Golfer doesn’t shoot his age — he pummels it
On Aug. 24, 1990, his name appeared in the Akron Beacon Journal’s sports section for finishing third in an Old-time Athletes Association Golf Tournament. Thirty years later, he’s still playing. Three times a week. Eighteen holes each time.
Yes, 54 holes a week during the month he turns 98 years old.
A nine-hole round of golf? That’s for wimps.
World War II veteran Ted Gaynor, a former longtime advertising executive for Firestone Tire and Rubber, is feisty, funny and sharp as the tip of a metal golf spike.
“Even when I was younger, people made fun of my swing,” he says after climbing out of his cart on a smoldering September morning at Spring Hills Golf Club in the Akron suburb of New Franklin. “They said it looked like an octopus falling out of a tree.”
Asked to hit a few putts on the practice green for the benefit of a photographer, he threw down three balls and strokes them toward the hole. Puttted them again, then pulled another ball out of his pocket and dropped it at his feet. “Watch this.”
He stroked it toward the hole, but midway there, it stopped and began to roll back toward him, even though the green was perfectly flat.
The trick ball contains mercury, he explained, laughing.
When asked whether he can shoot his age — widely considered proof of golfing excellence — he grinned and reported that two weeks earlier, he had carded an 89.
“But that was from the senior citizen tees,” he added, as if that cheapens the accomplishment. Given that he will turn 98 on Tuesday, hitting from the senior tees seems more than fair.
Gaynor obviously isn’t smoking the ball the way he did in his prime, such as the day in 1977 when he carded a 73 at the South Course of Firestone Country Club, where he was a member for 30 years. Or the day he hit the green in two shots on the legendary 16th hole, known as “The Monster” because of its length.
“It was very dry that day,” he said. “I killed my tee shot. It ran all the way past the bunker. Then I killed my threewood. It skipped off the water [a small pond directly in front of the green], and I had about a 20-foot putt for an eagle.”
Did you make it? “I three-putted,” he responded instantly, howling with laughter.
Even after the passage of five decades, Gaynor remembers the smallest of details. During a 90-minute conversation in the clubhouse, he recounted tales of his career at Firestone ... his three years in the Army fighting Hitler's Nazis ... his experiences on golf courses across the country ... his family members ... and perhaps his favorite topic, his interaction with dozens of celebrities, a perk that came with his position as advertising director for one of the biggest tire companies during the era when Akron was the Rubber Capital of the World.
Ted Kennedy. Mario Andretti. Bobby Thompson. Gus Grissom. Earl Anthony. Eddie Rickenbacker. Two Miss Americas. Lou Groza. Jack Nicklaus (“I played with him twice, at Firestone in ’71 and in 1970 in Florida”).
Gaynor certainly didn’t grow up in fast company. Born and raised in Marietta, he lived through the Great Depression, and when his mother and father divorced, his remaining family had to go on welfare. His first job, at the age of 15, involved helping on a truck that took fresh produce from Marietta to Pittsburgh each day at 4 a.m.
After landing an entry-level job at Firestone in 1940, he went off to war, came back to Firestone and, after graduating from Kent State in 1951, started to work his way up the ladder. From a job in the print shop, which was run by the ad department, he started writing advertising copy, then was steadily promoted up to ad director. He retired in 1981.
Gaynor has been married for 74 years, and he and wife Hilda live in the house they bought in Barberton in 1953. They have three daughters and five grandchildren.