Grand Slams

The Overlook

By Tom Clavin

“The Overlook” appears every Thursday at tomclavin.substack.com. An overlook is a place from which one can see in several if not all directions, including where one has been and where one is going. If you enjoy the column, please "like" it and let me know what you think by commenting (check out previous ones while you're at it).  Likes, comments, and shares help with author “discoverability” on Substack.com, and all support is appreciated. Don't forget to hit the ‘Subscribe’ button – it’s free!

          I miss writing about sports. For the past two decades, I’ve had the good fortune to write and publish books on baseball and golf. Those were good experiences because baseball and golf are my favorite sports to follow. Close behind them are basketball and football. The stars just have not aligned to write a sports-related book since 2018, when Being Ted Williams, with Dick Enberg, was published. So, I’ve been just a fan, like most people.

          But it sure has been tough for me lately being a fan. There is a baseball lockout that I fear will postpone spring training. Hockey is curling with skates. The Giants and Jets are once again playing only for good draft picks (which rarely turn out to be good enough). The Knicks began well; now they are dazed and confused. A diplomatic boycott of the Olympics: Why? What does that really do? And the Sag Harbor Gym doesn’t offer the YES Network anymore, so I can’t watch “The Michael Kay Show” while on the treadmill.

          Just when I was about to head for the backyard bunker, last week there were two feel-good stories that will sustain me for a while. One was Gil Hodges being elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

          Finally, on December 5, voters on the Golden Era Committee agreed with what Mets and Dodgers and many baseball fans have been insisting for decades: Hodges belonged in the Hall of Fame. I won’t rattle off statistics here, but for them and the full argument for the Brooklyn first basemen, please get a copy of Gil Hodges: The Brooklyn Bums, the Miracle Mets, and the Extraordinary Life of a Baseball Legend, by yours truly and Danny Peary. One of the aspects of Gil’s life the book emphasizes is his integrity, which is one of the considerations for HOF membership. Kudos to the committee for finally doing the right thing.

          The other feel-good story came indirectly from Tiger Woods. After a quiet 2021 spent recuperating from a nearly catastrophic car crash, Woods emerged last week to do a couple of interviews coinciding with the tournament he hosts, the Hero World Challenge. Right before the tourney began, he posted a video showing him hitting golf balls. Normally, this would not be of much interest, but Woods being on a golf course at all, after an initial prognosis of possibly not walking again, was a big deal.

          That video followed by the interviews discussing his slow but steady recovery raised questions about Tiger resuming his career. The lingering physical consequences of the accident coupled with the fact that he will turn 46 in three weeks makes a comeback – at least, a successful one – unlikely. (No one will count the upcoming “hit-and-giggle” PNC Championship with his 12-year-old son, Charlie.)  But that at least got me thinking about the “Hogan Slam.” The 70th anniversary of it will be in 2023 . . . the same year, possibly, Tiger Woods might tackle major tournaments again. Why would he bother? Assuming he can do it physically, the answer might be ego: A winning comeback could well help him surpass Jack Nicklaus in the minds of many as the greatest golfer ever. Any good showing and especially a victory in late 2022 or in 2023 would be a huge international story.

          Ben Hogan, a Texas native, accomplished his fantastic feat after a devastating car crash. In 1949, he was approaching 40 and had won just three majors and was possibly going to be only a journeyman for the rest of his career. Driving home to Fort Worth after a Monday playoff loss at the Phoenix Open, Hogan and his wife, Valerie, survived a head-on collision with a Greyhound bus east of Van Horn, Texas. On that morning of February 2, Hogan had reduced his speed in the limited visibility ground fog; the bus was attempting to pass another vehicle on a narrow bridge, which left no place to avoid the crash. Hogan threw himself across Valerie in order to protect her. He would have been killed had he not done so, because the steering column punctured the driver's seat of their new Cadillac sedan.

The accident left Hogan with a double-fracture of the pelvis, a fractured collar bone, a left ankle fracture, a chipped rib, and near-fatal blood clots that would result in lifelong circulation problems and other physical limitations. His doctors said he might never walk again, let alone play golf competitively. He left the hospital in El Paso on the first of April, 59 days after the accident, and returned to Fort Worth by train. No high-tech rehab for Hogan: He regained his strength by extensive walking and, amazingly, resumed his golf activities that November.

He returned to the PGA Tour to start the 1950 season at the Los Angeles Open, where he tied with Sam Snead over 72 holes but lost the 18-hole playoff. Thanks to the combination of guts and determination and hard work, he won the 1950 United States Open 16 months after the accident. Red Smith wrote reverentially about Hogan in The Herald Tribune, “We shall never live to see anything like it again.” Actually, Red Smith had underestimated Hogan.

With a limited PGA Tour playing schedule — his battered legs could not take much play — Hogan went on to win the Masters and the U.S. Open again in 1951. In 1952, he played in only three events, winning the Colonial at his home course in Fort Worth, and tying for seventh in the Masters and placing third in the U.S. Open. But in 1953, Hogan almost had a Slam.

First, though, an explanation of what a Grand Slam is in golf. The term was coined in the 1920s to define the winning of what were the four major tournaments at that time: British Open, U.S. Open, British Amateur, and U.S. Amateur. The only person to earn a Grand Slam was Bobby Jones, in 1930. In the years after that the definition evolved to reflect the rise of professional golfers and the esteem given to the Masters, and thus the two amateur championships were replaced by the PGA Championship and the Masters. What remained the same is that for a Grand Slam, the four majors had to be won in the same calendar year.

Hogan won the Masters in Augusta, Georgia, in April 1953. He then won the U.S. Open at the very difficult Oakmont golf course in Pennsylvania. Then Hogan sailed overseas for his first and only British Open, at Carnoustie in Scotland, which he won. Hogan was not only three-quarters of the way to a Grand Slam but in 1953 he won five of the six tournaments he entered, including the three major championships.

Sadly, Hogan was unable to do it. Not only was there just a one-day separation between the Open and the PGA Championship, but at that time the latter was a match-play tournament, meaning each round played was between one player and another. There was less time to rest between shots and holes. In addition, the PGA would probably have been too much for the gimpy and pained Hogan to endure let alone win because it required several days of 36 holes per day.

A consolation prize was that after the win at Carnoustie, Hogan and his wife were passengers on the SS United States westbound to New York City, where he received a ticker-tape parade down Broadway. Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods were never given ticker-tape parades!

Hogan never won another major, though he played on the PGA Tour into his 50s. Only one time since has a male golfer won three consecutive majors, and that was in 2000 when Tiger Woods won the U.S. Open, British Open, and PGA Championship. He won the Masters in April 2001 but was not credited with a Grand Slam because his four consecutive major victories were not in the same calendar year. So, the achievement is instead referred to as the “Tiger Slam.”

So, at least I can be cheerful about sports . . . until this weekend’s Giants game.

Tom Clavin is the bestselling author/co-author of 18 books, including Tombstone, Blood and Treasure (with Bob Drury), and Lightning Down: A World War II Story of Survival, published last month by St. Martin’s Press. For holiday shopping, please go to your local bookstore or to Bookshop.org, Amazon.com, or BN.com.