A Shark Sighting at Open

Not even Agatha Christie could have written a better mystery than the one about the vanishing white shark. Nor could P.D. James, for that matter. And when Sue Grafton eventually works her way a little further up the alphabet, somebody remind her: N is for Norman.

The last time I dropped in on a British Open, the god of golf was this blond player from Australia who was going to have more fun than Jack Nicklaus. I watched Greg Norman storm around some wind-whipped links in Scotland and win this tournament so easily, it was as though the rest of the players were using umbrellas for clubs.

That was the first major championship for Norman--and theoretically, the first of many.

But it remains his one and only.

Five years later, Norman is the victim of his own whodunit. He hasn’t won another major. He has lost them in such peculiar ways, there have been players, himself included, who wonder if he is jinxed. By this year’s Masters, where he missed the cut, Norman was so despondent that he spoke of not wanting to play anymore, and last week he blew a tournament with a 41 on the back nine.

Where’d you go, Greg?

Where’s the guy I hung around with for three days in Melbourne, zipping around town in fast cars, living life to the fullest? About the only hazard in Norman’s life back then was a protest at the Australian Masters opposing his participation in a tournament at Sun City, South Africa. In today’s new political climate, even that is no longer a sin.

Where goest Greg?

He says he’s gone down but has worked his way up. He says, psychologically speaking, he’s fine. He says his golf game is back in its groove and he believes the 120th British Open this week could be his.

“Yes, it’s been a down period, but is it so bad?,” Norman asked. “This is my first down period in 10 years. And I think it’s just about over.

“Just because of what I have and have not achieved, it hasn’t diminished any of my feelings for the game. I don’t write myself off the way a lot of other people do. I’ve still got eight or 10 good years left in me. I think the pendulum is swinging back. I’ve bottomed out, and things are going to turn around.”

Where exactly he bottomed out is anybody’s guess.

Was it when Larry Mize sank that improbable chip shot to defeat him in the playoff of the 1987 Masters? Some believe Norman never recovered from that blow, but what many have conveniently forgotten is that in 1990, when supposedly he was so far off his game, Norman happened to be the leading money-winner on the pro tour.

Still, Norman brought some of this “jinxed” talk on himself.

Having had his fill of joking about it, Norman revealed shortly before the 1991 Masters that his near-misses left him emotionally spent, so much so that: “I don’t even feel like playing the game anymore.”

He was just being candid, spilling his guts, but it left the impression of a basket case who might never get back his feel for the game. Norman seemed to have overlooked the importance of having done so well in so many tournaments. Losing those majors did take a toll on him.

If ever any evidence of that were needed, consider this: On the second day of the Masters, after he’d suffered through a miserable opening round, Norman rallied and broke 70. But he was still so distressed over his play that he packed his bags and headed for the airport--before learning where the cut would be for continuing to play in the tournament.

Tom Watson that day sank a birdie putt at the 17th hole to put himself 11 shots ahead of Norman. The cut at the Masters automatically includes anybody who is within 10 strokes of the leader.

Norman is, truly, a puzzle. He left Augusta, Ga., like a drowning man, even though it was the only cut he has missed all year. On the PGA Tour alone in the first half of 1991, Norman has won almost $400,000. And he spent the first month playing abroad, placing second in the Aussie Masters.

Yet he pulled out of the U.S. Open with an injured back, after having had top-10 finishes the previous two weeks. He says a compressed fracture in his back, which he has had since he was a kid, has given him an arthritic condition that acts up from time to time.

Earlier this month, Norman felt well enough to play in the Western Open, ostensibly as a tuneup for the British Open. He went right out and shot 69-66, looking like the Norman of old. But by Sunday, he found himself gagging on another tournament, losing a five-stroke lead with eight holes to play.

Either Norman is putting up another brave front or he has come to grips with the idea that being second doesn’t necessarily make him second-best.

He says he came out of the Western Open with more confidence, not less, and added: “I am pretty excited about playing again. My form is getting back to the level where I want it. I know what I want to do, and I think it’ll happen.”

And I think he believes it.