Life Is Now Chip Shot to Golfer Beck : Tournament: The man who matched Geiberger’s 59 will play in this weekend’s Shark Shootout.

There Chip Beck stood, for maybe the 1,000th time, staring at a three-foot putt.

It was long enough to miss but too important not to make. Sink it and Beck’s name would be entered into the record book alongside Al Geiberger’s, the only golfer to shoot a 59 for 18 holes in a PGA tournament. Geiberger’s record had stood for 14 years.

Beck’s knees began to shake. Simply put, he was nervous as hell.

He walked away from the putt, over to the side of the green, and tried to stop his mind from racing. He went through his pre-shot routine, just trying to trust it. And when he finally hit the ball, he thought he had pushed it. But it caught the edge of the hole and dropped in.

“I knew it would happen sometime, that someone would shoot 59, because the technology is so advanced now,” Beck said Tuesday, of his record-tying round Oct. 11 at the Las Vegas Invitational. “People have really been thrilled by that 59. What I hope is that I can remember what I did at the end, how I pulled myself together, and use it in the future.”

Beck, 35, doesn’t need or want to share Geiberger’s nickname, “Mr. 59.” In Beck’s 13 years on the PGA Tour, he has carved his own niche as more of a “Mr. Positive.” He has an uncanny ability to avoid being at the center of controversy, even when he is the subject of it.

At this year’s Ryder Cup, for example, Beck violated the rules by teeing off with the wrong ball in an alternate-ball match with partner Paul Azinger against Seve Ballesteros and Jose Maria Olazabal. It was Beck’s idea to use Azinger’s ball, although he didn’t know he was violating a rule.

And Beck started the friction between the teams earlier in the round when he asked officials to keep an eye on the opposing team for what Beck thought might be rule violations. But Azinger’s anger at the fiery Ballesteros on the 10th tee, and their verbal salvos that followed, will be remembered. Not Beck.

And the choice of Beck for the Ryder Cup team, over more qualified golfers, managed to avoid controversy. Another pick by captain Dave Stockton, Raymond Floyd, was questioned.

“That is interesting, isn’t it?” Beck said at the Sherwood Country Club in Thousand Oaks, where he is scheduled to play in Greg Norman’s tournament, the Shark Shootout, starting today. “It’s not that I don’t want to be involved in what is going on. I do. But I think the officials should officiate; it’s our duty to perform.

“I know there are some who perceive quietness and a non-combative personality as a sign of weakness, but in reality, I think it is underestimated. I see it more as a strength.

“I really do admire, though, the tenaciousness and the competitive spirit of Paul (Azinger), and I wish I were more like that.”

But he’s not. Instead, Beck is clearly one of the best-liked players on the tour.

“You’ve got to love him,” Peter Jacobsen said. “He has an infectious personality on the tour, and he’s always fun to be around. He’s just a great guy and a great competitor.”

Yet, for Beck, things were not always this good.

Born in Fayetteville, N.C., the eldest son in a family of 10 children, Beck learned quickly how to get along with others. His father was a dentist, and his mother, he remembers, was pregnant for 12 consecutive years, suffering two miscarriages.

Beck’s mother woke him up one morning when he was 10 and made him go to a golf clinic with her.

“I was tired, and it was 7 in the morning and she’s getting mad because I won’t get up,” Beck said. “She said, ‘Chip, you need to get up and try it, and if you don’t like it, it’s OK. All your friends are trying it, too.’

“So I went, and I loved it. And I never quit.”

In his senior year at the University of Georgia, Beck was named athlete of the year, the first time a golfer had received that honor at the school. “We had a bad football team that year, pre-Herschel Walker,” he said.

But the luster of his celebrated collegiate career faded when he started on the tour. Labeled as a can’t-miss prospect, Beck missed. “I got kicked hard,” he said.

His first year on the tour, 1979, he earned $4,000, lost his player’s card and went back to qualifying school. There, he finished second in his class, which he said helped reaffirm his golf worth, but only in spirit. He finished his second year with $17,000 and was able to keep his card, but found it difficult competing against players such as Jack Nicklaus, who had the luxury to concentrate on winning. Beck was thinking about eating.

“There are the financial pressures of the tour and being tied to sponsors--it took me seven years to learn how to deal with that,” Beck said. “I had all kinds of trouble.”

With an eye on the generous PGA Tour pension plan, Beck kept playing. His earnings improved steadily, and he allocated $10,000 to $15,000 annually toward his retirement. He did not think any job he could get would offer him an equal pension program.

Beck also had an ace in the hole. At Georgia, he had earned a degree in journalism, with an emphasis on corporate public relations, which he believed he could always fall back on.

Meanwhile, he fell flat.

“I was married and got divorced, then a sponsor sued me and finally got some money, “ Beck said. “It’s a woman’s world when it comes to divorce, and even though I have joint custody of my two children, I felt like I lost my family. I really never thought I would be happy again.”

In his first eight years on the tour, Beck never finished higher than 33rd on the money list. In 1987, he was ninth. But the rap on Beck professionally was that he was one of the best players never to win a tournament. Seven times, he finished second. Each time, this perennial runner-up would smile as he faced the media and patiently answer delicately phrased questions about why he couldn’t win, if he found it difficult to swallow or what ingredient he could possibly be missing in his game or his mind.

Then came the Los Angeles Open at Riviera Country Club in 1988, when he calmed his nerves, maintained his third-round lead on the final day and eventually blew the tournament open with four birdies in five holes to win by four strokes.

“I felt like I had lost everything, and here, finally, a light was shining,” Beck said.

That year, he went on to win again and finish second on the money list. His next tournament victory was in 1990, at the Buick Open. Yet, he refers to his real prize in life as his wife, Karen, whom he married two years ago. They have a 16-month old girl and expect another child in May.

“Karen brought me life,” Beck said. “She was raised with a solid foundation for being happy, just like me. She comes from a big Catholic family also, with seven children. You think I’m nice? Even on her bad days, she’s great.

“She’s gone through some struggles, too. I really do believe that adversity does strengthen you.”