"Even before '50 I'd always heard of Merion," Lloyd says. " Bobby Jones and all that. But all I did was hit a bunch of three-irons off the tee. What's so great about a golf course that keeps a three-iron in your hand off the tee?"
Mangrum was exaggerating, of course. Merion makes one reach for the three-iron when one gets sick of the rough that the driver keeps putting one in. The gamble is there on virtually every tee. Which again points up the charm of the place.
Whatever the mystique is, it even affects those manicuring the premises. Only the other day a Merion member stopped to observe a young man taking extreme care as he mowed one of the sacred putting surfaces. The member asked if the young man got any satisfaction out of helping prepare the course.
"I sure do," said the young man. "In fact, I'd do it for nothing."
Such is the lure of history and elegance. Such is Merion.