By this time last year Crampton had already won twice and had earned some $90,000. He was last spring's Johnny Miller. He showed up at the Heritage slightly worried, although he had finished sixth in the Citrus Open and third at Doral in previous weeks. "A few weeks ago I was searching for something mechanically wrong with my swing," said the Australian. "Now I've just changed the rhythm back to what it was. I'm hitting the shots now." Then he went out and led the tournament for the first 12 holes on Thursday, ran into a double bogey on the 13th, bogeyed the 17th and 18th holes for a disappointing 71 and spent the rest of the week trying to outguess Harbour Town.
Weiskopf's malady was different. Last summer's Miller, he strained a tendon at the base of his left thumb in a practice round before the Phoenix Open when he hit a three-wood shot. "I can't practice," he said. "I've hit some shots that I haven't hit in years, just terrible golf shots, shots that I didn't think I was capable of hitting." To cure the ailment, he has seen three doctors and is taking two different types of medication as well as an occasional cortisone shot. He belongs in the training room. "I feel like a guy with a big elastic band tied to his back," said Weiskopf ruefully. "I keep trying to get going but I'm barely moving." At the Heritage, however, he showed signs of recovery, finishing tied for sixth.
Trevino spent the week in El Paso, doing some pleasure boating, playing with his six-month-old baby and making a few commercials. He has not won a tournament in a year and there are indications his problems may be deeper than Crampton's or Weiskopf's.
"I did a helluva job with this brown little body," he said, sounding like a man on the verge of retirement. "I'm not going to abuse it anymore." Meaning he plans to play less, concentrating on the major championships.
Putting has been Trevino's trouble. At February's Los Angeles Open he admitted to having the yips. "My head tells me to bring the blade back but my hands won't let me," he said. And last week he said, "The fact that I haven't putted well has put tremendous pressure on my secondary shots, my irons. I'm afraid if I don't put the ball within 15 feet of the pin, I'll three-putt."
Miller, meanwhile, was a man on his way to a victory. Properly refreshed after a three-week rest that he used to shake a tenacious cold, he ensconced himself at nearby Palmetto Dunes, a resort he represents. There his wife Linda cooked dinner each evening while he chipped and putted before a gallery of his son John and daughter Kelly or fished local ponds. Miller was bubbling. "My iron game is out of sight," he said one evening. "My average iron is about five feet off line. If I get the distance down, the shot is really stiff. I used to switch clubs every two or three weeks like Arnold Palmer and always fiddle with my swing. Now I've got everything grooved. I guess I'm more professional." Then Miller smiled. Right now golf is a game and life is sweet. Crampton may have a crick in his swing, Weiskopf a twinge in his thumb, Trevino the yips, but Johnny Miller is giving the rest of the pro golfers a pain in the neck. He is winning, laughing, blond and beautiful.