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THE BOGEY THAT WON THE OPEN
Dan Jenkins
June 26, 1978
Andy North knew he didn't need par on the awesome 18th. One over would suffice—and two high-pressure shots got it for him
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June 26, 1978

The Bogey That Won The Open

Andy North knew he didn't need par on the awesome 18th. One over would suffice—and two high-pressure shots got it for him

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"Whoever it was did it on purpose," said Bean.

No one got the name of the song on the car radio, but Bean said it wasn't Sleepy Lagoon.

What happened to Snead was even more bizarre. First of all, J.C. had made himself something of a celebrity on Thursday by refusing to come to the press tent for interviews after his opening 70, which had left him tied for second along with North and Clampett. J. C. Snead doesn't like press rooms, and he had not been near one on the tour for quite' a while. J.C. thinks the people in press rooms don't like him, write about him as if he were dumb and make fun of his plantation hats.

So on Thursday afternoon a voice came over the loudspeaker in the tent saying, " J. C. Snead has finished with a one-under 70. He was invited to the press tent but he has declined."

At which point about 100 writers applauded.

But now it was Friday and J.C. was very much in the Open, and he lifted his boycott and granted all the interviews anyone wanted. He proved that he should hang around more often, for J.C. is wonderful "copy," as they say.

He revealed how his caddie had cost him a stroke, maybe two, on the same 17th hole where Bean heard the sound of music.

Snead had been wearing out his one-iron off the tees and doing a splendid job of avoiding the brutal rough. But after he had addressed his one-iron on the 17th tee, and just as he took it back, he heard a shout.

Of all things, it was the voice of his own caddie, trying to be helpful. With J.C. already into his windup and unable to stop, the caddie hollered, "Wind's blowing left to right."

J.C., of course, pulled his tee shot wildly into the left rough, and was forced to hack it out with an eight-iron, which still left him an eight-iron away from the dangerous green to which he should normally have been hitting a pitching wedge and contemplating a birdie.

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