Champion Golfer of the Year

by Larry Baush

Champion Golfer of the Year Is Part 3 of the Summer of 1964 Series depicting that magical summer for Ken Venturi and Tony Lema. Part 1 depicts the friendship between both players and how a small Bay Area club manufacturer hit the big time as both players began playing well in 1964. Read it HERE. Part 2 covers Venturi’s amazing comeback win in the U.S. Open at Congressional Country Club. Read it HERE. Much of this article is reprinted from Uncorked, The Life and Times of Champagne Tony Lema available on Amazon HERE or get a signed copy HERE.

Tony Lema vacillated over whether to go to The Open Championship, what Americans call the British Open. The hot streak that he was on in the summer of 1964 made up his mind for him. He won the Thunderbird Classic, the Buick Open, and the Cleveland Open in the month of June. He was on a bona fide hot streak and he wanted a major championship in the worst way.

“I just want to see how they operate things over there,” Tony told reporters before his departure to play in the British Open.

He set out for Scotland and the madcap trip to The Open Championship took 16 hours to complete. High over the Atlantic, he sat in a jet airliner next to Fred Corcoran who attempted to explain the subtleties of the St. Andrews Old Course, often referred to as “the home of golf.” He spoke about the strategies required to negotiate a true Scottish links course with the diabolical winds that buffet the course and could change directions on a whim. He tried to prepare Tony for the strange bounces and unfamiliar shots he would face.

Tony listened patiently. At last, he turned his tall frame in his seat and fixed his keen green eyes on his business manager.

“Fred, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Just let me tee up the ball out there, that’s all I ask. I let them build the courses; I play ‘em.”

Upon arrival in St. Andrews, Tony immediately went to the Old Course for a look around. With three titles in the last month, the locals greeted him as the celebrity he had become. He wore the mantle of his stardom comfortably, which added to his popularity.

Before making the trip, Ken Venturi had given him some advice about playing a links-style course in front of the knowledgeable Scottish galleries.

“If you’re in a position to win, remember this one thing,” he counseled. “Don’t you ever hit a wedge at eighteen. You run it up the valley. Trust me. That’s the way to win in style and the crowd will really appreciate it.”

Jack Nicklaus, Doug Sanders, Doug Ford, Dean Beamen, Phil Rodgers, Johnny Bulla and Bill Johnston, in addition to Tony, made up the American contingent. All, but Bulla and Johnston, arrived late and would attempt to familiarize themselves with the ancient course quickly. The Scottish fans thought the Yanks were daft and did not give them much chance to win on a course that they believed required a lifetime to learn.

Waiting for Tony at the clubhouse was a tall, pink-cheek Scot. “I’m caddying for Tony Lema,” Tip Anderson, a 28-year-old caddy at St. Andrews told reporters. “Arnold Palmer told him to take me on. I’m sorry Mr. Palmer isn’t coming this time, but I’ll do my best for Mr. Lema.”

Tony Lema and Tip Anderson, the St. Andrews caddy who helped win the 1964 Open Championship

Anderson, a son of a former caddy at St. Andrews, knew the golf course as intimately as anyone did and that would serve Tony well. Tony could only complete ten holes of his first practice round but completed all eighteen holes in his second. Before he teed off for his practice round, Tony told the press, “I’ve heard so much about St. Andrews and golf in Britain that I just had to get over here. I’m not worried about getting here late. I’ll just have to meet the problems as they come up.”

After just 28 holes of practice, Tony pronounced himself ready for the tournament. Members of the press misinterpreted his confidence, and laid-back approach, as a prediction of victory.

“I never said I would win,” Tony complained to Corcoran after reading the newspapers. “Well, you have now,” replied his business manager.

The morning of the first round, as Tony walked onto the first tee, he spotted a coin in the grass. He picked it up, and looked around at the gallery. “Look at this,” he said holding the coin aloft. “I’m already the leading money winner in the British Open.”

The Scottish fans around the first tee took to him immediately and became full-fledged members of “Lema’s Legions.”

The famous winds at St. Andrews were evident on Wednesday during the first round. It picked up in ferocity as the day wore on so that players teeing off early had a distinct advantage over the late finishers. Tony drew an early tee time, finishing his round just as Nicklaus was teeing off in the late afternoon. On the par 4 eighteenth hole, Tony launched his drive to thirty yards shy of the green. He hit an indifferent pitch shot that ended up 50-feet beyond the hole, but made the long putt for a birdie and a 73. The crowd at the “Aberdeen Bench,” the free spectator section at the corner of the green, gave him a rousing ovation.

The wind played havoc with the scoring in the first round—especially in the afternoon. Irishman Christy O’Conner and French-Canadian Jean Garaialde captured the first round lead at 71. Tony’s 73 represented the lowest score of the eight Americans entered. Rodgers shot a 74, and Nicklaus, fighting the worst of the conditions, recorded a 76. Between Tony and the leaders were Harry Weetman of England and Bruce Devlin  of Australia both with 72s.

| “It was particularly tough around the loop.”

“I guess I was lucky to end up with a 76,” admitted Nicklaus. “I hit the ball as well, if not better, than on other previous visits to Britain, but I putted awful. My eyes kept watering, and sand kept blowing in my face. I thought the wind got stronger later in the day and it was particularly tough around the loop.”

The first six holes on the Old Course play away from the town of St. Andrews and the Royal and Ancient clubhouse. The seventh through the eleventh holes forms a loop before the course returns adjacent to the opening holes, back to the clubhouse. The wind off the North Sea can be particularly treacherous on the loop holes.

After his round Tony admitted to having difficulty with his chipping and pitching from inside 100-yards. He was attempting to make the transition from hitting high pitch shots to the bump-and-run shot played along the ground. The huge double greens on the Old Course were also difficult for him to figure out. Fourteen of the holes at St. Andrews play to large greens used for two separate holes. These large greens are equipped with two flagsticks. On the first nine, the hole locations are located on the east side of the green, while on the back nine, hole locations are on the west side. One of the many quirks that make the Old Course special is that the holes sharing a green add up to 18. The fifth and the thirteenth share a green, the seventh and eleventh also share a green, and so on.

“I finally put the wedge back in the bag and said goodbye,” Tony said. “Instead, I took a seven-iron and ran the ball to the hole.”

| “The biggest difficulty from the wind was in putting.”

“It’s a tough son of a gun, this course,” he said. “You can’t afford to go to sleep on a single shot. I thought I played pretty well, but it’s a fight at every hole not to lose a stroke. The biggest difficulty from the wind was in putting.” Asked which hole was the most difficult Tony quickly responded, “The first 18.” With his quick wit, he quickly won over the British press.

The morning of the second round, the wind continued to blow. As the day wore on, the breezes abated, giving the afternoon tee times an advantage.  Tony, teeing off in the afternoon, again avoided the worst of the gales. “I think the biggest thing that happened to Tony there was he had the weather on his side,” Nicklaus recalled decades later.

A three-putt on the fifth hole resulted in a bogey but Tony then started playing fantastic golf. He birdied the sixth and ninth holes and, with the wind at his back, drove the 312-yard par 4 twelfth hole. He calmly stroked in the 25-foot putt for an eagle two.

He added another birdie at the fourteenth hole and nearly added another at the eighteenth where his birdie putt lipped out. He shot a remarkable four-under 68, described by one scribe as “one of history’s great rounds over the St. Andrews Old Course.” He enjoyed a two-stroke lead over long-hitting Harry Weetman while Devlin and O’Conner sat one more stroke off his lead. Nicklaus shot a 74 that placed him nine-strokes off Tony’s lead.

In addition to Tony and Nicklaus, three of the other eight Americans in the field survived the cut to play in Friday’s 36-hole final round. The cut came at 153, Doug Ford sat on 149, Doug Sanders at 151, and Phil Rodgers made it on the number at 153. Johnny Bulla, well past his prime, missed with a 159, as did Billy Johnston at 158, and amateur, Deane Beaman, at 157.

The gallery and press reporting on the event could plainly see that the Old Course inspired Tony. The Scottish galleries were warming to him and his swashbuckling style of play. He began to sense that he was playing for something quite more than the $4,200 first place prize money. Returning to his hotel, Tony stretched out on a sofa in his room, a whisky in hand, and talked with John Lovesey of Sports Illustrated.

“That 68 I shot today was one of the finest rounds of golf I’ve ever shot, but I still don’t feel confident. This is the most challenging golf course I’ve ever been on,” he said. “You don’t dare go to sleep one moment. And to finish second won’t mean a thing. In the year 2064, when people pick up that record book, this is the kind of championship they will look up. You’ll be remembered only if you win.”

Later he tried to eat something for dinner but lacked an appetite because of his nervousness. He retired for the night early in an effort to get plenty of rest before the Friday finish—the most important 36 holes of his life.

The weather did an about-face, to sunny and mild, for the final rounds. The Open Championship featured the unique format of ending the tournament before the weekend for two reasons; Saturday was held in reserve for a possible 18-hole playoff if needed, and the Sunday Sabbath was strictly observed at St. Andrews with the course closed, allowing it “to rest.”

Satellite television coverage that brings The Open to viewers worldwide was still years in the future, so a Friday finish did not result in lost television revenue. Fans back in the states would have to wait a week to see any of the action when ABC aired a delayed broadcast as part of its “Wide World of Sports” show.

Tony’s lack of an appetite continued on Friday, he choked down a cup of coffee for his breakfast and prepared for his morning round. On the fifth tee, Tony learned that Nicklaus, playing many groups in front of him, was five-under.

“I heard that Jack was five-under-par and there I was, three-over after four holes,” Tony later said.

Jack Nicklaus (l) and Gary Player (r) at St. Andrews for the Open Championship in 1964

After a shaky start, he turned things around. He made par on the fifth and sixth holes and as he left the sixth tee, he passed Nicklaus going the opposite direction playing the thirteenth hole. The two players paused, looked at each other’s scores, on the walking scorer’s signs, and took stock of the situation. Nicklaus looked confident, fiercely so, and Tony admitted, “I didn’t feel so good.”

On the sixth, Tony managed a par and then caught a Scottish fire by running off five straight threes, including three birdies, on the seventh through the eleventh holes. Nicklaus finished his round with a course record tying 66 and then was astonished to learn that Tony was also on track to shoot a sub-70 round. At one point during the third round, Nicklaus was able to narrow the lead to a single stroke until Tony went on his amazing run of threes.

Tony finished his round by making a 20-foot birdie putt on the eighteenth hole to post a 68. He had successfully held off the Nicklaus challenge surrendering just two strokes from his nine-stroke lead. Nicklaus knew his chances were as good as gone once Tony posted his 68.

During the lunch break, Tony tried to eat, but found it difficult because of his anxious stomach. He was only able to get down a few bites of a cold salmon sandwich.

In the afternoon round, he played cautious and carefully. He two-putted the first three greens before three-putting the fourth for a bogey. Despite his slim chances, Nicklaus continued to apply pressure playing another great round in the afternoon.

Tony Lema drives off the 4th hole on The Old Course at St. Andrews during the 1964 Open Championship.

Tony pulled his drive on the fifth hole, but made a remarkable recovery shot with a three-wood to the front edge of the par 5 green. He two-putted for his birdie giving him the spark needed to ignite his round. He sank an 18-foot putt on the seventh and followed with a gutsy eight-footer for another par on the ninth. He played the tenth through the seventeenth holes conservatively. Nicklaus posted a 68 in the afternoon, but he knew it was too little, too late. Tony came to the eighteenth tee knowing that he could shoot a seven or less for the title.

| One of the prettiest pitch-and-run shots up through the Valley of Sin that finished 18-inches from the hole.

Tony completed his magical week in Scotland in style. He drove the ball down the middle of the fairway, just short of the famed Valley of Sin that fronts the green. The mob of fans followed Tony filling the fairway behind him, a custom of the British Open. He then executed one of the prettiest pitch-and-run shots up through the Valley of Sin that finished 18-inches from the hole.

The mob swarmed around, engulfing him, as they jostled up the fairway in search of prime viewing spots at the front of the green. Lost in the sea of humanity, he fought his way through the crowd finally emerging. He ran his hands through his hair, mussed in the struggle through the crowd, and acknowledged the applause from the huge gallery raising his club high above him.

He tapped-in his short birdie putt and flung his ball back into the boisterous crowd. His score of 279 matched the third lowest score in British Open history, just three strokes shy of Palmer’s record 276 at Royal Troon in 1962.

Tony Lema tosses his ball back into the crowd after sinking the winning putt at the 1964 Open Championship

Coming off the course, Tony asked for a “cold drink” and a police officer obliged handing him a bottle of English ale. The crowd around Tony started to laugh at the irony of Champagne Tony with beer. Before he took a big slug off the bottle, Tony laughed, too.

Tony changed into a sports coat, a black and pale blue thinly striped jacket similar to seersucker that he wore over his black sweater and pale blue turtleneck. With his dark grey slacks, he presented his usual style as he accepted the Claret Jug during the awards presentation.

Tony Lema cradles the Claret Jug after winning the 1964 Open Championship

In the days before the live television broadcasts, the champion had time to prepare for the trophy presentation and the result was far more eloquent than today. After taking possession of the historic Claret Jug trophy, Tony addressed the crowd on the porch of the Royal and Ancient Clubhouse. Throngs packed the grounds in front of the clubhouse, while members watched from behind the huge paned windows of the historic stone building.

“I want to thank the gallery for giving me the gas I needed out there today,” Tony acknowledged. “You helped me win it, when Jack started to pour it on. I felt that I owed it to myself as a golf professional, and one who loves the game, to visit where my great friend—the game of golf—was born.”

Tony spoke of the historical ramifications of his victory saying, “I have read Walter Hagen’s name and Gene Sarazen’s name and other great names on this cup. Now mine will be added. I feel inadequate. I certainly will be back next year to defend my title. I never thought I would find myself speechless, but I am as close to that as I’ve ever been.”

Servers popped the corks on magnums of champagne and all toasted his historic victory. A picture depicts him with a full champagne glass raised in a toast in his right hand with his left arm wrapped around the Claret Jug. In another photo, Tony cradles the trophy to his chest, as if it were a baby. His steely green eyes reveal the pride, and exhaustion, that he feels.

Tony paid Anderson, his caddy, $1,000, well above the going rate, which thoroughly won over the frugal Scots. The Scots fell in love with Tony, and his style, dubbing him the “Jolly Yank.”

Tony Lema does a champagne toast holding the Claret Jug

With cases of champagne in tow, Tony met with the press.

“The turning point was this morning when I was told Jack was five-under. Then I went and threw those five threes back at him and that’s when I won it. The British Open is one of the world’s four major tournaments and I’ll be back for it again, and again,” Tony promised reporters.

He described the mob scene on the final hole saying, “I got some bruises getting through there. But, I’m happy about those bruises.”

The conversation then focused on his caddy, Tip Anderson.

“Tip Anderson was at least 50 percent of this team and I reckon to say 51 percent would not be too far wrong,” Tony acknowledged. “Tip did it. He taught me the first lesson, to run seven-irons onto those tough greens. I put my wedge away at his advice and that’s the best thing I ever did.”

For his part, Anderson told reporters, “He’s a great player. His swing is about as sweet as Sam Snead’s. There’s very little difference in his game when you compare it to Mr. Palmer’s. He is more relaxed. When something goes wrong, like a six he took at the fifth hole Friday, he forgets immediately.”

Asked if Tony ignored any of his advice he answered, “No, sir. Once at the fourteenth, I told him to shoot for the spire of a church, and he drew the ball a bit and we didn’t come out of that as well as we might. But, he hit it where I told him every time.”

Tony and Corcoran spent a great deal of time with the press, drinking champagne and answering their many questions. Tony paid tribute to Nicklaus and his final round score that posed such a threat to Tony.

| “I knew he was the danger.”

“Jack was never far from my mind all day,” he said. “I knew he was the danger.”

Tony’s faith surfaced when he told reporters, “I got down on my knees last night and asked the good lord to give me this one.”

He spoke with pride about securing his place in golf history. “The money doesn’t mean anything. It’s the cup you want to win,” he declared.

A phone call from the states interrupted his revelry with the press. On the line was Ken Venturi.

“It’s from the lad who won that other Open Championship,” Tony informed the writers before departing to accept congratulations from his friend.

Tony and Corcoran finally made their exit from the pressroom and the hallowed grounds of St. Andrews. The next morning they departed for Paris with a few friends for a celebration in the famous city. They located a nice restaurant on the Left Bank, behind Notre Dame, and settled in for a night of merriment. Tony ordered champagne, but Moet was not on the wine list.

“Tony, we’ll have to pay for that,” Corcoran warned.

Tony never had to pay for Moet when dining out.

“Who cares?” Tony gleefully asked.

The group enjoyed a raucous meal before moving on to a nightclub—they called ahead to make certain that Moet was on the beverage list—and celebrated late into the night. The next morning, Tony and Corcoran awoke, a bit groggy from the night’s festivities and prepared for an important visit.

Corcoran was an old friend of the Duke of Windsor, the former King Edward VIII. Upon learning Corcoran and Tony were in Paris, the Duke invited them to his home at 4 rue du Champ d’Entrainement on the Nevilly-sur-Seine side of the Bois de Boulogne.

| “I understand you like champagne.”

“I understand you like champagne,” the Duke stated after greeting the two Americans. “Well, that’s what we’ll have.”

The small group split a bottle of champagne and talked golf for nearly an hour. As Tony and Corcoran bade the Duke farewell to prepare for their flight back to New York, the Duke presented Tony with a long white cigarette holder as a memento of the visit. Tony called the Duke “one of the most gracious and charming men I’ve ever met.”

Reporters met the new champion when he deplaned at Kennedy International Airport in New York.

Tony called his victory the “highest achievement of my career. It was my first major championship and I doubt if anything will ever surpass it. I wanted it badly and I was fortunate to get it. The prize money was worth only $4,200, but it is worth a million dollars in prestige.”

Tony described the playing conditions at The Open.

“This is really golf in its greatest and most invigorating form,” he stated. “I thought that I had seen winds before, but they have the patent on them over there.”

One of the first things he did once back in the states was to place a phone call to Arnold Palmer.

“Arnie, first I borrowed your putter and won three tournaments,” Tony began, “and last week I borrowed your caddy at St. Andrews and won the Open. What else have you got that I can borrow? …Like your bank book?”

He was now a major winner, a big star, and he was enjoying it.

Both Lema and Venturi played in the American Golf Classic in late August and Venturi kept his comeback of the Summer of ’64 alive by winning by five strokes over Mason Rudolph. The host course of the American Golf Classic was Firestone Golf Club in Akron, Ohio. Both players returned to Firestone in the middle of September to play in the third installment of the World Series of Golf, a televised unofficial tournament that featured the winners of the four major championships and a $50,000 first place prize. Arnold Palmer, the winner of the Masters and Bobby Nichols, the PGA Championship winner rounded out the field.

Tony Lema kisses the World Series of Golf $50,000 check

Lema won his biggest check of his professional career by beating Venturi by five strokes while Nichols finished third and Palmer fourth. The Summer of 1964 proved magical for both Ken Venturi who completed a comeback from obscurity and Tony Lema who won six times and entered the ranks of the superstars of the game.

Old Course hole illustrations courtesy of standrews.com.