The Slam

The hallmark of Bob Jones’s accomplishments on the golf course will always be that he played as a gentleman. The Grand Slam came second. It is “that granite fortress that Jones alone could scale by escalade but others may attack in vain forever.” A forgotten aspect of the Grand Slam is that Jones actually conceived of the notion in 1926, fully four years before he went out and realized his dream. Bob Jones thought that whoever won the Open Championship on both sides of the Atlantic in the same year had achieved Emperor of the Game • Robert Tyre Jones, Jr. 97 the right to be recognized as the champion golfer of the world. When Jones did just that in 1926, it was hailed as “The Double Open.” It ain’t that easy to do. In fact, other than Jones, the Double Open has been achieved only by Gene Sarazen (1932), Ben Hogan (1953) and Lee Trevino (1971). But Jones did it not once but twice (1926 and 1930), just for punctuation that the initial occasion was not a fluke. Yet another feat of perhaps comparable wonder is the “Double Amateur,” comprising the American and British Amateur Championships won in the same year. Again an accomplishment by an elite few. Chick Evans started that parade in 1916 when he showed that both Amateur titles could be annexed in the same year. Jones did it in 1930. And Lawson Little won both titles in 1934 and 1935. Still another incredible “Double” is the couplet comprising the British Open and the British Amateur Championships. John Ball captured both in 1890 followed by you-know-who-Jones in 1930. You will remember that quite a number of other champions have won a combination of the major titles in their careers, but only Jones has won the Double Open, the Double Amateur, the Double British, and the Double American in the same years. All this points up the chief difficulty of the Grand Slam won by Jones. Not only did he buck up against “Old Man Par,” his adversaries and the golf courses, but also Jones won against a more auspicious adversary—himself. The self is certainly a worthy opponent, especially in a cerebral contest like golf. There are more hobgoblins and demons in the six-inch course between the ears than ever were confronted on the links. Make no mistake, Jones wrestled each one before the last trophy was presented. Thirty years after the original Grand Slam, the media struggled to fill the void left by Jones’s absence coupled with the stark realization that the Grand Slam was indeed out of reach. Sportswriter Bob Drum and Arnold Palmer then stirred the imagination of the Fourth Estate by concocting the modern Grand Slam. Palmer wondered what were the chances of a player like himself winning all the professional major championships on both sides of the Atlantic. “Can’t be done,” said Drum. And the race was on. Palmer came close in 1960. He won the Masters and U.S. Open and could have won the British Open except for the St. Andrews Road Hole. There’s always something getting in the way. Hogan strung together three pearls in 1953—the Masters, U.S. Open, and British Open. But neither 98 Golf’s Greatest Eighteen his legs nor his schedule could sustain him for the fourth title, the weeklong match-play PGA. Until Eldrich Woods came along, everyone began to settle for a cheap imitation of the modern Grand Slam known as the “career” Grand Slam. That list is growing, but to date there are no names at all listed in the “modern professional Calendar Year Grand Slam” category. So far, not even the best professionals can put the puzzle together, which again goes to show you that the “genuine Grand Slam” is a unique element of Jones’s genius and the prime reason why he truly is the Emperor. Since Woods’s emergence on the golfing scene in 1996, considerable attention has been paid to his purported full-scale assault on Jack Nicklaus’s assembly of twenty major titles in a single career. The sportsman’s hobby of winning lots of major titles and stacking them up in a mathematical race to the highest total is as old as Young Tom Morris’s four consecutive British Open titles and Harry Vardon’s six Open titles. Watson won a remarkable five championships and showed everyone just how redoubtable Vardon’s record really was. This major business was certainly not lost on Jones, who collected thirteen major titles in the space of seven years. Walter Hagen won eleven. Tiger has so far won eleven. Hogan and Player each have nine, Palmer eight. Vardon, Sarazen, Snead, and Watson each won seven total majors. By the time Jack Nicklaus was twentyeight years old, he had won nine majors, whereas at the same age Jones had won thirteen. Jack clearly has the upper hand in total majors, twenty in twenty-five years. But Charles Price extrapolated that “Jones would have been working on his forty-sixth national title at the age Jack Nicklaus won his twentieth.” But total majors does not an Emperor make. There must be more facets to the diamond than that.