When Ben Hogan mastered the IBM Country Club

With this week’s Masters tournament unofficially kicking off another golf season, it might be of interest to revisit the day one of the game’s most celebrated practitioners visited Broome County. We are referring to the appearance of the legendary Ben Hogan. Part of the lure that attracted an estimated 2,500 spectators to the IBM Country Club on June 27, 1954 was that there was a bit of myth about the man. Hogan’s image was of a very tight-lipped personality who had merged it with an acquired skill, which had seemingly allowed him to dominate a sport that few had – or have – mastered.

Forty-two years old at the time of his local appearance, the previous year, 1953, “The Hawk” was at the height of his career having won the Masters, the U.S. Open and The Open. Only a 1953 overlap of the playing of the PGA Tournament with the British event prevented him from capturing the coveted Grand Slam of golf. Upon his return from the triumph at Carnoustie, NYC feted Hogan with a ticker tape parade, an event previously reserved only for the country’s most heroic figures.

Prior to playing the IBM course, the diminutive Hogan (he was only 5-8), shared some of his golfing secrets with the audience. “How do you get the ball to fade or hook?” one attendee asked. “Simple,” replied Hogan, “Turn your right hand grip this way or that on the club!”

And following the clinic and never having played the course, Hogan, paired with pros Toby Lyons, Al Morley and Aldor Jones, exhibited his mastery, shooting a 5-under par 65, having totaled but 29 putts. The Hogan round was aided on the fifth hole by a fortuitous rebound off the head of spectator Robert Gyles. Consoled by Hogan, Gyles said he’d settle for the ball itself. His wish was granted.

Reporter Robert Schreiber noted that Bantam Ben lagged behind his competitors as he trudged uphill on the IBM’s 14th hole. In part the man’s fitness was the residue of a 1950 near tragic automobile accident whose miraculous recovery became part of the Hogan legacy.

Always laser-focused, once the impeccably dressed Hogan reached the 14th, he drained a 45-foot putt. As he retrieved the ball, he uncharacteristically broke his concentration and winked at Lyons.

Another earlier story reflecting on Hogan’s single-mindedness related to a Masters round he played with Claude Harmon. Recounted by Claude’s son (who incidentally won the first BC Open), as the two departed Augusta’s treacherous par-3 12th hole, Hogan shared with Harmon, “Claude, I can’t remember ever making a two on 12. What was your score?” Seems that Hogan was oblivious to the fact that Harmon had aced the hole.

Hogan’s mastery faded as this writer witnessed firsthand at the 1956 U.S. Open played at Rochester’s famed Oak Hill East Course. There, his shot-making skills were still evident, but he would stand frozen over short putts. One missed, on the 17th hole ended his best chance for a fifth Open title.

No matter, those knee-knockers get even the best of us!