A Bonny Victory

As long as a man has to go for a walk on a golf course, there is hardly a better place than straight up the last fairway at St. Andrews, where one is surrounded by 500 years of history and embraced by the buildings of the old town itself. It is especially wonderful if you do it the way Jack Nicklaus does. Nicklaus made the walk again last week with 30,000 warmly sentimental Scots creating enough noise to have drowned out the roar of a squall howling in off the North Sea.

The scene, in fact, would have made a nice Christmas card for Jack to send out this year. After all of the crazy things that had gone on for four rounds, involving golfers from a grand assortment of nations, it came down to Nicklaus winning another British Open, another major championship. For those who are counting, it was his third British Open and major victory No. 17, which can now be filed away with the others: the five Masters, the four National PGAs, the three U.S. Opens and the two U.S. Amateurs.

Not many of those victories could have been sweeter than this one, however, for Nicklaus is 38. He had gone nearly three years without winning a big one, and many of his fellow pros were starting to question whether he might ever win another. It seemed possible that Jack had reached a stage in his career where he could no longer produce the clutch shot in a major tournament or sink the critical putt. Last year, for example, Nicklaus stood on the 71st tee tied for the lead in three different major championships—the Masters, the British Open and the PGA—and lost all of them.

In last Saturday's final round at St. Andrews, Jack stood on the 70th tee and found himself staring rather unbelievingly at a chap named Simon Owen. This was one of the most important sporting' events in the world, and Simon Owen of New Zealand was suddenly leading it by one stroke over Jack Nicklaus with only three holes to play. It was precisely at this moment that Jack Nicklaus became the Jack Nicklaus of his previous years, and Simon Owen became the Simon Owen whose last accomplishment as a pro golfer was winning the 36-hole Skol-Lager individual title in 1976 at an event mostly familiar to the Scottish waiters and chambermaids at Gleneagles, where it was played.

All sorts of near immortals had been in contention for this British Open, including a group of talented Americans led by Tom Watson and Ben Crenshaw, each of whom shared the lead at one time or another. But in the last round Watson faded sadly and Crenshaw stumbled, and it was Owen, of all people, who hung around to annoy Nicklaus. Now, after chipping in for a birdie from 25 yards away on the 15th hole, Owen was in the lead and Nicklaus was thinking that maybe the gods were going to deal him another disappointment despite the splendid golf he had played throughout the tournament.

There on the 16th tee, Jack thought of Turnberry last year when Tom Watson had rolled in a birdie from across the 15th green, which was the blow that sent him toward defeat in their memorable duel. "I've been here before," Nicklaus said to himself.

Owen hadn't. And that probably was what accounted for his second shot on the 16th, which he hit clean over the green, putting himself in a place where the best he could hope for was a bogey 5. For his second shot, Nicklaus struck one of those nine-irons of his that seem to be inhaled by the flagstick. It got to about six feet from the pin.

The situation was obvious. If Jack could make one of those putts he had been missing earlier in the week, there would be a two-stroke swing on the scoreboard, and he would be the leader with the toughest hole known to mankind—the 17th at St. Andrews, the Road Hole—coming up to face the two of them.

Who would you want at the Road Hole, Jack Nicklaus or Simon Owen?

Nicklaus did, in fact, nail the birdie putt at the 16th. drilling the ball into the heart of the cup. Just like the old days. It was the putt he needed at the time he needed it.