Tom Weiskopf
“I think I can get you Tom Weiskopf’s bag for the Phoenix Open,” Joe Porter, a friend and PGA Tour player said to me in early January of 1970.
“Sounds great,” I said. It was done, I had a bag for the 1970 Phoenix Open.
During semester break my junior and senior years in college, I caddied on the PGA Tour. I had become friends with a PGA Tour player, George Boutell, for whom I caddied. As in past years, the PGA Tour started on the west coast with the Phoenix Open the second tournament in January.
I worked the first week for George at the Los Angeles Open at Rancho Park Golf Course where he made the cut, finishing 35th. As a result, it was a pleasant ride back to Phoenix on Monday after the Sunday finish. George was starting his third year on tour as a "rabbit", a nonexempt player chasing after the green dollars by way of Monday qualifying.
Being from Phoenix, George had a friend who regularly caddied for him in the Phoenix Open, therefore I did not have a bag for the tournament. “Not a problem,” said George, “we’ll find someone who doesn't have a caddie.” And so it was that Joe Porter, another Phoenix resident and friend of Tom Weiskopf’s, set me up to caddie for the week.
It was a great bag. The 27 year old Weiskopf was a top 25 money winner in 1969 and ready to break out into the career so many were predicting. From Massillon, Ohio, he went to Ohio State and was continually compared with Jack Nicklaus, who was just two years older. He was married at the time to a former Miss Minnesota, Jeanie Ruth, whom he had met at the St. Paul Open some years earlier.
While a top player, Tom Weiskopf never achieved the greatness that was predicted. His nickname, “The Towering Inferno” probably explains why he did not achieve more. Despite a British Open win, four Masters runner up finishes, and 16 total PGA Tour wins, many thought he might have achieved more. He had a majestic golf swing, hit it a mile, and hit it high, the secret to great play. With the rock hard greens the tour plays, the ability to hit the ball high, allowing the ball to stop on the green was a big advantage. Many said one of the big reasons Nicklaus was so good was because he hit it high.
“Hi, Cal Simmons,” I said to the tall, athletic Tom Weiskopf on Tuesday morning. At about 6'3" he was one of the tallest players on tour.
“Nice to meet you," he said as we shook hands. “Let’s go hit some balls,” and we walked out to the driving range located in the middle of this very tightly enclosed course. Phoenix Country Club is located right in the heart of Phoenix, just a few blocks from what was then the center of the business district. It is on one of the smallest pieces of land you will find for an 18 hole golf course, no more than 90 acres. The practice range was located in the middle of the golf course and had an unsightly chain link fence around it. The fence would come into play with a wayward shot as it was marked as out of bounds.
Like everything else at the Phoenix Country Club, the range was narrow and short. A shagger was on full alert working the range at the Phoenix Open.
The course was wall to wall. There was not one area on the course to stretch it out. The perimeter holes all had out of bounds on top of the playing area, with streets and close in back yards lurking. On the other hand, the interior had parallel fairways and tees near to greens, making it somewhat dangerous for everyday play.
In addition to being short, it was flat. The only defense was that it was quite tight. However, if the player could drive it straight, low numbers were there to be had.
With Viet Nam in full force, Tom was serving time in the National Guard reserves and had been on his obligatory weekend duty and unable to play in the Los Angeles Open. This was to be his first tournament in almost 2 months.
After some practice we headed for the 1st tee to play his second practice round of the week, having played Monday while I was driving over from LA.
“So, you have caddied in tour events before,” he said. “Joe said you have done a good job for George Boutell.”
“Thanks, it’s been fun,” I said.
“We can get yardages today and tomorrow, then you can get the hole locations for the tournament, right?” Tom said.
“Front, middle and back yardages, plus the hole locations?” I inquired.
“Ya, right.” he said.
During an uneventful practice round he was not unfriendly but quiet, and asked me basic questions like how old was I, where did I go to school, did I play golf. I could sense that after the tournament ended he would never remember me.
“How was he?” asked Joe later that night.
“Fine,” I responded.
“He is a great player and could win this week,” Joe followed up. “Volatile. In college he was as good as Nicklaus but could not keep in under control. Did he hit it long?"
“He hits it very long,” I replied. “Plus he hits his irons high and seems like a decent putter.”
“That’s why I think he has a good chance here this week,” continued Joe, “he hits it so long and so straight, he has a huge advantage on a short course like this.”
Wednesday, pro am day, was not something that most professionals enjoyed, but they all knew it paid the bills. Slow play and partners that only played a few times a year were typical situations seen on pro am day.
Someone said, there are three types of tour professionals in a pro am, half are great guys and perfect to be with, 25% are ok and the balance are pretty much jerks. Sadly, Tom Weiskopf fell into the last category.
As we walked up to the first tee shortly before our starting time, Tom’s amateur partners were gathered somewhat forward, near the tee marker where they would play from. The back tee from which the professionals played, was back about 25 yards. Tom walked up and stood by his tee waiting for the starter to announce his name.
One by one each of the amateurs walked back and introduced himself to Tom. It would be some of the few words he would speak to them the rest of the day. Throughout the round he failed to interact with them, get to know them or encourage them.
Realizing he was not going to make any attempt with his partners, I made every effort to help by reading putts, giving yardages, suggesting clubs all the way around.
There is a story about a professional who acted like Tom did that day. The team had played well, no thanks to the professional, and on the 18th green the pro said to one of the amateurs, “if you make this putt, we will win the event and I will win some money.”
“Really?” said the amateur. And with that he turned around and whacked his ball back down the fairway.
That story might have applied to Tom. But with the combination of both Tom’s good play and his amateur partners, the team finished second and Tom got a check. There was never any joy in the round. It was a job. In fact there was no joy in him the entire week.
As we walked toward the clubhouse, following the weakest of pleasantries, Bill, Alex and Dan approached to thank me, gave me a tip and wished us the best in the tournament. While none of them made negative comments about the experience, I am certain as they reviewed the round at the 19th hole, there were no positive comments about Tom Weiskopf as a person.
I have told the story to a few people who were on tour at the time. The response was the same from each of them. "Oh, that must have been when he was drinking." That may well have been true but he did not show up intoxicated or appear to drink on the course. He needed to take a remedial course on being a nice guy to people who paid a lot of money to play golf in a PGA Tour Pro-Am.
Thursday proved that even the best player cannot sit on the sideline for two months, come out on tour and expect to play well. Driving it in the trees several times, Tom shot 73, which was not a good score by any measure. No anger, just disgusted reactions. Another 73 would have him missing the cut.
Friday morning came and with it a new attitude. Tom played well, shooting 67, one of the low rounds of the day. But even with a good round Tom is not a joyous guy. Perhaps he was just staying focused, not getting too high when a great round was underway or too low with a bad one. He just forgot about the getting too low part.
I was happy. Tom made the cut and I had a bag for the weekend.
Saturday, Tom fired the lowest round I ever saw as a caddie in a tour event, 63. A flawless round from a great player, on top of his game, on a short course, with perfect weather conditions. The result? A course record. And it lasted one half hour as Johnny Miller posted a 61 just as Tom was being interviewed by the press.
Johnny Miller, eight months on tour, had just fired his lowest round by six shots. It has often been said that Johnny Miller owned the desert, he won so many times. The low scoring started in Phoenix in 1970.
Sunday found Weiskopf in the second to last pairing with Homero Blancas, tied with Paul Harney, one shot behind Gene Littler and one ahead of Johnny Miller and his 61.
As with every PGA Tour event, it is very difficult to win. On a course like the Phoenix Country Club someone would usually shoot a low score on Sunday and win. And that is just what happened, Dale Douglass shot 66. Tom played only fair under the circumstances of needing to play well and, by the 16th hole, was needing to make some magic.
He drove it long and straight down the fairway leaving himself 105 yards to a very accessible hole location. Making a beautiful swing, he hit a wedge that landed some 10 feet behind the hole and spun to three feet. He then slammed the club back in the bag in anger.
"What's wrong?" I said.
"Son of a bitch, I was trying to make that one! It should have spun more!" he spit out. Mad because he did not make a field shot from 105? Wow.
Finishing par, par at 17 and 18, he captured fourth place, three behind Douglas. It was the best finish of any PGA Tour event I ever caddied in. For that I have to thank him.
Was he trying too hard to make a score? Did the fact that this was his first tournament in two months cause him anxiety on Thursday and Sunday, shooting 73 and 70 respectively? Nobody had a lower Friday- Saturday score of 130. Did he have a few cocktails on Saturday night? I don't know, he just did not win.
Walking to the clubhouse, we exchanged perfunctory plaudits on the week. He then said, "Jean will send you a check next week, give me your address." It seemed odd, but the check showed up just as he said. I was paid what I expected, five per cent of his $3,710 in winnings and the standard rate of $20 per day for six days.
While he treated me fine through the week, my opinion of him was formed by how he treated his pro am partners on Wednesday. At that time in has life, he was arrogant, self absorbed and had a problem with alcohol. While I have not been around him since that week, he reportedly stopped drinking in 2000 and claims to "be a different person."
He had a world of talent that was muffled by his emotional stability and off course conduct. But the 1970 Phoenix Open with Tom Weiskopf was a great memory for in A Life In Golf.
