On The Winter Tour With Harry Sprague

I told Jimmy not to think about it and I could fix him up in a jiffy like I did Mr. Callahan last summer who had the same kind of slice. "Harry," Jimmy says to me, "It's a shame Snead and Hogan are not on the tour 'cause they been looking for years for someone to straighten them out on the golf swing." When the tour goes through Texas maybe I will get the time to go up to Fort Worth and check Ben's swing for him which I would be glad to do for an old buddy.

What your boy can't understand is why I'm not scoring out here, Mr. Parmenter. It's got to be the tracks. El Centro where we enlisted men had a little tournament this week is just a desert. Tijuana down in Mexico where we played the week before has fairways with no clover in them at all. Pebble and Cypress where we played before that are trick tracks. If you hit the ball a ton like I was there, you get penalized where a short hitter like Middlecoff can't reach the ocean. I was paired with Cary one round and I outdrove him on every hole including the short ones, but he was putting and I wasn't so he gets a 69 and I get an 80, which is backwards. Cary told me after the round I was trying to hit the ball too hard. Now I don't like to accuse a colleague pro of throwing sour grapes but you probably saw in the papers that right after he played with me in the Crosby, Middlecoff left the tour and went back to his club in Florida which is more than a coincidence, hey?

I expect to break into the money in a big way at Phoenix next week. All your boy needs is a couple of putts. A little more female companionship wouldn't do me any harm neither but we keep moving like gypsies and when we hit the new towns the name pros get all the name women and before a guy can get his bearings we move on again.
Yours truly
Harry Sprague

Feb. 1, 1958
Mr. Walt Parmenter
Parmenter Enterprises Co.
148 So. Main Street
Micawba, Mass.
Dear Mr. Parmenter,
I am dictating this letter from Tucson which is also in Arizona which as far as I can see is just one big sand-trap or beach. There are plenty of public stenographers in this town because lots of people come out here to retire among which is a nice-looking lady name of Rhoda Richards who is taking my dictation. She came out here 20 years ago and she is a real veteran, if you follow my drift.

How come I am here in Tucson when the tournament is still going in Phoenix? Well, I ran into some tough breaks in Phoenix, Mr. Parmenter, and missed the cut by two strokes, meaning that my total for the first two rounds was two shots too high to get me into the low sixty scores and ties who qualify for the last two rounds. I think I am maybe spending too much time helping the other pros instead of working on my own game. A good sample of this is Palm Springs and Phoenix where I gave Ken Venturi some tips on competition psychology and, as you read in the papers, Venturi steps right out after that and wins both tournaments, though his game still needs an awful lot of polishing. Where I had my tough break at Phoenix is that a terrific looking blonde with one of those brown suntans came out to watch me and Ford and Finsterwald finish our second round. I introduced myself very politely and I bet her, just to make some conversation, I would get three birds on the last three holes. I guess I gambled too much going after those birds 'cause I finish boge, boge, double boge and that killed me. I learned a lesson from this like you learn on the tour which is this: You have got to putt, old buddy, or you're dead.

I drove down here from Phoenix last night to get used to the track where we fellows who have to qualify in a qualifying round even to get into the Tucson Open qualify on Tuesday. I am now traveling with two other young colleague pros, a great little putter from Indiana name of Pete Grissom and a fellow from Seattle name of Albie Vickary who is a hell of a scrambler. They both made the cut at Phoenix so I took off in the car and they will pick up rides and meet me here Sunday night at the Gila Monster Motel. Vickary, Grissom, and myself have formed a syndicate and we will be splitting our prize money up three ways. I don't know if this is such a smart move for me and I would appreciate your idea about it since you are a real pro with finances.

This reminds me, Mr. Parmenter, to bring up something that's been on my mind for some time now, if you don't mind. Pete, Albie, and a lot of the other pros including the old guys tell me that my finances arrangements with you aren't a fair shake. They say that they never heard of any backer making a deal where he pays a pro's expenses on the winter tour and in return the pro works for him and runs his driving range from April to November for no salary. I told them under our arrangement I get to keep two-thirds of what I make on the lessons I give at the range and that I gave many numerous lessons, but they still say you are giving me less money than what I should be paid for it. I explained that you are a big man in Micawba and got a connection with many enterprises, but all they say about this is it figures. So I will be looking forward to hear what you say about this.

Well, Mr. Parmenter, I'm going out to the practice range now seeing that I never did stir up an acquaintanceship with that blonde with the sun-tan, so from now on I'll be playing a more conservative type golf.
Yours truly
Harry Sprague

Feb. 15, 1958
Mr. Walt Parmenter
Parmenter Enterprises Co.
148 So. Main St.
Micawba, Mass.
Dear Mr. Parmenter,
I'm going to make this a short letter because I need to get out on the course and get some practicing in. I am giving the dictation in Houston, Texas, to a nice-looking lady name of Sue Atherton who, she tells me, is a native of Houston, Texas, and was living here when it was no more an acropolis than Micawba, Mass., or whatever is the foreign name for a city with lots of tall buildings and women's clothes stores. As is getting to be my usual, I arrived in this next town on the tour a couple of days before the rest of my colleague pros who made the cut at San Anton' and are still there playing the third round of the Texas Open today. That was where the roof really hit me, Mr. Parmenter. If it wasn't bad enough not making the cut in any tournament for a month now, at San Anton' I didn't even qualify in the qualifying round to get into the tournament. Those Scotchmen are right when they say this is a humble game because I never felt punker in my life.

I don't know if I told you I am taking my whole swing apart which is why I am doing so much practicing on the practice tee. My two old buddies, Albie Vickary and Pete Grissom, been telling me a long time now I don't get my left hand on the club correctly and which is why I am hitting from the top all right side and spraying my shots all over the place. Demaret and some of the other veteran pros like Barber and Boros also have been trying to show me changes I ought to make, like the lining up the shot, but for a while I just thought they were only trying to throw me off my game because this is for real bucks out here. I am convinced now they were aiming to do me a good turn all along, and I'm working on a new grip and a whole different swing and action which nobody perfects overnight even if I am a natural athlete. So I have decided not to go up to Fort Worth. Hogan will just have to work on his own game best he can himself till I get going again.