Chapter 20 | Augusta
An excerpt from the book, "Uncorked, The Life and Times of Champagne Tony Lema"
During Masters week, I like to highlight the chapter from my book that details the 1963 Masters. Tony Lema came so close to winning and it was proof of his arrival as a star on the tour. I also wanted to give you some more reading material in case of a weather delay on Thursday. Enjoy your Masters weekend.
Tony, for the first time in his career, joined the privileged pilgrimage of 82 players, pros, and amateurs, to Augusta, Georgia for the Masters.
The first real inkling that the Masters was an extraordinary event occurred to Tony in 1956, when Ken Venturi nearly won the event as an amateur causing quite a stir around the Bay Area. Tony realized how important, and special, a Masters victory could be.
Tony next heard about the elite nature of the Masters when he qualified for the U.S. Open the same year. There, he played the last day with Walker Inman, Jr. a young pro from Georgia. Inman’s goal during that day was not to win the U.S. Open—he was too far back to have any hope of accomplishing that. His goal was to finish in the top sixteen and earn an automatic invitation to play in the Masters. This was the first time that Tony became aware of the fact that the Masters was an invitation-only tournament.
Once out on tour, Tony continued to hear what a great privilege it was to play in the Masters. Failing to earn an invitation, he watched the tournament on television, year after year. He finally earned his invitation to the 1963 Masters with his strong play during the fall of 1962.
His play earlier in the year, with his many top-ten finishes, made him a favorite in his first Masters, according to sportswriters and fellow players. Despite not winning a tournament during the winter swing, he was in the fourth spot on the money list with $11,831 in official winnings. He enjoyed his new prominence, but still he thirsted for victories, not just prize money.
He began to receive some national press in the weeks leading up to the Masters. Golf Digest ran a feature that painted Tony as a playboy out on tour, constantly surrounded by beautiful women. Sports Illustrated ran a profile of Tony by Gwilym S. Brown, who was also collaborating with Tony on the book that would become Golfer’s Gold.
It was the first real national press that Tony received and the profiles did not quite fit the image he had of himself. He felt the hard-partying playboy profile went too far. At least in the case of the Sports Illustrated article, Brown portrayed the playboy image as outdated, pointing out Tony’s engagement to Betty.
“You would think only three men were playing. In a tournament of this caliber, there are 30 men who could win it.”
Although considered one of the favorites, a role he was not entirely comfortable with, he was not at the top of the list of favorites. Most experts felt Palmer, Player or Nicklaus were locks to win the green jacket. There was such conviction by the press that one of these three players would win that many of the other players were slightly peeved.
“It’s ridiculous,” proclaimed Jimmy Demaret, a veteran of the tour and a television commentator. “You would think only three men were playing. In a tournament of this caliber, there are 30 men who could win it.”
Demaret made his own prediction naming Don January, Tony and Johnny Pott as his picks to finish in that order.
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In the April 1 issue of Sports Illustrated, the esteemed writer, Alfred Wright, handicapped the field in a preview of the Masters. He noted that “The Big Three” won more than 15 percent of all prize money distributed on the winter tour and that they won five of the nine tournaments conducted. One of the three placed second seven times—Player accounting for five of those runner-up finishes. However, he also pointed out there were chinks in “The Big Three’s” armor.
Palmer was struggling with his attempt to give up cigarettes, and it was affecting his game. He felt he needed tobacco to relax during his round. He gained ten pounds during his cold turkey attempt to quit the cigarette habit. Still, he had won in Los Angeles, Phoenix, and Pensacola.
Bursitis that first occurred in San Francisco at the Lucky International bothered Nicklaus causing him to miss his first cut as a pro. Fortunately, the pain disappeared as suddenly as it appeared on the Friday before the Masters. Player, playing fantastic golf, secured a victory in San Diego in addition to his five runner-up finishes. The only cause for concern was that his playoff record was still woeful. In nine playoffs, he was able to win only one.
“I’m playing so well now it scares me,” Player told Nicklaus during a practice round at Augusta.
Wright went on to handicap the other players who might be able to challenge “The Big Three.” He noted that Billy Casper had the best winter tour of his ten-year career. Wright also wrote about Tony’s chances, pointing out that he was playing great golf.
“A man who is invited here for the first time and doesn’t feel the magnitude of this event would have to be numb.”
Tony was determined to play well in his first Masters telling Wright, “I’ve waited too long for this opportunity to mess it up. I think my game is good enough to win and I think I can hold up under pressure—my nerves are in pretty good shape.”
Once he got to Augusta, though, suddenly his nerves were not in great, or even good, shape.
Approached by a reporter while on the practice tee at Augusta he said, “I’m sorry if I seem to be preoccupied, but this is my first time here and I’m still trying to get my bearings. A man who is invited here for the first time and doesn’t feel the magnitude of this event would have to be numb.”
In the secret and unsanctioned betting in Augusta, Palmer drew 4-1 odds as the favorite on the tote board. Nicklaus and Player came next at 6-1.
A poll of 14 past champions gave Palmer ten first-place votes, while Nicklaus received only one vote. The others receiving first-place votes were Tony, January, and Jerry Barber.
“Ordinarily, you have to stick with Palmer and some of the boys who have done it in the past, but don’t sell a fellow like Lema short. I like the way he’s been playing lately, and he has the equipment to win here.”
Interestingly, Palmer, who participated in the former champion’s poll, did not cast his vote for himself. His was the one vote for Nicklaus. Herman Keiser was the past champion who picked Tony to win.
Even though Palmer had voted for Nicklaus, he was optimistic about Tony’s chances. “I realize no first timer ever has won here before, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. And if it can happen, Lema could be the boy to do it. Man, have you seen some of his drives? He hits ‘em clear out of sight. I like the rest of his game, too.”
Jay Hebert also liked Tony’s chances in his first Masters.
“Ordinarily, you have to stick with Palmer and some of the boys who have done it in the past, but don’t sell a fellow like Lema short. I like the way he’s been playing lately, and he has the equipment to win here,” Hebert said.
Led upstairs to the locker room, his locker assignment was located directly under a picture of Bobby Jones sinking the winning putt for the Grand Slam.
“He’s one of those long knockers who can carry most of these hills with his drives,” Hebert went on. “The first time out here is always rough. You gotta get used to hitting in the water and you gotta know when to go for it and when not to. But, if one of these new boys is going to do it, I’d put my money on Lema. He looks like he knows what to do with those 14 sticks.”
As soon as Tony turned off Washington Street onto Magnolia Lane towards the antebellum clubhouse, he fell in love with Augusta National. Greeted like a visiting dignitary upon his arrival, his clubs were whisked off to the caddy house by a doorman while he registered.
Led upstairs to the locker room, his locker assignment was located directly under a picture of Bobby Jones sinking the winning putt for the Grand Slam. He also viewed pictures of such legends as Gene Sarazen, Craig Wood, Byron Nelson, and Sam Snead. As he strolled around the clubhouse, he ran into these same legends in the flesh. He saw Freddie McLeod, winner of the 1908 British Open and Jock Hutchinson who won the same tournament in 1921. The two men acted as the honorary starters hitting the first tee shots in the Masters each year. The atmosphere around the clubhouse sent a shiver down Tony’s spine. He felt he was present in a real-life picture book on the history of golf.
His enjoyment continued once he got out on the golf course. The weeks leading up to the Masters had been dry and warm and the course was alive with color. The verdant fairways and greens, framed by blooming dogwood trees, pink and white azaleas, and rhododendrons make Augusta one of the most beautiful venues in golf. Tony felt it was the finest course he had ever seen or played on.
“I wanted to lie down and roll around on it, it looked so beautiful,” he wrote in Golfer’s Gold.
Tony and Bo Wininger accepted an invitation from Ken and Connie Venturi to share a rented house near the course. Accommodations were difficult in Augusta with hotel and motel rooms reserved months in advance of the tournament. Many Augusta residents rented their houses and then “got out of Dodge” during the hectic week.
Tony found the house comfortable, compared to the cramped quarters of a hotel. Its proximity to Augusta National made the commute to the course easy and relaxing. He also enjoyed the camaraderie of sharing the house with friends. Tony, Wininger, and Venturi played their practice rounds together, joined by Venturi’s former teacher and good friend Byron Nelson.
Venturi and Nelson chatted about shots they hit in past Masters. They speculated about where they thought the location of flagsticks for each round would be and what they would do on certain holes when the wind blew. Tony paid very close attention and felt the information would pay big dividends once the tournament started.
He also learned that although the fairways at Augusta were wide and spacious, it was imperative to place your tee shot precisely. The key on the challenging course was to get in a position for the best angle to the pin on approach shots. Length was an asset at Augusta National, but not at the expense of accuracy.
“I’ve observed you pretty carefully and I cannot see a thing wrong. I think you’re swinging and hitting the ball beautifully.”
Being a gutsy player at Augusta was also important, Tony discovered. He realized that you had to cut corners on the doglegs and know when to attempt to carry a water hazard. Nicklaus, for one, decided that he would go for broke more in the 1963 Masters. He recognized that Palmer played Augusta National with abandon, as if he owned the place. To compete with Palmer in the Masters, he too, would have to gamble.
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With their final practice round complete, Tony asked Nelson how he thought he was playing. Nelson gave him a good long look with the eyes of a teacher.
“I’ve watched your swing for three days now,” Nelson began in his soft Texas drawl. “I’ve observed you pretty carefully and I cannot see a thing wrong. I think you’re swinging and hitting the ball beautifully.”
This comment sent Tony’s confidence soaring and made him feel like doing a little dance right there on the veranda of the clubhouse. He could not wait for the tournament to start.
“Where’s your “Big Three,” now?”
The next morning, however, standing on the first tee, his confidence gave way to his nerves. Like most first time players in the Masters, he wondered if he was going to be able to contact the ball. He pegged his ball, stood back, and took a deep breath. He addressed his ball and then hit it as hard as he could. He looked up and saw the ball soaring down the middle of the fairway about 300-yards. He was off and running in his first Masters.
What a Masters it turned out to be, both for Tony and for the fans. The dry weather turned the greens hard and unreceptive to approach shots while the wind was gusty and hard to gauge. The conditions contributed to a great many high first round scores.
“Where’s your “Big Three,” now?” asked Demaret of the press after the first round.
Mike Souchak and Tony’s housemate, Bo Wininger shared the first-round lead at 69, while Palmer and Nicklaus shot 74 each. Of “The Big Three,” only Gary Player seemed to be in the hunt having shot an opening round 71.
Wininger utilized his short game to produce his 69, chipping to within two feet, or less, on five different occasions. He also sank three putts over 20-feet. Souchak birdied three straight holes starting at the par 5 thirteenth.
Tony recorded a 74 in the opening round, a round where he admitted that he was tense. He did not drive the ball as well as he knew he could, and he was out of position for his approach shots. With the tough conditions, he felt satisfied with a 74 except for a costly double-bogey on the eighth hole that was particularly vexing.
In the second round, he played with Sam Snead who shot a first round 70. Tony played well and even hit some shots that earned a “nice shot,” from Snead, known to be stingy with complements. He fashioned a fantastic 69, one of the better rounds of the day, to Snead’s 73. His round included an eagle on the 475-yard, par 5 thirteenth hole where he hit a four-iron second shot to ten-feet and sank the putt.
The best round of the day, a 66, belonged to Nicklaus. He identified the round as one of the best of his career, while Alfred Wright, writing for Sports Illustrated called it one of the “finest single rounds ever shot at Augusta.” He went bogey free for the round while scoring six birdies. His 66 was just two shots off the Masters record of 64, carded by Lloyd Mangrum in 1940. His hot round resulted in a move up the leader board to second place, one shot off the lead.
“I just can’t play much better,” Nicklaus, told the press after his round.
Mike Souchak had the mid-point lead at 139 after following up his 69 with a fine 70 in the second round. The co-leader in the first round, Wininger, recorded a second round 72 and was three off the lead.
Tony returned to the rented house in high spirits, as did Wininger. Ken Venturi was happy for his friends but disappointed with his own play. He was far down the leader board. Even though he seemed out of the tournament, Venturi continued to talk to Tony about how to play Augusta National, where to go for broke and where to play cautious. As the players prepared for bed, it began to rain. The rain continued to pour all night long.
The next day, Saturday, the course was soggy from the overnight rain and the weather remained ominous. It continued to rain off-and-on, making for a miserable day out on the course.
“The fairways and greens are under water; the course is unplayable.”
In the sodden conditions, Nicklaus was attempting to become the youngest Masters champion at 23-years-old. Byron Nelson, the current holder of the youngest champion honor, won his green jacket when he was just 25 years old in 1937.
Out on the wet course, Souchak completely lost his composure on the thirteenth hole. He hit a fine drive into the center of the fairway that left him only a mid-iron into the par 5. His drive came to rest in standing water. Entitled to a free drop from the casual water, he had trouble locating an area to take his drop—there simply was not a dry spot on the fairway.
“Why don’t we call it off?” Souchak snapped at a rules official. “The fairways and greens are under water; the course is unplayable.”
“Mr. Roberts says, ‘play on’,” explained the official as he shrugged his shoulders.
Finally finding a semi-dry place for his ball, he was never able to regain his composure. He skied to a 40 on the back nine and shot a 79 for the round. Nicklaus, who witnessed Souchak’s unraveling, immediately dismissed him as a challenger. Nicklaus had the ability to focus during bad conditions, able to plod along stringing pars together while other players became unnerved.
Even though he remained focused, Nicklaus did not play the third round flawlessly. He started the round with a wildly hooked tee shot ending up between the first and ninth fairways, but managed to salvage par. He birdied the fifth hole, but missed short putts on the sixth, seventh, eighth and tenth holes.
However, he continued to grind out one par after another while other players faltered. As he approached the eighteenth green, he looked over at the scoreboard to gauge his position in relation to the rest of the field. Nicklaus, partially colorblind, had trouble reading the scoreboard with the system employed at Augusta for the Masters. The scoreboards list the player’s scores in relation to par with under-par scores in red numbers and over-par scores represented in green. Nicklaus could not tell the red numbers from the green ones on the scoreboard. He finally had to ask his caddy to help him.
“By gosh, Willie,” Nicklaus asked, “are we leading this thing by three strokes?”
“Yes, Boss,” came the answer.
Nicklaus felt a surge of Adrenalin at this news and said, “Well, let's see if we can make it four.”
He was unable to increase his lead, which shrank as Ed Furgol, playing in a group behind him, narrowed the margin to one.
“I played a lot better than I scored,” Nicklaus told the press after carding a 2-over 74.
One of the better rounds of the day belonged to Chen Ching-Po, a golfer from Formosa who now lived in Tokyo. Ching-Po fashioned a 71 in the wet conditions and moved up the leader board into a tie for sixth. Julius Boros fired a very steady 71 and was just two strokes off Nicklaus’s lead.
Tony shot an uneventful 74, although he maintained his position on the leader board because of the wet conditions and high scores. His 217 put him in third place, tied with Snead at one over par for the tournament.
“I feel so charged up I could just walk out the door to the porch over there, walk right through the railing and float straight to the first tee.”
Playing in just his third major championship, and contending, did not faze Tony at all—in fact, it fired him up. Arriving at the golf course for the final round, Tony went upstairs to the second floor of the clubhouse at Augusta. He was studying the pairings and standings when Dan Sikes, the former attorney who now played the tour, came up behind him.
“Tony,” he drawled in his Florida accent, “you just might be able to win this thing.”
“Attorney,” Tony responded, “I feel so charged up I could just walk out the door to the porch over there, walk right through the railing and float straight to the first tee.”
That feeling stayed with him the entire day. The weather matched his mood as sunshine replaced the chilly rain of the previous day. He felt that if he could shoot a good score on the front nine, he would be in very good position to win. He accomplished that goal when he made the turn at one-under-par, now even par for the tournament. As he walked to the tenth tee, he paused to study the leader board and learned he had gained one shot on Nicklaus.
Nicklaus admitted to nervousness and butterflies in his stomach before and during the fourth round. He made a rare mental mistake when he left the first green. He neglected to check the hole placement on the eighth green, visible from the first green. The eighth green is elevated, so players cannot gauge exactly where the flagstick is located from the fairway. When he got to the fairway on the hole, he guessed that the cup location was on the right side of the green.
He played his one-iron to the left giving him plenty of green to work with if he missed the green, which he did. As he climbed the hill to the green, he was shocked to see the hole was located on the left side of the green. He now faced a tough, little chip shot with no green to work with. He had to chip a six-iron into a bank and try to trickle the ball down to the cup. The chip shot hit the bank, which killed the shot short of the green, resulting in a bogey.
Tony, playing with Chen Ching-Po, split the tenth fairway with his drive, but then selected the wrong club for his approach. Hitting a five-iron, when a four-iron would have been a better choice, he hit the green, but was approximately 100-feet from the hole. The result of his mental mistake was a three-putt bogey.
“If I knew those words, I would use them myself.”
Meanwhile, Snead and Player started making birdies in front of Tony. Now he was behind not only Nicklaus, but Player and Snead, as well. On the twelfth hole, a tricky par 3, Tony hit a good shot to eight feet. He needed to drain the birdie putt desperately. When he missed the putt, Tony’s temper got the better of him.
The gallery on the twelfth hole is contained behind the tee so only the players and their caddies are on the green. Tony tapped in for his par and then unleashed an angry stream of “the filthiest language I had used since mustering out of the Marines.”
After retrieving his ball from the hole, he straightened up and looked at Ching-Po who wore a quizzical expression on his face. Tony walked over to his fellow competitor, who was having difficulties in the fourth round, and apologized for using such vile language in front of a guest in his country.
“Is all right,” Ching-Po replied in broken English. “If I knew those words, I would use them myself.” Tony laughed, no longer feeling angry and headed for the par 5 thirteenth hole.
He followed up a great drive with another good shot resulting in a birdie that got him back to even par for the tournament.
The tournament was down to five competitors and the action was getting hot and heavy. Alfred Wright described the action in Sports Illustrated writing, “For the next hour and more, the respective positions of these five players were scrambled and descrambled so rapidly that one might have thought the scoreboards around the course were being operated by the dealer in a five-card Monte game.”
The five players were Nicklaus at one-under par playing the twelfth hole; Sam Snead, one-under playing the fifteenth; Gary Player, even par also playing on fifteenth; Tony, even par teeing off on the fourteenth; and Julius Boros at one-over playing the twelfth with Nicklaus.
Nicklaus found trouble on the twelfth hole when his tee shot on the par 3 found the front bunker. The sand was wet from the prior day’s rain. His shot came out hard, running across, and off the green. He elected to use a putter for his next shot rather than risk chipping to the downhill sloping green towards Rae’s Creek. Still, his putt ran eight feet past the hole.
He marked his ball and watched as Boros ran his 12-foot putt for birdie straight into the hole to put him at even par for the tournament. Nicklaus had to make his eight-footer to remain even with Boros, as well as Tony, and avoid losing ground to Snead and Player who had birdied both the fifteen and sixteen. Nicklaus studied the putt, stood over it for an eternity and then finally stroked it into the hole for his bogey.
The leader board now read:
Snead (through sixteen) - 2-under
Player (through sixteen) - 2-under
Nicklaus (on thirteen) - even
Boros (on thirteen) - even
Lema (on fourteen) - even
Things got wild as Player took bogey fives on both the seventeenth and eighteenth holes flushing away his chance at a second green jacket. Snead hit his tee shot on the par 3 sixteenth hole badly, winding up at the front of the green and three-putted for a bogey. He also bogeyed the eighteenth, falling out of contention.
Tony managed to secure pars on the fourteenth through seventeenth holes to remain at even par. Nicklaus added a birdie on the par 3 sixteenth to his birdie on the thirteenth to go two shots in front of Tony. Boros was unable to secure the birdie down the stretch he needed to catch Nicklaus. Tony knew his only chance to pull off the upset victory was to birdie the last hole and hope that Nicklaus would bogey either seventeen or eighteen.
The eighteenth hole is a difficult hole to birdie. The tee shot, from out of a chute of pine trees, demands a precisely placed shot on the dogleg right hole that plays uphill the entire way. Bunkers on the right protect the narrow green while a drop off on the left results in a difficult chip shot. Two ridges divide the green into three distinct plateaus and makes putting exceedingly difficult.
Although Tony was tense, it was a good kind of tension. It focused his mind. He hit a good tee shot that left an approach shot to a pin located on the middle plateau of the green, slightly favoring the right side of the green. Tony knew if he landed the ball just off the green on the right side it would bounce towards the pin, but this also meant flirting with the bunker. He settled into the shot with positive thoughts. He hit a firm four-iron that hit his target and bounced up, and onto, the green, 22-feet above the hole.
Alfred Wright, in Sports Illustrated, wrote that Tony “looked over this scary putt with a poise that denied the torment inside him. For all one could tell, he might have been playing a $2 Nassau on Wednesday afternoon back home in San Leandro.”
He took off his glove as he and his caddy, Pokey (most Augusta caddies had colorful nicknames), looked over the putt. He tossed away his cigarette and got over the putt they read to break two ways. First, the putt would break to the right before curling back to the left closer to the cup. In addition, it was a slick putt, downhill all the way.
When he hit the putt, he knew it was good. He watched as it started on line and, as he thought it would, the ball started to break right. It held that line for an instant before it gradually swung back to the left and headed straight towards the hole. As the ball turned towards the hole, Tony began to chase it, moving to his left. When it disappeared into the hole, it was as if an explosion went off inside him. He roared in approval as he jumped into a little jig. The crowd around the final green erupted with one of the famous Augusta roars heard around the course.
A picture of Tony, by James Drake, shows Tony giving a fist pump with his right hand while he raised his left leg in the first step of his celebratory dance. Drake’s camera caught Tony with his mouth wide open releasing an ecstatic yell.
Nicklaus heard the huge roar that erupted from the eighteenth green. He delayed his second shot on the seventeenth hole until he could learn the reason. Before playing the seventeenth, he glanced at a leader board and discovered that only one player left on the course had a chance to beat him—Tony.
The leader board near the seventeenth green soon registered Tony’s birdie, so Nicklaus now knew he needed pars on both seventeen and eighteen to win. He managed a par on the seventeenth hole and headed for the tee at eighteen.
After his round, Tony felt wrung out and excited at the same time. He signed his card before officials escorted him to Cliff Roberts’s private office in the clubhouse. This was the same room where Venturi had watched on television as Palmer had birdied the last two holes in 1960 to defeat him. The same room where Gary Player had watched Palmer double bogey the eighteenth hole to hand him the green jacket in 1961.
In the room were Roberts and Bobby Jones, who Tony was meeting for the first time. Also in the room were Arnold Palmer, who as defending champion would participate in the green jacket ceremony, and Labron Harris who was low amateur for the event. There was a television set in the room providing tournament coverage as well as a television camera to record reactions in the room.
Palmer was glum and downhearted about his play in the tournament. Still, he heartily congratulated Tony on his fine play, as did the other men in the room. Servers poured drinks while everybody sat down to watch Nicklaus play the eighteenth hole.
“I didn’t try to play conservative golf at any time,” Nicklaus later explained, “but neither was I about to get reckless on the eighteenth.”
He hit his drive down the left, the safer side, of the fairway, where it ended up in a muddy patch. After a free drop to a drier spot on the fairway, he looked towards the green that appeared ridiculously small to him. From that side of the fairway, he could only see the top half of the pin, the huge gallery and the gaping bunkers.
Nicklaus mapped out courses with precise yardages from landmarks, one of the few pros who did so at the time. He paced off the distance to his yardage marker, the last tree on the right, and calculated that he had 160-yards to the pin. The distance called for a normal six-iron for him. His approach left him a 35-foot putt from above the hole.
Watching the television, Tony knew how difficult Nicklaus’s downhill putt would be. He thought it was quite possible that Nicklaus could three-putt.
Nicklaus took his customary lengthy time studying the putt before he stood over the ball. After a long pause, he at last struck the putt. He thought he hit a very good putt, thinking it was going in the hole. Instead, the putt ran three feet past the hole.
Nicklaus again deliberated for a lengthy time studying the short, difficult putt. He stood, as if frozen, over the putt forever before he finally stroked the ball. When Tony saw his second putt, he did not think it had a chance to go in. Somehow, the ball held its line, climbed the hill and finally dove into the hole.
After his putt went in, Nicklaus took off his white ball cap and flung it towards the front of the green. He turned back towards the television camera with a huge smile on his face as his father, Charlie, ran onto the green and gave his son a big bear hug.
“I was kind of surprised when my first putt didn’t go in,” Nicklaus admitted after the round, “and I was even more surprised when my second one did.”
When the putt dropped, Tony felt as if every bit of emotion drained from him. He felt as if he would never be able to muster up the effort to get out of the chair he was sitting in. He felt deflated, almost numb.
Nicklaus signed his scorecard and then, on cloud nine, arrived at Robert’s office. All present in the room congratulated him before preparing to move to the presentation ceremonies held on the practice putting green.
Venturi was waiting for Tony just outside the office, grabbed him and ushered him into an unused room in the clubhouse. There the two talked as tears welled up in both their eyes and they “stumbled around the room like two blind people, trying to regain our composure,” as Tony described it. They both now knew, and felt the heartbreak, of coming so close to a Masters green jacket.
Finally, the two made their way to the presentation ceremony where they watched Palmer help Nicklaus into a size-44 regular green jacket. During the ceremony, Tony could not help but think back to that damn double-bogey on the eighth hole during Thursday’s first round. He could not help but ponder what might have been, if not for that costly mishap.
Nicklaus won a check for $20,000 while Tony had to make do with the second-place prize of $12,000. This was more money than he won in his first full year on tour, more than he won in the bleak years of 1959 and 1960 combined. The check also moved him up to third place on the official money list bumping Palmer from third to fourth.
Still, the check was not big enough for Tony’s tastes. He met with the press after the awards ceremony and said, “You’d have had champagne—the best—in the press tent, and all you could drink, if I’d have won. I would have been glad to have blown the whole $20,000 first-place money.”
Instead, there was only beer in the tent.
The numbness of his narrow defeat wore off and he was starting to feel philosophical, even proud of his performance. He admitted that he was “too stupid” to realize that no first timer had ever won the Masters.
“I think I have it made,” he told reporters. “Even though I finished second, they’ve already asked me to appear on at least two television matches next year.”
“When I started out in golf as a caddy in my teens I decided I was going to adopt Walter Hagen’s philosophy of life—‘smell the roses along the way.’ Well, I’ve smelled them and I’m going to keep on smelling them.”
He pointed out to the press how valuable Ken Venturi’s help was during the tournament.
“Had I won, I would have given him half the trophy,” Tony said. “Here was a guy, who was in the field against me, yet I played four practice rounds with him, and he told me everything he knew about the course. I never would have done as well as I did had it not been for Ken. I want to pay him tribute. I have a fine family, the best. I never made college, I barely got through high school, but it wasn’t my family’s fault; they are gods to me. So is Venturi. He’s quite a guy.”
Across the country from Augusta, back in Oakland on that Sunday, John Fry was working in the pro shop, at Lake Chabot, when the phone rang. On the other end was a local reporter who asked Fry if he knew that Tony was married. Seeing the tournament on television, Shirley Donovan called a local paper to inform them that she was Mrs. Tony Lema, mother of Tony’s son. The reporter called Fry to verify the story. Fry told the reporter that he knew nothing about Tony having a wife, or a child. Later, a well-placed member of San Francisco Golf Club made a phone call to the paper, which subsequently spiked the story.
Back in Augusta, after Tony met with the press, he attended a dinner hosted by Cliff Roberts. Also present was the new champion, Nicklaus and his wife Barbara, Palmer and his wife Winnie, Gary and Vivienne Player, Billy and Shirley Casper and Charlie Coe, one of the finest amateurs in the country and a member of Augusta. Everybody toasted the winner, as well as Tony, and they enjoyed a convivial meal. The sting of defeat had worn off and Tony felt proud to finish second in such a prestigious event.
After dinner, Arnold Palmer took him aside for a man-to-man talk. He told Tony how well he played. Referring to Nicklaus, Palmer felt that Tony could “beat that kid.” He also told Tony he considered him a close friend and this particularly touched Tony. Their friendship, always warm, grew tighter after this conversation.
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