Arnold Palmer was my friend, hero
This is a column I knew I was going to have to write, but hoped it wouldn’t be necessary for quite a while.
The passing of Arnold Palmer early Sunday evening was something that was expected, given his declining health in the last two years. And while you tried to be prepared, it was a shock.
Arnold Palmer was a friend of mine, but he was also my hero. He was the reason I got interested in golf and eventually getting hooked.
There have been millions of stories recounted in the 24 hours since he left us. I don’t have quite that many, but because I covered the latter stages of his career and lived just 10 minutes from his office in Latrobe, I got to spend a lot more time with him than many others did.
It’s my intention to share some of those with you here.
n One of the things I’ll always remember about AP is the concern he had about the local media who were out at a tour event covering him.
I was at the U.S. Senior Open at Saucon Valley in 2000 and he didn’t play very well that week, so he decided not to accept a request to go into the media center after the round. He didn’t believe he deserved to go in based on his play.
So in order to give the local TV stations access to him, they brought him to a stage with a podium. He answered questions, gave the clips to be shown on the 6 o’clock news and then asked if everybody got everything they needed.
The guys all said yes and thanked him. He turned and started to walk off and then looked over his shoulder and said, “Mike, are you OK?” I couldn’t believe the dagger-like stares I got from the TV types as if to say, “Who the heck are you?”
My response to him was, “Well I do have a couple more questions.” He shot back, “You always have more questions.”
With that, he took me back behind the stage and we talked about a variety of subjects for over 20 minutes.
n There was the year he came off the 18th green at Augusta National Golf Club and was met under the famous tree there by a horde of media. As he finished with the group, he saw me and cocked his head toward the clubhouse.
I caught up with him and he said let’s go upstairs and talk. I thought he meant the second floor, but as we made our way up the stairs, he made a turn and started up another flight of stairs.
Those led to the Champions locker room, a room where only Masters champions were welcome. A burly security guard stopped me and said you can’t go there. Palmer turned around and said,” He’s OK. He’s with me.”
Hearing those words was an amazing experience.
n I got to caddie for the man once. It was in a Tuesday practice round in 1989, leading up to the U.S. Senior Open at Laurel Valley Golf Club.
I had made the request to Doc Giffin, Palmer’s administrative assistant, and a few days later got the word from Doc that, “clean up your shoes, you’ve got a bag!”
It was a hot and sticky week and when he arrived at Laurel that day, I met his car and he immediately tried to talk me out of carrying for him. “Let the flat bellies do that,” he said.
No, I said, I want to do it for the story.
His response was that I could walk down the middle of the fairway beside him all day and we’d talk about whatever I wanted.
I insisted and after he hit his drive off the first hole he started down the fairway, looked over his shoulder and said, “Are you going to do it or not?” I said I was and he said, “Then let’s go.”
What ensued was nine holes of a most wonderful experience. Asking questions, getting answers and just having a great time. His regular caddie suggested, as I dragged myself up the hill from the ninth green to the 10th tee, that Palmer thought it would be a good idea if I walked with him on the back nine and let the caddie do the heavy lifting.
Doc and I just talked about that a week or so ago and he told me, I was only the third media guy to carry his bag.
Words don’t come easily to describe how special that was and will always be.
n This one isn’t directly golf-related, it’s more about Arnold Palmer the man.
As I mentioned earlier, I live a short distance from his office and made many trips there.
What made those trips so enjoyable was the exchanges that we’d have. He loved giving the needle to those he liked being around.
As soon as I’d enter his spectacular office, he’d look up and yell, “Doc, I thought I told you to do something about security!” And we’ll all laugh. The back and forth would continue and even that made me feel special.
He was an icon, the absolute best.
I know I’ve been a very fortunate man to have lived and worked during the Arnold Palmer era. Even more to the point, I count myself to have known him and to call him a friend.
God bless Arnold Palmer. Rest in peace, my friend.