Page 83 - Golf World (February 2020)

Lee Trevino
trousered nearly $30,000, then won the 1968 US When Trevino
Open at Oak Hill, beating Jack Nicklaus by four, won The Open
matching the Golden Bear’s tournament record of for the first
275, becoming the first person to shoot four rounds in time at Royal
the 60s at America’s oldest tournament. “I’m gonna Birkdale in 1971
buy the Alamo and give it back to Mexico!” he he finally felt he
quipped. The cash was important, but the lifetime belonged and
exemption was priceless. Against all the odds, he was in. successfully
Of course, there’s in, and then there’s in. Golf has defended it at
never been a wholly progressive school, and as a Muirfield in ’72.
Mexican-American he was never likely to be welcomed
with open arms by the self-appointed cognoscenti.
During the Baltusrol tournament, he based himself at
a cheap motel nearby, and was refused entry to its
restaurant on the spurious basis of not owning a jacket
of requisite tidiness. He was forced to walk half a mile
each night, along a perilous highway, to the nearest
diner. Trevino, a friend to all until crossed, kept the
slight very much in mind. “Years later, the owner of
the motel wanted to have a big ceremony when I
returned, to present me with a jacket. I told him to
keep his damn jacket. ‘I have plenty now. Where were
you when I needed this?’” Bother was also inevitable at
Establishment Central, aka Augusta National. Trevino
did pretty well on his Masters debut in 1968. He was
two off the lead going into the final round, only to
capitulate with an 80, finishing in a tie for 40th. He
never seriously threatened to win the Tournament
again, although he would register top-10 finishes in
1975 and 1985, and in 1989, at the age of 49, shoot
an opening round of 67 to briefly lead the only
Major he’d never land. In retrospect, Trevino’s fade
and low ball flight were never going to work at
Augusta National. “The way he saw it,” reported
legendary Guardian reporter Peter Dobereiner, “he
was like a horse with shortened nearside legs being
asked to race on a right-handed track. It could not
be done.” Additionally, his Mexican lineage
‘after winning
the 1968 US OPen,
beating Jack by fOUr
StrOkeS, trevinO
annOUnced he’d
bUy the alamO
and give it back
tO mexic0’
ensured Trevino would never accept the antebellum
attitudes still very much in fashion at Augusta.
At this point in time, no black player had ever
been invited to the Masters; Trevino opted to give
the clubhouse a symbolic bodyswerve, signally
changing his shoes in the car park. He declined his
invitations to play in 1970 and 1971. “For me, the
first Major of the year is the US Open. I don’t count
the Masters.” By the time he missed the Tournament
for the second time, he’d not won on Tour for more
than a year, his marriage had fallen apart, his beloved
mother was dying of cancer, and he was hitting the
bottle to a career-bothering degree. Many wrote
off Trevino as a swinging supernova, burning
brightly but all too briefly, coming and going in the
blink of an eye.
Theimperialphase
At the Doral-Eastern Open in March 1971, a
concerned Jack Nicklaus approached the
struggling Trevino in the locker room and applied
somecutereversepsychologytolightafireinhisrival
and good friend’s belly. “I hope you go right on
clowning,” deadpanned the Golden Bear. “And I
hope you never learn how good you are. If you do,
the rest of us might just have to pack up and go
home!” Fire thus lit, cue Trevino’s imperial phase.
Within a couple of months he had won the
Tallahassee Open. Another month went by, and the
Memphis Classic was bagged. Three weeks later
came his famous snake-tossing turn,
where Trevino playfully tossed a rubber snake at
Nicklaus on the first tee. Eighteen play-off holes
later, the Mex had secured the proudest moment of
his career, defeating Jack by three
golfworldtop100.com | February 2020 Golf World 83