For me, it’s about my father, my son, Ben Hogan, and golf.
“There are more important things in life than sports,” I’ve heard. You’ve heard it, too. It’s true, and undeniably so.
Courtesy: Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
But let’s face it, life without sports is hell, especially THIS week. It’s supposed to be ‘March Madness,’ a time when millions of us would have been glued to the screen watching Thursday through Sunday, starting at noon and ending after midnight. We’d be rooting for our teams and checking our brackets, too. Instead, we have something else: COVID-19.
So we have to make the best of it, right? How? With everything in sports either postponed or canceled, I thought it would be an excellent time to go from live to ‘re-live,’ that is, to embrace this quiet time and reflect on sports memories.
My most memorable sports memory isn’t something I witnessed personally. I was too young for that. My father told me about one athlete and one play–one golfer and one swing, to be specific. The year was 1950. The athlete was Ben Hogan. The place was Marion, Pennsylvania. The event was the U.S. Open.
Hogan was quite the phenomenon back then, a ‘dead man brought back to life,’ so to speak, having recovered from a near-fatal auto crash. Hogan defied the odds by physically clawing his way back to compete in golf’s top echelon. And he did it in about a year. America was in awe.
In one of golf’s most famous photographs and shots, here’s Ben Hogan on the 18th hole at Marion with ‘that 1-iron’ (photo, USGA.com)
And there Hogan stood that day on the 18th hole of one of pro golf’s most-prized tournaments. Vying for the lead, he stood about 200 yards from the green. To stay in contention, Hogan needed to finish in three or fewer strokes. Hogan took out a 1-iron and addressed the ball.
For those of you who didn’t wince while reading that last sentence, I’ll repeat it: HE TOOK OUT a 1-IRON! Golfers have created new and nasty words while trying to play that club. Lee Trevino once quipped that he’d be comfortable holding up a 1-iron in a lightning storm because “not even God can hit it.”
With that classic Hogan swing, the ball left his clubhead and went straight for the green, bounced, and settled 20-feet from the pin. Two putts later, Hogan found himself in a three-person playoff. He won the next day.
Hogan is remembered as one of the game’s greatest players—in the same category as Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, and Tiger Woods. But there was something about Hogan—just as there was about Arnie—that set those two apart. For Arnie, it was personality. For Hogan, it was ‘that swing.’ And when Hogan got into the business of manufacturing clubs under his name, well, golfers came running. My father bought a full set–1-iron included.
My father, Frank Albert Fear (courtesy, Pat Davis)
I remember going to the golf course with my father. I don’t remember how well he played (I was too young to know), but I remember being there with him. I remember his smell. I remember that his golf buddies liked him. I remember how he approached the game, too. Seriously. Studiously. My dad loved golf.
I wish I had more memories like that. But not long after, my father passed away suddenly–literally dropping dead before me. We were alone. One minute he was there. The next minute he wasn’t.
Yes, ‘there are more important things in life than sports.’ But there is something about the sports-life connection, too, especially when love for a sport passes from one generation to the next. What my father did for me I passed on to my son. The best memory of all was playing with Frank Jr. at my favorite course–Old Head Golf Links, in Kinsale, County Cork, Ireland. It was great fun that neither of us will forget.
Our son, Frank Anthony Fear, Jr., playing at Old Head in Ireland
Yes, there’s no March Madness to watch this week. No NBA, NHL, MLB, XFL, or other sport, either. But the void will pass.
Before long, there will be new games, additional experiences, and wonderful memories to cherish. As Ben Hogan put it, “The most important shot in golf is the next one.”
Yes, the next one. But, in life, let’s never forget the last one.
Thanks for the memories! Good story.