Short-Game Master Runyan Long on Expertise at 92

The gallery that crowds around Paul Runyan has the quiet demeanor of museum patrons, inquisitive and admiring of what is in front of them.

Runyan, 93 next month, draws in his observers with a gather-round whisper of “boys and girls, come hither,” before detailing the intricacies of pitching and putting, elusive elements that have driven grown men to snap shafts in half.

Speaking softly but with sincerity, the 5-foot-5 Runyan demonstrated how, with drives averaging only 230 yards, he was able to win nine titles in 1933, the fifth most in a year in PGA history.

Runyan makes golf sound short and simple, as if the average hole is 80 yards. To him, it is.

“If you master putting, chipping and short pitching, you’ve got golf 65%-80% whipped,” he said Monday while conducting a mini-clinic before the Paul Runyan Golf Classic at Oakmont Country Club in Glendale.

Runyan has been crafting his short game since 1920, when he used to sneak away from dairy-farm chores at home in Arkansas to hone his skills at an adjacent golf course.

Runyan, who won the PGA Championship in 1934 and 1938, has advice for everybody, even the best of the best. He’d like to catch Tiger Woods by the tail and give him a few tips.

“He has a little too much vigor in his swing,” said Runyan, who would implore Woods to slow his upper body . . . and to stop shaking his fist after he sinks a clutch birdie. “He doesn’t need to be so vicious.”

Runyan said it’s only a matter of time before Woods passes Jack Nicklaus as the best ever.

“If something doesn’t go wrong with him and he stays healthy, his skills overall are better than Nicklaus,” Runyan said. “And Nicklaus’ skills overall are better than [Ben] Hogan before him, and Hogan’s skills overall were better than Bobby Jones before him.”

Elected to the PGA Hall of Fame in 1959, Runyan still gives lessons five days a week at a golf course in Palm Desert.

If prodded, he’ll look into the past.

He seems almost apologetic that he defeated Sam Snead for his first PGA Championship title, focusing on Snead’s woes rather than the sterling 66 he shot in the final round to clinch victory.

“Snead that day was not himself,” Runyan said. “He kept driving his ball in the left rough. I just happened to catch him on one of those days.”

Runyan won more than 50 titles as a pro, but he remains humbled by the sport. He remembers its ties to his childhood, when he would chase golfers’ stray shots and get tipped a quarter for every ball he shagged.

He and his father, Walter, a dairy farmer, would argue about the proper balance between work and play. Runyan’s mother, Mamie, usually had to play peacemaker.

“She stepped between my father and me many times when he punished me for going to the golf course,” Runyan said. “Ninety percent of the time, I milked more of the cows than he did, but he forbade me to go play.”

Runyan turned pro at 17 and caught on as Craig Wood’s assistant at Forest Hills golf course in White Plains, N.Y. Thirteen years later, Runyan defeated Wood for his second PGA Championship title.

These days, Runyan’s feet are sore and his left knee aches, but he doesn’t blink at making a 12th appearance at his annual tournament, which benefits cancer-stricken children at Orthopaedic Hospital.

“The game has been a gold mine to me,” he said. “I owe it.”