We overuse the word “historic,” especially in the sports realm. It’s not possible for something that happens every year, no matter how spectacular or striking, to be accompanied almost by default by this grandiose adjective (and, above all, I’m thinking of the number of high-level football matches between fierce rivals that receive this label). When we turn the historic into the routine, the weight of the word diminishes, and we risk alienating the fan or follower, who will no longer be swayed by hyperbole. Repetition breeds boredom and disengagement.
However, history is filled with events that have gone more or less unnoticed over time and do deserve special emphasis. Golf, of course, is not exempt from this circumstance.
The Fantastic Four were born on a golf course
Some time ago, I told you that the Marvel universe as such was born on a golf course, the result of a game between Martin Goodman, owner of Magazine Management, and Jack Liebowitz, an executive of DC Comics and editorial rival. Liebowitz was very proud of the success his publishing house had achieved with the Justice League comic, which brought together the most famous heroes of the house (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and others), and the first thing Goodman did upon returning to work was to commission Stan Lee, his employee, to create a title starring a group of superheroes. Lee teamed up with Jack Kirby, and the two shaped The Fantastic Four, and Marvel Comics began its successful journey that continues six decades later.
Hawkes agreed to direct Scarface after a round of golf
It’s not the only creative “birth” that has occurred on a golf course. In 1930, Howard Hughes, businessman and film producer, filed a lawsuit against director Howard Hawks because he felt that one of his films, The Dawn Patrol, was too similar to Hell’s Angels, a war title produced by him. Despite these differences, Hughes was a deep admirer of Hawks and wanted him to direct the film that would eventually be titled Scarface. Both Hughes and Hawks were avid golfers, and the producer offered the director to drop the lawsuit in exchange for playing a round with him. By the end of the 18 holes, Hawks had even agreed to direct Scarface.
You might be thinking that now I’m the one overusing the anecdotal and that these two stories aren’t particularly significant, and that I’m possessed by the spirit of contradiction or am somewhat hypocritical, given what was stated in the opening paragraph. Although my intention is to show you that, if we scratch the surface a little, we will find references to golf in a good number of situations and circumstances, I will try to redeem myself with one last tale… or perhaps it’s better to drop the diminutive.
The Commander in Chief of the United States Pacific Fleet received the news of the attack on Pearl Harbour on the way to a golf course
Husband E. Kimmel was a great golf enthusiast and was about to leave home early in the morning to play a friendly match with Walter C. Short, a friend and fellow officer. Bathed in a very promising sun, their duel was to take place at the Fort Shafter golf course on the island of Oahu, in Hawaii.
Shortly before leaving home, Kimmel received a call. Early on a Sunday morning, the phone was not usually the bearer of good news… especially when the recipient of the call was the Commander in Chief of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. For his part, Walter C. Short, his playing partner, was a lieutenant general and his Army counterpart in the Hawaiian Islands.
Captain James Murphy informed Kimmel that the USS Ward, a destroyer patrolling around the island of Oahu, had encountered a Japanese midget submarine. It could have been a false alarm, but shortly after, they called the commander in chief again. The Japanese were attacking Pearl Harbor. The date, December 7, 1941.
By a narrow margin, and even if it had been a minor and secondary matter compared to the war and human disaster, golf dodged a bullet that day. As noted in the magnificent book When War Played Through by John Strege, Kimmel and Short were accused of not having their forces properly prepared for a possible Japanese attack, but if the offensive had caught them on the golf course, the “reputational damage” to the sport would have been incalculable.
These three brief examples serve to make it clear that there is golf in many unexpected corners, whether current or past. As I mentioned during the presentation of the XXII Madrid Awards last June, there was golf in ancient Rome, in the Netherlands and France during the Middle Ages, in the Hundred Years’ War, in Mary Stuart… There was golf in the Normandy Landings, in places as diverse as the White House and revolutionary Cuba, and even in the conquest of the moon.
There is golf in The Great Gatsby, The Bridge on the River Kwai, Moby Dick, or Treasure Island. There is golf in cinema, in Fred Astaire, Katherine Hepburn, Howard Hughes, Mary Pickford, Glenn Ford, or Dean Martin. There is golf in the art of Norman Rockwell, Charles Lees, J. C. Leyendecker, or our dear José María Gallego or Forges. There is golf in the writings of Gay Talese, John Updike, P. G. Wodehouse, Ian Fleming, or even in Ortega y Gasset. There is golf in the music of Bing Crosby, Celine Dion, Willie Nelson, Alice Cooper, Bob Dylan, or Lou Reed.
There is golf in the lives of many more people than we think. Golf has been with us for centuries, permeating society, and sometimes we just need to look a little closer to discover its presence, beyond competition, entertainment, or mere sporting activity.
