Double, Double Toil And Trouble

Because it is set up as a pro-am, the Crosby field is bulky and has to play on three different courses the first three days. This means an element of fortune enters into the tournament and an element of deception. The three courses, in ascending order of difficulty, are Monterey Peninsula Country Club, Cypress Point and Pebble Beach. A leader on the first day is not really a leader at all if he happens to have played the easiest course. In addition, it is helpful to play the hardest course when the weather is relatively amiable, and vice versa. Casper and Lema were actually off to a good start on Thursday when they shot 70 and 71 respectively at Cypress Point, as were Nicklaus (72) and Palmer (71), even though they all were well behind the leaders.

Thursday offered a major shock in the Crosby tradition, this one the performance of Ken Venturi. Playing Cypress Point, a course he has known for years and has handled as if it were part of his own backyard, Venturi came in with a hapless 81. His first shot of the day was a drive out of bounds that sliced so monumentally it cleared the wide expanse of the adjoining practice area. He wound up with a 7 on that par-4 hole and immediately followed it with a double-bogey 7 on the 2nd. But it was not a totally lost day for Ken. His amateur partner was a San Francisco disc jockey named Jim Lange. While Venturi was chasing his ball from tree to trap, Lange, who likes to describe himself to his rock-'n'-roll followers as Captain Showbiz, was firing enough birdies to make his 11-stroke handicap look as distinctive as his spivish black-and-white-checked peg-leg slacks. On 11 of the 18 holes, Lange was able to help the team total by anywhere from one to four strokes, giving them a best-ball total of 61, a handy 20 strokes better than Venturi's individual score and good enough to lead that section of the tournament. Lange's extraordinary round made it possible for Ken to win the daily prize of $1,000 that was awarded to the professional half of the team with the low best-ball score.

There was a disturbing reason for Venturi's catastrophic performance. As long as two months ago there were reports that he was suffering from a circulatory ailment in his hands, but he stoutly denied it. Actually, he thought at the time that the peeling skin on his fingers was due to some allergy, and he tried taking shots for the malady. He did not improve, however, so he visited Dr. Robert Woods, the same man who had treated the dead finger of Dodger Pitcher Sandy Koufax two years ago. Woods diagnosed the trouble as something called Raynaud's phenomenon, which disrupts normal arterial circulation. He prescribed two drugs to expand the arteries and another to thin the blood. The trouble cleared up quickly in Venturi's left hand, but the third and fourth lingers of his right hand are still numb and practically useless.

Venturi had been advised by his doctor to quit golf until his hands were cured, but Ken is enormously conscientious about his commitments, especially since he has only recently recovered from his long slump. So he played at Los Angeles, where he tied for 60th and didn't make a sou, and he came to the Crosby. "But when this tournament is over, I'm going to put the clubs away," he said. "I'm going to do what the doctor tells me. There is no point in playing this way. I have no feel for the club." Venturi unwound his fingers from the hand warmer he had been carrying in his hip pocket and said, "Here, feel this finger." It was cold. When he hits a shot, the fingers turn as white as chalk, and after he plays a few holes in the chilly northern California air they become blue. Venturi's troubles turned Thursday bleak.

Friday was an ebullient day—at least for Tony Lema. Playing Monterey, he birdied six of the first nine holes, finished with a 65 and earned a pleasant three-stroke lead. But he knows the Crosby. "I don't think anybody leads this tournament until everyone has played each of the three courses," he said. "Don't forget, I haven't played Pebble Beach yet. I am just momentarily treading water as the leader." How true.

If ever a day displayed what makes the Crosby memorable, it was Saturday. Gale, storm, disaster, warned the weatherman, so, naturally, morning arrived benign as a favorite uncle. Over on the easy Monterey course a tour rookie from Wichita Falls, Texas named Rocky Thompson teed off early with the hope, he later explained, of maybe shooting a 65 and gaining some ground on the 32 players ahead of him in the standings. Instead he came in with a so-what 68 and repaired to the clubhouse for lunch. About this time, when a lot of the big names were only on the first nine of Pebble Beach and Cypress Point, the real weather arrived, worse late than never. The wind mounted to 30 knots, 40 knots, 50 knots. Seagulls and ducks descended into fairways because they could not fly, and neither could golf balls. Soon the situation degenerated to a Dunkirk of pro golf: get off the beach with what you can save.

A good measure of the wind was the clubs that the pros had to use. The 7th hole at Pebble Beach is a little 110-yard wedge shot. On Saturday afternoon Al Mengert made a hole in one there—by hitting a full three-iron. Playing against the wind at Cypress Point, Paul Harney, one of the very long hitters, failed to reach the green at the 367-yard 17th hole with two full driver shots. On the same hole Mason Rudolph had to use a driver, a three-wood and a firm eight-iron, and he hit them all well. At the 222-yard 16th at Cypress, George Bayer used a one-iron to get across the water the safe way—normally a five-iron shot. At the 218-yard 17th at Pebble Beach, powerful Mike Souchak could not even reach the bunker in front of the green with a driver, a distance of no more than 190 yards.

"It was absolutely the worst conditions I've played under since St. Andrews last year and that was an easier course," said an unebullient Tony Lema after finishing with a 79. Only the strongest and smartest of golfers had any hope of breaking 80 once the wind was up, and not many did. Thanks to his birdie at the 18th, Palmer made 77 and survived the cut by a bare two strokes. (Since he shot an 80 the next day, he might have spared himself the trouble.) Casper, playing in the wind, had a 76; Nicklaus' great strength helped him salvage a 77; Souchak finished in the dark with a 76—all brilliant rounds considering the conditions.

When this savage day was done the drenched spectators stared in disbelief at the scoreboard. The second-day leaders had been decimated: Charlie Sifford—83; Bill Collins—78; Dave Ragan—81; Bob Goalby—79; Don January—88; Doug Sanders—82; Bill Ogden—79. PGA champion Bobby Nichols turned in a 90. Of those who now stood among the first six, only Lema and Bruce Crampton, an Australian who has become a regular on the U.S. tour, had played at Pebble Beach, and Crampton had been fortunate enough to tee off early. His 73 put him in a tie for fourth place at even-par 215.

But who was the Crosby leader by nightfall Saturday? Why, it was a stunned Rocky Thompson, whose 212 was two strokes ahead of anybody else. Tournament officials had quite a time finding Rocky for the traditional press conference. They finally located him gawking at the scoreboard. "I didn't even make the golf team at the University of Houston," he told reporters.