Sam and the Shark : Norman Has Not Won a U.S. Golfing Major; Snead Never Won Open

Greg Norman, the golfer they call the Great White Shark, has never won a major American tournament. He gets another chance at the U.S. Open on June 13. The Shark gets a lot of sympathy from the Slammer, Sam Snead, the golfing great from another generation who never won the Open.

It’s called snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Greg Norman did it in April in the Masters in what had to be the greatest crash since October 1929.

Norman started the final round six strokes ahead of Nick Faldo and finished five strokes behind for a dismal second.

The Great White Shark had played like a minnow.

Norman has inherited the shaky crown worn for years by Sam Snead, who four times finished second in the U.S. Open, a tournament he never won. All four times Snead was in contention on the final round, close enough to victory to reach out and touch it, but something--was it a jinx?--stopped him.

They called it Snead’s jinx tournament, but he did remarkably well everywhere else and had a reputation in the ranks of the pro golfers of having something close to a perfect swing. He won the Masters three times, the PGA three times and the British Open once.

Snead is the all-time leader in tournament victories. In the PGA record book, he is credited with 81 wins. He says the correct figure is 87. Snead grumbles that some years ago the PGA took tournament victories away from him because the winner’s purse was too small.

In a recent interview by phone, Snead said, “In the late 1930s, I won a tournament with first money of $2,000. The PGA canceled it. The officials didn’t know that, in the late 1930s, $2,000 bought two new automobiles with enough left over for a vacation.”

Snead watched the Norman debacle in the Masters on television. “I felt sorry for Greg,” he said. “I’ve been there. When things start going wrong, you begin to wonder what will happen next. It had to work on his nerves.”

Snead paused, obviously to add things up, and then concluded, “I don’t think Norman will ever win the Masters. He’s 41. He’ll be 42 next April. You don’t win the big ones in your 40s as well as in your 30s.”

Norman, unlike Snead, was not hexed by one particular tournament. Norman’s only victories in one of the four majors were two triumphs in the British Open, the first in 1986 and the second in 1993. In ‘86, he held the lead at the start of all four majors but salvaged only the British Open.

Norman has not won an American major. He has been second in major events eight times and has blown a lead on six occasions. He also has the dubious distinction of losing playoffs in all four majors. He has a career record in playoffs of 4-7.

Norman will get his next shot at a major when the U.S. Open is played, beginning Thursday at the Oakland Hills Country Club in Bloomfield Hills, Mich.

In all fairness, Norman has not had a taste of luck. He lost the 1986 PGA when Bob Tway came up with a miracle shot at the wire. In the 1987 Masters, Norman was defeated by Larry Mize, who made a spectacular chip shot to roll the ball in from outside the green. Norman was the leader in the clubhouse in the 1995 Open when Corey Pavin tore up the course on the back nine to grab the victory.

Snead also felt the pain of hard luck. Ralph Guldahl finished fast to top him by two strokes in the 1937 Open. Years later, Snead was playing in a major tournament when a spectator approached him and told Snead of an incident that occurred in the 1937 Open.

“I was walking in back of one of the closing greens,” the man said. “Guldahl hit a ball too hard and it flew over the green. But it hit me in the arm and rolled back on the green.”

Looking back at the almost 60 years that have passed, the 84-year-old Snead said, “That lucky break was worth at least two shots to Ralph, maybe three. Two would have given me a tie. Three would have made me the winner.”

Snead’s three other runner-up finishes in the Open were in 1947 to Lew Worsham, 1949 when he tied for second with Clayton Heafner, one stroke back of Cary Middlecoff, and 1953, a second to Ben Hogan.

He lost to Worsham in a playoff that left the Slammer fuming. The match was decided on an extra hole in which both men reached the green on even terms not much more than two feet from the cup.

Snead prepared to putt out but was interrupted by Worsham, who demanded a measurement to determine who would putt first. The tape showed Snead 30 1/2 inches away and Worsham 30. Snead was red-faced and obviously annoyed. He bent over to make the easy putt and missed.

Worsham sank his for the championship.

In the 1953 loss to Hogan, Snead was in close contention starting the final round. But his tee shot soared like a long foul ball in baseball and went out of bounds. He never regained his composure and Hogan beat him easily.

Snead’s career earnings totaled $620,126.

“The winner’s share in six tournaments today would easily be greater than my lifetime earnings,” Snead lugubriously commented. He was at his peak long before television with its rich sponsors ballooned the purses in even the smallest events.

The Masters in April may have left, at least for the moment, an emotional scar on Norman. In his next tournament, the MCI Classic at Hilton Head, he finished at 279 but 14 strokes behind Loren Roberts, the winner, who came home in 265. There was a small consolation for Norman. He finished one stroke ahead of Faldo.

Norman obviously was on an emotional roller coaster in the days after the Masters.

He tried humor. On a television show he said, “I cut myself accidentally the morning of the final round of the Masters and bled all day long.”

He ventured an analysis: “I made a lot of mistakes. My rhythm was off. I didn’t get the job done. But I can say I never felt tight or bothered by tension.”

He looked for consolation: “Why should I feel bad? I’m at the top in earnings. I’ve won $10 million and I’m worth $40 million.”

Norman’s earnings have gone into the golf stratosphere because of a remarkable run of finishes in the Top 10 in tournaments with healthy payoffs.

Nobody would question the fact that Snead and Norman are both rated all-time greats of golf. They both would be listed in a Top 10 lifetime list.

Despite his record in the pressure-packed Open, Snead was a fine money player in other events. He had a record of 10-8 in playoffs. Among those he defeated in overtime were Gary Player, Byron Nelson, Gene Sarazen and, amazingly, Ben Hogan twice, once in the Masters.

The Slammer also was tough to beat in match play, not no longer in vogue. For many long years, the PGA was contested as match play, man against man. It was changed to medal play or total score in 1958. Snead won the PGA three times, 1942, 1949 and 1951, when the tourney was still match play.

Charges of choking or that a tournament has a special whammy attached to it are easy to make, but sometimes hard to prove. The controversial word “choke” was heard and challenged in the clubhouse at a PGA tournament some years ago.

A thing to remember about a “choke” is that it takes ability to set it up. You have to be good to get the lead and set up a choke. Nobody notices a choker at the back of the pack.

A knowledgeable golfing man, Gary Fields, was in the clubhouse at a rich tourney when a contestant who had just blown a sizable lead entered moaning and groaning about his round.

“I choked,” he said. “I just choked.”

Fields laughed. “You didn’t choke,” he said. “You’re not good enough to choke.”