Hootie's Legacy

WHEN HOOTIE JOHNSON stepped down as chairman of Augusta National Golf Club last week, the reaction was entirely predictable: The lead to virtually every news story identified Johnson, 75, as the man who has so noisily defended the club's estrogen-free membership, as if that was all there was to his tenure. But whether you consider Johnson a sexist pig or a heroic champion of the Constitution, it's important to remember that Augusta's macho culture existed for 65 years before he became chairman, in 1998. Hootie didn't invent the club's membership practices, he chose not to alter them. The possibility of woman members at Augusta National is now a quagmire that belongs to new chairman Billy Payne, 58, the onetime CEO of the Atlanta Olympic committee. However that plays out, Johnson's legacy will live on in other ways.

Those who have followed his career know he is a radical at heart. Johnson served one term in the South Carolina state assembly in the 1960s and became a political kingmaker after leaving office. He was at the forefront of racial integration in politics and in business spheres. Johnson brought that vision and energy to his Augusta National chairmanship, transforming what is usually a caretaker position into an activist platform. Consider his position on the effects of technology. Johnson's tenure running the club--and by extension, the Masters--coincided with an era of tremendous increases in driving distance. While the sport's ruling bodies, the USGA and the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, were largely asleep at the wheel, Johnson aggressively positioned himself as a third-party commissioner with a single-issue obsession: trying to rein in the effects of high-tech equipment. His series of sweeping retrofits transformed Augusta National into a longer, tougher, more penal test. Purists howled that this was not the course Bobby Jones envisioned, but 350-yard drives were not commonplace in Jones's era. Johnson went even further than pushing back tee boxes; he introduced the possibility of a throttled-back Masters ball. However problematic the idea may be, it stimulated discussion, and since then the USGA has become more proactive in the technology versus tradition debate.

The ultimate irony is that while Johnson has been decried for having a 1950s view of the sexes, he shaped one of golf's most important issues of the 21st century--and single-handedly ensured that Augusta National remains a superb tournament venue, not a museum piece.