Little by Little, Jacobsen Gets Rich on Tour

Mimics as a class usually stick to the nice safe impersonations: Jimmy Stewart drawling defiance of the small-town banker; James Cagney going to the electric chair; W.C. Fields as the threadbare philosopher; Cary Grant calling Judy, any sitting President, particularly Richard Nixon or Ronald Reagan, Hepburn being Hepburn and Brando being the Godfather.

Those are the impersonator’s staples. But Peter Jacobsen wasn’t Rich Little, and he did impersonations of the golf greats. He could do Arnold Palmer better than Arnold Palmer. He could do the face-contorted, hook-blocking wild swing, the head jerking from side to side with the flight of the ball till you weren’t sure you weren’t looking at the real thing. He did Craig Stadler’s stiff-legged walk, hurrying in a rage after yet another betrayal by the ball. He rolled them in the aisles describing a round in the fractured English-Spanish of a Seve Ballesteros or Chi Chi Rodriguez. Show business lost a great talent when they put a nine-iron in Jacobsen’s hands.

That was all good stuff, but his friends and colleagues began to wonder why he didn’t imitate their golf swings--and scores--instead of their mannerisms. Who was laughing at whom? Jacobsen got the laughs, they got the money. He could imitate Tom Kite’s window-shade-going-up follow through, but he couldn’t duplicate it. Palmer’s swing was unorthodox, but his shots weren’t.

Peter starred in the tournament-eve banquets. His subjects starred in the tournaments. He wowed the rooms--then missed the cuts. He was outgoing, almost happy-go-lucky. He seemed to have trouble taking the game seriously. He was the game’s sidekick. The comedy relief. He was Gabby Hayes. He didn’t get the girl, he got the laughs.

Until this year. All of a sudden, Peter Jacobsen came out on the course like the second coming of Ben Hogan.

A man who had taken 18 years to win four tournaments suddenly won two in two weeks.

Golf was stunned, then delighted. Jacobsen was merely supposed to be Jack Lemmon’s partner at Pebble Beach in the pro-am. But he went 36 holes without a bogey. That’s like going 36 rounds with Mike Tyson without getting your hair mussed.

When he won at Torrey Pines the next week, the game was overwhelmed.

Now, winning two tournaments in a row does not guarantee you immortality. But Jacobsen, who didn’t play in the Bob Hope Classic last week, can step up to another level if he wins the Nissan L.A. Open this week at Riviera. Only 12 golfers have won three in a row. Jackie Burke won four. Byron Nelson, of course, won 11 in a row. But that’s changing water into wine.

Only the registered giants of the game have won three in a row. Arnold Palmer did it twice. Nelson did it three times. Ben Hogan did it. So did Sam Snead, Tom Watson, Gary Player, Billy Casper. Nick Price did it last year, the first time it has been done since 1980.

It’s elusive. Jack Nicklaus and Lee Trevino have never done it. Neither did Gene Sarazen or Walter Hagen.

Nor has Jacobsen--yet.

What has made the difference? Golf is a superstitious game. It is sure there is a secret someplace waiting to be discovered. What has Peter done? Gone to cross-handed putts--one-handed putts? Has he put a brassie in his bag? Added spikes to his shoes?

Jacobsen laughs. “You know how golf is,” he says. “A lip-out here, a chili-dip chip there, a slip of the foot on a drive, a camera click, a missed three-footer and you can cost yourself eight shots a tournament. There’s no magic elixir to golf. It’s relentless.”

So, he has made no dramatic change in his equipment or approach? Jacobsen shakes his head. “I got the same set of clubs I’ve used for eight years now.”

How about the golfer? Has he changed? It’s not visible on the surface. He does not come on the course wearing a frown. He doesn’t brush past autograph seekers even though they have multiplied in the last two weeks. He still is heard doing shtick coming up to the 18th green. He still looks like a kid who just got a new pony for Christmas. He’s as approachable as a used-car salesman. “It’s nice to be important, but it’s important to be nice,” he says.

A cynical colleague once summed up Jacobsen’s career. “He’ll always be a $200,000-a-year player. He’ll do his card tricks and go out and finish 25th in the U.S. Open.”

But Jacobsen (who has finished as high as seventh in the U.S. Open) has already won almost half a million this year--and it’s only February.

There’s only one problem; now he’ll have to put an imitation of Peter Jacobsen in his act. Show him holding a trophy over his head. Or kissing a check.