Favorite Goes Out Fast in PGA Derby

Large circles of sweat darkened the shirt of the 60-year-old man at his belly.

His golf ball was in the weeds. His head was in the clouds. Not yet noon, and his day was already a bear.

“He’s trying to be a good son,” Barbara Nicklaus said softly.

The man winced, wiped his face, winced again. Five hours of wincing and wiping. He didn’t want to be here. A deathbed wish gave him no choice.

“You think you are ready for something like this,” Barbara Nicklaus said. “But you are never ready.”

Thursday’s round ended, and the 18th-green bleachers at Valhalla Golf Club shook with cheers, but Jack Nicklaus walked quickly away, hearing only the roar of the airplane that would take him home to mourn his mother.

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It is told often, this inspirational story of an athlete leaving the field to bury a loved one before returning to bury an opponent.

At the PGA Championship Thursday, one day after his mother, Helen, died at age 90 after a long illness, Jack Nicklaus told that story differently.

He never left. He could have quickly flown to Columbus, Ohio, to be with his mother’s remains, but he stayed with his clubs, his game, his conviction.

He hated every minute of it. He struggled to shoot a 77, dropping him 11 strokes behind first-round leaders Tiger Woods and Scott Dunlap.

But he played through, because good sons fulfill promises to their mothers, even when the sons are old and the mothers are gone.

“I had no desire to be here, I promise you,” Nicklaus said. “But I felt that this is what she would have wanted me to do. I think probably it was the right thing to do.”

Because amid all the cheering from strangers trying to ease this most difficult walk, Nicklaus heard only one voice.

It was that of his mother, during the last 10 years, time and again.

“After she got sick, Helen was always saying she was afraid she’d die during a tournament and ruin the week for Jack,” wife Barbara said. “She always said, ‘Jack, if I die, please play.’ ”

When Nicklaus initially learned of her death during a practice round Wednesday, only two days after he had last visited her, he discounted those words.

“He was ready to go to Columbus,” Barbara said.

But Wednesday night, he was expected at a banquet here to receive the PGA’s Distinguished Service Award.

Which got him thinking about what exactly was distinguished service.

He decided that making your mother happy--even if it won’t make you happy--pretty much covers it.

He heard that voice again. This time, he listened. He decided to stay.

“It will be a big day for both of us,” he said.

Thursday morning, Barbara was so concerned about his focus that she didn’t mention his mother during breakfast.

Just before he left the putting green to embark on his first tournament round with Woods--the greatest golfer of the last century playing with the greatest golfer of the next century?--Barbara walked close to him.

“Remember, bears eat tigers,” she said.

If only it were that easy.

Nicklaus had a bad chip and a missed short putt and took a double bogey on the first hole.

“You could tell his mind wasn’t there initially,” Woods said. “And with good reason.”

Nicklaus bogeyed the fourth hole. He bogeyed the fifth hole.

Even though his wife was watching and son Steve was caddying, the greatest golfer of the 20th century seemed alone as he walked painfully slowly down the fairway.

His father had died 30 years ago, and his mother had been sick for years, but apparently the feeling that one has been suddenly left an orphan does not come with an age limit.

“It’s hard,” Barbara said. “All of a sudden, you’re it.”

At one point Nicklaus stared angrily at the ground, and hunched over his bag, and there was a question of whether he would even continue.

But, of course, he would.

“His mother is watching right now,” Barbara said. “His mother is happy.”

Nicklaus recovered to play the next seven holes at one-under par.

He even managed a smile at the par-three No. 8, when his drive hit Woods’ ball near the hole.

Nicklaus held up his club. It was a six-iron.

Woods had reached the 166-yard hole with a nine-iron.

“I said, ‘Turn yours upside-down so it looks like we are playing the same club,’ ” Nicklaus said.

By the time he trudged through the final several holes, his shirt soaked, the jowls of weariness hanging from his face, standing ovations accompanied Nicklaus’ every move.

For the first time in the last several years, in a Tiger Woods pairing, Woods was not the attraction.

“It was a great day for me,” Woods said. “Everybody was yelling out, ‘Jack,’ not me. So I just kind of moseyed along.”

Nicklaus, of course, did not mosey anywhere. Near the end, he stalked and he sweated and he covered his mouth so the fans wouldn’t hear him curse.

It was the sort of day his mother would not have liked.

“She was not a real good spectator,” Barbara said. “One bad shot, and she was behind a bush.”

For years, Helen Nicklaus figuratively remained behind that bush, as Nicklaus’ father, Charlie, was given all the credit for teaching him the game.

“My mother, as mothers do in many cases, was in the background,” he said.

Not anymore. Thursday gave that to her too.

Nicklaus bogeyed two of the last six holes, then disappeared into the scorer’s tent while his caddie shrugged.

“You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” Steve said.

Today, amazingly, Nicklaus will do it again.

He flew to Columbus shortly after the round, but will return to Louisville this morning in an attempt to make the cut.

Nobody thinks he can. There are some who hope he won’t.

But his mother’s memorial service has already been scheduled for Monday, in case he does.

A boy still listening to his mother.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.