1963 PGA with a blow of 341 yards, with a wooden head, steel shaft and the old golf ball. Phenomenal. McIlroy hit a drive of 428 yards on the 13th hole at Royal Aberdeen in the week before the Open.
Peter McEvoy witnessed the Nicklaus phenomenon at the 1977 Open. McEvoy, a long hitter, banged one out there and looked around in vain for Nicklaus’ approval.
‘‘He teed up his ball and suddenly grew big. He’s not a particularly large man but he could get big on you. It was the first time I had ever seen it. There was a slower, bigger turn on the backswing than usual; his hands were much higher at the top of the swing and then suddenly he unleashed this phenomenal primeval power. He cut the corner of the sandhills and must have smashed it 50 yards past my supposedly huge drive.’’
McIlroy, of average build naturally, also has that ability to get big on you but, like Nicklaus, most of the time it is contained. Tiger is always reaching with the driver. That intimidatory compulsion to ‘‘kill’’ his opponents, which came from Tiger’s mother, is not there in Nicklaus and McIlroy.
It may seem odd to say about McIlroy, who spilt up with his fiancee and has bounced about managers but, like Nicklaus, he tends towards loyalty. He has had one caddie since turning pro and one coach since he was a kid. He was with Holly, his first girlfriend, for several years.
Nicklaus, who spent a lifetime with Grout, wrote, ‘‘Countless promising golfers I know have become hopelessly confused by switching from one teacher to another.’’
McIlroy said after winning the Wanamaker Trophy for the second time, ‘‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I’ve always been that way. I feel that the work that I put into my swing between the ages of 15 and 20 is going to see me through my career. I know the parameters of it and I know how to get it back on track.’’
Coach Michael Bannon says, ‘‘Rory owns his swing. He hits the shots.’’
Nicklaus has never understood why Woods felt a recurrent need to rebuild his swing but he recognises a fellow soul in McIlroy. It is not coincidence that McIlroy’s sudden push to the next level – although he has yet to win a major on firm ground – came after a two-hour chat with the Golden Bear. Nicklaus was puzzled why McIlroy would throw in the odd, atrocious round, and advised him not to be afraid of making swing adjustments on the course.
Tiger was Rory’s childhood hero but Nicklaus has become his role model. Nicklaus won 18 majors, finished second 19 times and third nine times, but he admits that when he was well past Bobby Jones’ record and heading towards the age of 40, ‘‘What was there to shoot for? I didn’t have any goals.’’
There was more to life than golf for Nicklaus. He was a decent man, able to console opponents like Mike Reid when shrouded in angry despair. He has since become a fine example for McIlroy, just as Jones was for Nicklaus.
Nicklaus wrote about Jones, ‘‘When Bob says something about your golf, you know there is substance and sincerity in it. Above and beyond this, you always feel that he understands what you are all about as a man as well as a golfer. This gives everything a deeper meaning and it sticks to your bones.’’
McIlroy knows just what Nicklaus means.