Sadly, it’s for certain that we cannot change history. Respectfully, though, we owe it to ourselves to embrace a sense of decorum and study historical events concisely and factually so as to separate truth from fiction.
Such was the thought that consumed me when the story broke last Friday of Jordan’s Spieth careless and inexplicable handling of his scorecard in the second round of the Genesis Invitational.
With very little sympathy for Spieth – who stood tall and took ownership of his gaffe – but total support of a rule that is sacred to competitive golf and very easy to adhere to, the challenge was to ignore the parade of pontificators who would be aghast that millionaire golfers should be required to actually keep – and attest to – their score.
What carried me to the archives was this thought: It’s crazy to think that Spieth, who clearly made a mistake, will have a long line of supporters whereas Bob Goalby nearly 56 years ago was thrust beneath a black cloud for doing absolutely nothing wrong.
Spieth’s case was clear and dry. He made 4 at the par-3 fourth but signed for a 3. Now putting your John Hancock on a scorecard in which you attest to a score that was lower than you actually shot is automatic DQ. Fair rule or unfair? Argue amongst yourselves, but don’t wait for me. It’s fair and it’s a must-have rule.
That being said, any scorecard-signing snafu rekindles memories of what happened in Round 4 of the 1968 Masters.
The warmth of the memory is simple. Goalby was a giant of a man, one whose vision of the world was forever shaped by the fact he was born during the Great Depression. He never focused on what he didn’t have; instead, he cherished what possessions he was blessed to have.
"The old pros loved Bob," said Billy Harmon, whose family has been deeply connected in golf since, well, forever. "He was a pro's pro."
The coldness of the memory still is disconcerting “because people don’t know what happened,” said Goalby’s nephew, longtime PGA Tour player Jay Haas. “They think Roberto (De Vicenzo) won but got disqualified for signing an incorrect card so Uncle Bob won.”
If people have their perception twisted about what happened with De Vicenzo and Goalby at the 1968 Masters, part of it is owed to a media that felt the Argentine was a sympathetic figure and Goalby was some sort of thief.
Consider the April 15, 1968 AP story written by Bob Green:
“AUGUSTA, Ga. – There’s an ink stain on the left breast of Bob Goalby’s green Masters jacket. It doesn’t show. But it’s there. It always will be.”
Ouch.
Perhaps Green ate some bad pimento cheese for lunch that day. Or maybe he was a clairvoyant and knew De Vicenzo was definitely going to win an 18-hole Monday playoff. But either way his anti-Goalby slant was typical of the way people overlooked the facts and misrepresented the proceedings that April Sunday.
Billy Harmon with Bob Goalby at the Masters.
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To set up that Masters finish in 1968, the 54-hole leader was Gary Player at 6-under. Goalby and four others were at 5-under, while De Vicenzo – the reigning Open Champion – and three others were at 4-under.
What ignited the sympathy that Green and many others felt for De Vicenzo was the fact he signed for a 7-under 65, just one off the then-course record. Historical stuff is a huge storyline.
At about the same time De Vicenzo was making birdie at the 17th to get to 12-under, Goalby was reaping the benefits of a glorious 3-iron to 8 feet at the par-5 15th. He made that eagle putt (coming on top of birdies at the 13th and 14th, it should be remembered) and was also 12-under.
Overlooked is that De Vicenzo made his only bogey of the day at 18 for 65 and 11-under 277 and Goalby had a three-putt bogey at 17, then made par at 18 to shoot 66 for 277.
“I told Roberto, ‘I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,’ ” said Goalby.
Only things changed dramatically when it was discovered that De Vicenzo’s 65 was really a 66. Tommy Aaron, his playing competitor, had marked down a “4” at the 17th, not the “3” that had been made, and De Vicenzo had signed his approval.
No matter how many officials were called in, the decision was unanimous – the Rules of Golf had to be followed. De Vicenzo would go in the books for a 4 at 17 and a 66 – 278, good for second place.
“It wasn’t up to me to change the rules,” said Goalby, who didn’t deserve to be cast as a guy whose Green Jacket would have “an ink stain” upon it, a Scarlet Letter of sorts in the rollcall of Masters champs. Nonsense and so mean-spirited.
Had De Vicenzo correctly signed for the “3” at the 17th, it would have meant a playoff over all 18 holes on Monday. No sudden death for the lads back then.
“People for years missed that part,” said Haas, who always admired his uncle’s dignity and character whenever stories of '68 would insinuate it was a win that should have carried an asterisk. “He didn’t make a mistake and he played great that day. That’s what should be remembered.”
Goalby, who died in January of 2022, had an unmistakable presence for years at the Masters, always gracious when reporters wanted to talk about the scorecard snafu. He conceded that he had received hate mail from people, most of them under the assumption that had De Vicenzo signed a correct scorecard he would have won.
He wouldn’t have won. He would have been in a playoff. But why let facts stand in the way of anger?
“More people outside of golf got upset about it and pointed the finger at me, but (De Vicenzo) didn’t. I liked him and thought he was a good player,” said Goalby. “It was unfortunate for him, but I think he knew it was unfortunate for me, too.”
The point is, it never, ever should it have been unfortunate or uncomfortable for Goalby. He followed the rules, which used to mean something when we last looked.
