You Need Program to Tell Golf Champions Apart

When the Tournament of Champions idea was first thought up by the Las Vegas pro, Howard Capps, it was the notion in a lot of locker rooms that this was going to be less a tournament than a complicated fivesome.

The idea was novel: Pit only the players who won tournaments the previous year against each other. But you see, back in those days, golf was an aristocracy, not an anarchy. It was headed by royalty, not rabble. The good players won tournaments in clusters, not one every two years or so. Byron Nelson won 18 tournaments in 1945. Ben Hogan won 13 in 1946. Sam Snead won 11 in 1950. Lloyd Mangrum won eight in 1948, and Ben Hogan won 10. Eleven times, you had seasons where one player won seven.

You could have ended up with a “tournament” for a half-dozen players. The good news was, you were getting recognizable silhouettes. You could tell the players from the caddies in those days.

But the Tournament of Champions needn’t have worried. Golf began to change. It went, as we said, from Who’s Who to Who’s He?! No one ever said, “Which one’s Hogan?” No one ever had to say, “Is that Bobby Jones?” But a lot of people had to say, “Is that Steve Jones?” People didn’t know Steve Jones from Indiana Jones.

In 1968, for the first time in its history, golf had 10 first-time winners on the tour. Within a very few years, that was commonplace. There were 11 first-time winners in 1977, ’85 and ’88. There were 12 first-time winners in 1979, ’80 and ’86.

You never had to worry about a full field for the T. of C. Even though it was the toughest qualifier on the tour, there were years you might have to think about teeing them off on Nos. 1 and 10 to get through by dark.

You not only had plenty of players, you had new ones each year. It was like a road show musical. The cast kept changing. Not only did you not have multiple winners on the tour any-more, you didn’t even have multiple repeaters. Guys couldn’t even win one tournament a year any more.

By 1974, the T. of C. had only seven repeat qualifiers from the 31 who teed it up the year before. And it was a trend, not an anomaly. Only 10 of the 33 players who were in last year’s T. of C. will be back for this year’s tournament at La Costa. The defending champion, Paul Azinger, will be back only because he is defending champion. It was the only tournament he won all year.

He is typical. There are 10 first-time winners in this year’s Tournament of Champions. Some of them doubtless will be making their only appearance in this. Somebody may turn out to be the new Hogan. But that’s not the way to bet.

The format was such a good idea, it has been copied by other tournaments--the august Masters, for instance. And it has normally had a marquee that reads like a Hall of Fame. Jack Nicklaus played here 21 times. He won five and was in a playoff for a sixth. Arnold Palmer, Billy Casper and Gene Littler each teed it up in the T. of C. 17 times. Casper never won it, but Palmer and Littler won it three times apiece. Lee Trevino made it 12 times before finally winning it.

It has been customary to watch this tournament for the emergence of the new guard in golf. After all, it was in the T. of C. that Littler first served notice he was going into the Hall of Fame. If Greg Norman is ever going to put together the kind of year that separates the greats from the guests, he will have to start here. It’s a barometer tournament. In theory, it pits the best against the best.

We don’t have the Nicklauses, Palmers or Trevinos abroad on these fairways any more, except maybe in the senior division. We don’t even have a Curtis Strange, who was supposed to be the latest in heir-apparents. We will have a Tom Kite making his 12th appearance, a Ben Crenshaw making his 11th, a Lanny Wadkins making his 12th.

We will have 31 other players. Howard Capps’ idea has never foundered for lack of eligibles. Golf became a democracy just in time for his audacious scheme. If it’s ever going to become a monarchy or even an oligarchy again, it will have to start here. If 1991 is going to have a plumed knight on a white horse, if we are ever going to have the-player-you-have-to-beat week after week, chances are he will show his hand here. One thing’s for sure: The T. of C. by its very nature can never produce the headline: “Unknown Wins Tournament.” It’s about time the sport had a household--instead of a how’s-that?--name again.