A Delightful Brawl In A Gentleman's Game

Match-play golf, where only the holes count and not the total number of strokes, was dropped from the U.S. pro circuit ten years ago and maybe it is a good thing that it was, for in an era of big money and terrific pressure, where the coddled stars of the pro tour are often as temperamental as coloraturas, the swinging might become a right chop to the chin instead of a feathered seven-iron to the flagstick.

Last week at the fourth annual Piccadilly World Match Play Tournament, held on the West Course of the Went-worth Club just south of London, eight of the world's best professionals butted well-groomed and well-tanned heads together in a knockout tournament that is rapidly becoming one of the most intriguing golf events of the year. When it was over, two grimly classical grudge matches had been fought out over the club's green, hilly, tree-lined acres, and Arnold Palmer, by defeating Australia's Peter Thomson on the last hole of their 36-hole final, had brought abounding joy to the hearts of the U.S. touring pros.

On the U.S. tournament tour, Thomson, a curly-haired, diffident, intelligent fellow from Melbourne, is about as popular as a shank or a three-putt green. At 38, Thomson is a masterful golfing technician who can hit a ball any way he wants to except far. He has won the British Open five times but, after 17 years of playing intermittently in the U.S., the only Stateside title he has for his efforts is the Texas International Open. Somewhat bewildered by his lack of U.S. success, he has left behind him a collection of unflattering remarks about the crude power game so popular in America and the long, heavily watered golf courses that nurture it.

Much of this conflict came to a barb-filled climax at the Alcan golf tournament at St. Andrews two weeks ago. There Thomson, playing simultaneously in a lesser event, finished first with a score of 281 that was two shots lower than that posted by Gay Brewer and Bill Casper, who tied for first in the $129,000 Golfer of the Year tournament.

"I find it a little embarrassing to have shot the low score with all these Golfers of the Year here," said Thomson at the closing ceremonies. "Maybe I should just be called the Golfer of the Week."

Thomson's words had hardly drifted off in the breeze from St. Andrews Bay before Mason Rudolph grabbed the microphone and pointedly said: "I enjoyed the golf Peter Thomson played this week. I've been on the tour for nine years, and this was the first time I've had the pleasure of seeing him win a tournament." Parry, thrust and ouch.

The following week at Wentworth, Thomson and three Americans, Palmer, Casper and Brewer, were included in the World Match Play field of eight and sparks were sure to fly as often as golf shots. But Thomson versus the United States was a confrontation that had to wait until the finals. First there was a wonderfully tense clash of egos between Brewer and South Africa's Gary Player to be settled.

After winning the Masters last April, Brewer stated—as others before him have done—that there is no such thing as the Big Three (Palmer, Nicklaus, Player), a remark that soon became translated around the golfing world as "Who's Gary Player?"

The black hairs on the back of Player's muscular neck bristled.

"Yes, he said those things, but who am I to say anything," said Player, who at 31 has won all four of golf's major titles. "I believe in humility, that two wrongs don't make a right. I believe in letting your clubs do the talking."