Bay Hill has always been one of my favourite PGA Tour stops, dating to 1994.
That was the first time I covered what was then known as the Nestle Invitational. I was researching A Good Walk Spoiled, and when I drove onto the property at Bay Hill and parked my car – about a mile from the media centre; thanks very much IMG – the first thing I did was go in search of Doc Giffin.
At that point, Doc had only been Arnold Palmer’s right-hand man for 28 years. He would remain by his side for another 28 – until Palmer died in September 2016. My question to Doc when I found him was direct: “Is there any way I can get some time with Arnold this week?” Doc said he would get back to me.
The week was going to be a hectic one: the second thing I did on that Tuesday afternoon was go find Greg Norman. The late Bev Norwood, a rare good guy in the agent business, had told me he had cleared the way and Norman was open to talking to me for the book. I was also supposed to drive to St Petersburg on Friday and Sunday to cover first and second-round NCAA Tournament games for the Washington Post. The trip was just under 100 miles – not counting the walk to my car.
Palmer, though, was my primary target. In those days, even though neither played very much anymore, you couldn’t write a book about life on the PGA Tour without talking to Palmer and Jack Nicklaus.
Norman wasn’t an easy out. After he had finished his pro-am round (Bay Hill’s pro-am was on Tuesday) I introduced myself. Norman’s first question was the same one 99 percent of athletes ask upon first meeting a reporter: “How much time do you need?”
I gave him my stock answer, “About an hour.”
Norman, as Nicklaus would do later in the year, looked at me as if he’d seen a ghost. “I don’t have that much time,” he said.
“OK,” I said. “Thanks.” And, as I would do with Nicklaus, I started to walk away.
“Hang on,” Norman said. “Why don’t you come by my house Friday afternoon. We can talk then.”
Great. One important interview set up, one to go.
Sure enough, Thursday afternoon, after I had walked the golf course (and loved it) for the first time, Doc Giffin found me and said, “Can you go to Arnold’s on Sunday morning for bagels and coffee? He can give you plenty of time then.”
Seriously Doc? Can I go to Arnold’s house for bagels and coffee? If IMG moved my parking spot five miles away, I’d get there.
The only hitch was that I’d asked Mike Krzyzewski if I could meet him at Duke’s hotel Sunday morning to talk to him before his team played Michigan State that evening. Talking to Krzyzewski early would make it easy for me to write late if his team won.
I called Krzyzewski and told him I had to cancel our meeting. Trust me when I tell you he wasn’t broken-hearted. “Everything OK?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine, but Arnold Palmer’s willing to talk to me Sunday morning and I have to do that.”
“So, you’d rather talk to a golfer than to me.”
I was tempted to explain the importance of the interview to him. I settled for, “Yes.”
And so, at 9 o’clock Sunday morning, Doc and I were ushered into Palmer’s house. Introductions were made and Doc said, “Arnold, you should know, John cancelled a meeting with Mike Krzyzewski to be here this morning.”
Palmer looked at me quizzically. “Mike Kachoosko?” he said.
“Jejefski,” I said. “He’s the Duke basketball coach.”
Palmer grinned. “Oh yeah, Duke. That’s the team whose butt we’ve been kicking the last couple years.”
He was right, Wake Forest was in the midst of a nine-game winning streak against Duke.
Gotcha – for the first, but certainly not the last time.
We then sat and talked for two hours. Actually three, because Arnold invited me down to his workshop while he worked on some golf clubs for an hour.
I was late getting started for St Petersburg and missed the start of the first game. I didn’t care even a little.
Source: australiangolfdigest
