John Bohmann sat in the dining room of the Chaparral Country Club on the outskirts of Seguin, Texas with a Sunday-night-special fish fry spread out neglected before him. His wife, his brother-in-law and a friend were there, too, as the conversation turned to an encounter two weeks earlier.
"She was nice—short and cute," John Bohmann was saying, "and she had on a neat little golf dress. It was sort of a shock that she even talked to me really, but I was glad I knew what to tell her. I mean, she should know."
"Well, John, you never told us you met her," Barbra Bohmann said. "What was she like? How did she have her hair? Does she follow him all the time?"
"Hold on," said John. "I didn't really even meet her. She's just short and, well, like I told you—nice. I think sometimes wives are nicer than the players."
"That's what I'm worried about, John," said Barbra. "That nobody will talk to us on the tour."
"You don't have to worry about her. I was just surprised she didn't know about the cut."
"You're forgetting," said Barbra. "She hasn't had to worry for ages about him making the cut."
"Well, except that last year when he played so badly." John Bohmann looked out at the sun setting behind the Texas horizon. "Imagine," he said. "I had to tell Winnie Palmer who made the cut at the Masters."
It was not particularly surprising that John Bohmann would know all about the cut at the Masters last year. In 1969 he was particularly well informed on the subject.
Bohmann was a student at Texas Lutheran College in Seguin, where Elton Bohmann, his father, is chairman of the business department and where John studied accounting and played varsity basketball. For half his 22 years he had also been playing golf.