Dream Rounds at the Masters

My wife and teen-age son got a little tired hearing me exclaim in front of the TV over the weekend: “History, folks, right in front of us.” Maybe you have to love golf to share in the excitement of watching Tiger Woods’ record-setting, 12-stroke victory at the Masters, this country’s premiere golf event.

I wasn’t pumped just because the young pro was born and reared in Orange County. Or because his near-perfect performance came in paradise, which is how most of us who play the game view Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Ga. My reasons were far more personal.

That wasn’t Tiger Woods out there. That was me. That was every kid like me who spent his summers playing 18 holes in the morning, caddying for local business leaders another 18 holes, and squeezing in a final 18 holes of play ourselves before dark. Then putting on the practice green under the distant glow of a street light.

We dreamed of being Tiger Woods before he was even born.

If it couldn’t be any of us in the winner’s circle, though, how marvelous that it was such a fine young man. I agreed with President Clinton, that the best shot of the day was watching Tiger hug his father, Earl Woods, after his record-breaking score.

Earl Woods, who is from Cypress, has always been a major part of his son’s career. They’re reaping the benefits of their years of hard work together, off the course and on.

You’ve all read that Tiger Woods has picked up $60 million or so in endorsements. But dad Earl is doing pretty well too.

He has written a book, which came out shortly before the Masters, called “Training a Tiger” and subtitled “A Father’s Guide to Raising a Winner in Both Golf and Life.”

A few may snort that Earl Woods is a poor candidate to give fatherly advice, because he had three children from an earlier marriage who obviously didn’t get his devoted attention the way Tiger has. But that’s not fair criticism to me. Earl Woods acknowledges his earlier mistakes in the book. Whatever they may be, they don’t detract from the fine job he’s done--with Tiger’s mother, Kultida--raising this child.

Some Earl Woods wisdom may seem hardly worth the book’s $18 price tag, it’s so basic. But some of it bears repeating. From Earl Woods on parenthood and golf:

* “Be reassuring. You can never say to a child too often that I love you. A parent has to make the commitment right off the bat to put the child first.”

* “Make time to spend with the child. It is not always easy in this age of two-job households. But it will be quality time because the child knows the difference between thoughtful answers and offhanded remarks.”

* “Rebellion is a way of asserting independence. By respecting and acknowledging this, you can redirect these outbursts into positive experiences without stripping your child of his or her pride.”

* “Golf is a microcosm of life. What other game can you play where one member of your group is a plumber, another a doctor, and another a chief executive officer of a corporation?”

I take issue with only one statement in Earl Woods’ book: He told Tiger, “Son, the one-iron is your friend.” That’s the least-lofted iron in the bag. Friend? I’ve never met a one-iron yet that didn’t hate me.

Top Don: During my first week at The Times more than 17 years ago, my new boss, assistant city editor Don Smith, was on vacation. My second week, I was surprised to see the newsroom burst into applause at his return. I wasn’t used to that kind of family atmosphere at the office.

Those were the pre-computer days, when we wrote our stories on multi-carbon sheets of paper, called “books.” Just a week or so after I’d first met him, Smith called out from the city desk to all of us: “You’re writing too long. I don’t want to see more than five books from anybody today.” That would be 18 to 20 column inches of copy.

He and I didn’t have much of a relationship yet, and I was still nervous as the new guy in the room. But later that day I dropped my four-book story into his in-basket; attached to it I’d put about 15 empty books, to make it appear I’d written about 75-80 inches.

Before I could get to my desk, Smith, with my copy in hand, yelled out loud enough to be heard down the street: “Hicks, get your . . . back here!” By the time I’d returned to the city desk, he’d caught on to the joke and was laughing even harder than I’d hoped. I knew then I was going to like working for this editor.

I mention this because Don Smith, 71, who retired from the Times several years ago and lives in North Tustin, was honored over the weekend by the Orange County Press Club with its Outstanding Achievement Award. He was a distinguished journalist in Orange County for 43 years, 34 of them here at The Times. I can’t imagine a more deserving recipient.

What I eventually learned about Don Smith in my early days: He knew more about Orange County than anyone in the newsroom. And he constantly made clear to young reporters like me that if we were going to write with any success about Orange County, we needed to learn more about it--not just its politics, its cities, its changing diversity, but its history.

Each column I put together, I write as if I know two particular people will be reading it: my mother and Don Smith. I owe great debts to both.

Wrap-Up: Tiger Woods decided to leave his Orange County roots last year and move to an exclusive neighborhood near Orlando, Fla. It’s interesting that his new neighbor and closest golf companion became 40-year-old touring pro Mark O’Meara--who is also from Orange County.

O’Meara, who was a budding golf star at Mission Viejo High School, is a former U.S. Amateur winner, same as Tiger Woods. Woods, though, might not remember O’Meara’s 1979 U.S. Amateur victory. He was just 3 years old at the time.

Jerry Hicks’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Readers may reach Hicks by calling the Times Orange County Edition at (714) 966-7823 or by fax to (714) 966-7711, or e-mail to jerry.hicks@latimes.com