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Winning Was Her Just Dessert
Barry McDermott
April 11, 1983
Amy Alcott's Dinah Shore victory was her third in a major and her first step toward owning a sweet shop
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April 11, 1983

Winning Was Her Just Dessert

Amy Alcott's Dinah Shore victory was her third in a major and her first step toward owning a sweet shop

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The erstwhile short-order cook, Amy Alcott, was standing on the practice green at the Mission Hills Country Club Saturday evening, staring up the Coachella Valley at the setting sun and the swirling dust blown by a rising wind. "The weather's changing," said Alcott, trying to keep the lilt out of her voice. Tomorrow would be another day, a working girl's kind of day, when you could tug at your visor, put your nose to the grindstone and go win $55,000.

Alcott scoots the ball just above the ground, about cactus high, and on Sunday, with the wind howling through the condos of Palm Springs and the sand billowing, she played a thoughtful, patient even-par round of 72 for a 282 total that brought her the Nabisco Dinah Shore Invitational championship.

This was Alcott's third major title—she had won the 1979 Peter Jackson Classic and the 1980 U.S. Women's Open—which puts her only one behind Donna Caponi and Sandra Haynie among active players, and the victory was accomplished in a style uniquely hers. She hung in there, kept plugging away with her short, choppy swing and won by two strokes over Beth Daniel and Kathy Whitworth, about the best of the young and the old in women's golf.

The Dinah Shore has a $400,000 purse, richest on the circuit, and the winner's slice belonged to the 26-year-old Daniel for most of the week. She opened with two 69s, and by the back nine Saturday she seemed to be uncatchable—until she double-bogeyed the par-5 18th by going into the water that guards the green.

Such is Daniel's talent that she spends as much time explaining how she loses as how she wins. She has yet to win a major, although she had her chances to do so at the previous four, and she still carried a two-stroke lead into the final round. But her game is built on rhythm and timing, and in the 40-to 50-mile-per-hour winds that raked the course on Sunday, her long, upright swing was all jerks and sways, instead of slow dancing.

The tournament turned around for Daniel on the 5th, 6th and 7th holes when she visited the water twice and had two double bogeys and a bogey. "If it wasn't the end, it was close to it," Daniel said after struggling home with a 76.

Whitworth, meanwhile, 43 and a pro since 1959, was going after her 85th victory, which would have nudged her past Sam Snead for the most Tour wins by any golfer. But at every opening she closed the door on herself with a bogey. She shot 72 and tied Daniel for second, which was worth $30,845 apiece.

Alcott once described her flamboyant, enthusiastic style as "hitch up my girdle and let it rip." On Sunday she got her teeth into the lead for good on the 12th hole when she hit a five-iron out of a fairway bunker and sank an eight-foot birdie putt while the opposition was making bogeys. From then on, with her fans calling out "Hold the mayo," a reference to her off season job in a Los Angeles sandwich shop, Alcott mimicked her dog, Mactavish, a somewhat arrogant Scottish Terrier. "He knows he's as good as anybody," she says. "He struts his stuff."

The winner put on one final display of shotmaking, on the 15th hole. She drove into the rough. Between her and the green were four trees and two sand traps. Alcott aimed 90 yards to the right and hit a wild, windblown hook. The ball ended up 12 feet from the cup. Mactavish would have loved it.

There's always as much happening off the course at the Dinah Shore as on it, and this year brought an announcement of note: Nancy Lopez revealed that she is two months pregnant. Maybe you missed her divorce from Tim Melton and her marriage to Ray Knight, the Houston Astros' first baseman. There were the usual parties and pro-am high jinks. And there were Aerobics by Astrid, the early-morning workout for the spouses back at the Spa Hotel, plus Harpo, a clown with a lime-green fright wig who never talks and Mr. Peanut, a Nabisco shill who walked around the grounds and also never speaks. Rumor had it that Harpo and Mr. Peanut were one and the same because—Lois Lane, check it out—they never appeared together, but one day Harpo emerged from a phone booth to deny it, emphatically wagging his green head no.

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