Worse still, J.C. no longer knew how far he could hit his eight-iron in the thin mountain air. On the 16th hole, just a few moments before, he had hit an eight-iron that never came down. It flew roughly 200 yards, winding up over the green.
But the shot on the 17th did not go far enough to clear the water in front of the green. Splash! Bogey.
J.C. was asked if he said anything to his caddie that could be printed, or rather if he had done anything to his caddie's head that might make it blow left to right, after the tee shot that caused him all the trouble in the first place.
J.C. said he just thanked him for his help.
On Saturday it continued to be an Open of unusual sounds. Trevino could rightfully claim that another kind of noise was perhaps responsible for the horrible double bogey he suffered on the 1st hole of the third round, a blow from which he never recovered. It was a disaster that sent him reeling to a 75 at a time when he surely looked like a man to be reckoned with.
Just as he slammed into his tee shot on No. 1, however, someone—it was never determined who—shouted, "Fore!" The someone was hollering at a spectator strolling across the fairway far down the hill. Trevino lunged at the ball as if he had been stabbed, and the ball hit a tree. From where he wound up, the best he could do was keep gouging at it until he had made a six.
For all of the outside influences that had an effect on this Open, however, nothing tortured the golfers like the Cherry Hills course itself, especially that 18th hole.
It tortured Andy North enough on Sunday, but he was up to the challenge. He claimed that he backed off his putt because he was waiting for a lull in the wind. Maybe so, maybe not. It would be more romantic to think he was waiting for a lull in his throat, this being the Open.
Still, he left the world with the kind of remark befitting a champion.
Before knocking in the putt, Andy North said to himself, "Listen, sport, show 'em what you're made of."