Liege Lord Of Golf

Other changes have included money and organization. Total purses used to be counted in sixpence, but in six years prize money at the Open has increased practically fourfold, and last week Jacklin deposited well over $10,000 in U.S. green. That is still hardly worth the U.S. pro's time and effort, what with the breaking-up of his summer pace, the two tour tournaments he misses, the adjustment to the smaller British ball (and then back again), the loss of sleep and, in most cases, loss of confidence, too, as he stumbles through the cabbage and over the railroad trestles. "This trip gets expensive," said Gardner Dickinson, who was appearing in his first British Open. "If you don't win the thing, you ask yourself what the hell you were doing here."

Dickinson came, along with such other first-timers as Miller Barber, Lee Trevino and Raymond Floyd, simply because the tournament is one of the two or three best in all of golf, an exquisitely produced event that has recently come under the direction and charm of Keith McKenzie, the new executive secretary of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club. McKenzie made a special trip to the Crosby at Pebble Beach in a worthy and successful attempt at luring more U.S. pros to England. And he offered several innovations at Royal Lytham, including scoreboards at every hole, bleachers (seating a total of 10,000) at every green and computerized leader boards all over the course.

A major part of the American contingent, which was felt to be the strongest in years, was quartered for the Open at the Imperial Hotel in nearby Blackpool. This is an expansive, gabled structure reminiscent of a mausoleum in atmosphere—and it conforms nicely to the surroundings. Blackpool has long been the seaside vacation spot of Britain's lower classes, but lately it has gone to seed. Visitors amuse themselves with rides on the Ferris wheel, trips to the casinos and views of the Tower of Blackpool, a rusty derrick where, inside, one may take a cup of tea. In America, the town would be called Vegas Coney.

American pros staying there, it must be confessed, displayed little more inspiration than the town, what with Dickinson missing the cut, and people like Trevino finishing tied for 33rd, Casper 24th and Moody 15th. It was left to Davis Love, a barely known club pro from Atlanta who had to drive an hour to the course each day from the village of Little Thornton, to tie Nicklaus for sixth and provide both a lot of goodwill and a touch of sparkle. "Some people want to win all the major championships, I just want to play in all of them," he told the pleased British.

The Open's first two days saw two spectacular rounds, one by Charles and one by O'Connor, that sent both men into lofty positions. Charles' opening-day 66 earned a cheer of "well done, Robert" from Sean Connery, leaning out the clubhouse window, and was a tribute to the lanky New Zealander's putting stroke, which is probably the best in the game.

Along toward 8 p.m. of the following day O'Connor bounded home with as improbable a 65 as has ever been seen in a major championship. The 44-year-old Christy, a Dublin veteran of as many drinking bouts and clubhouse scuffles as he is of British tournaments, hit but five fairways and used only 25 putts—10 on the back nine—in a round that had Byron Nelson shaking his head. "Most fantastic thing I've ever seen," he said. "The man should have had 74."

Was it the luck of the Irish? Christy was asked by an incautious Australian. "Ye can put it down if ye like," said O'Connor, irritated. "But if ye go back through the years, ye'll find Aye haven't had myself much luck."

Eoin McQuillan, an Irish journalist from Belfast, was a bit put out himself by the talk of O'Connor's drinking prowess. "These local chaps don't put it in perspective. Damn fools," he said. "An Englishman takes six pints of an evening and he thinks it's a damn blast-out. An Irishman takes that much, for God's sake, he's but washing his teeth."

Friday was the day defending champion Gary Player, among others, went out of the tournament, and Nicklaus (with a 68) and Roberto De Vicenzo (66) got back in. Australia's Peter Thomson, a five-time winner who was both playing in and covering the event for the Melbourne Age, filed overnight that he, too, was very much in contention, just three strokes off Jacklin's lead with one round to go.

The next morning Pat Ward-Thomas, the esteemed golf writer of The Guardian, talked of the "fascinating" pressure, and said, "You know, the bloody Jacklin will be watched closely by 50 million British wishing to heaven that he doesn't turn into an absolute jelly."