Word: golfed
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Eckstine, a modest, soft-spoken man offstage, lives quietly, when autograph hounds let him, with his wife June and his collie "Crooner," in uptown Manhattan. His one recreation is golf. He started playing last year, now often goes direct to the course from his last show at 4 a.m. He is already shooting around 85. One reason: he takes his own professional with him, even on trips...
Emmett Gary Middlecoff, the golfing dentist from Memphis, sank his final putt for a 286 and began his deathwatch. In the pressroom at Medinah Country Club, 23 miles from Chicago, he dragged alternately at a cigarette and two double-Bourbons with Coke. His wife, Edith, was weeping with excitement, and a friend was prematurely pounding him on the back and burbling, "Boy, you're the champ . . . what a homecoming Memphis will put on for you." Reporters were dispassionately batting out new leads about the biggest golf tournament of them all-the U.S. Open...
...better than par on the 18th, he gave a horde of newsmen one glum look: "It was that damned seventeenth that did it." Gary Middlecoff just grinned and paid off his $10 hedge-bet. With a $2,000 first prize and the prestige that goes with being U.S. Open golf champion, he could well afford it. Snead had tied for second place with North Carolinian Clayton Heafner...
...been a topsy-turvy tournament, played over a killing course in heat up to 96°. Six former champions (including Gene Sarazen and Byron Nelson) could not place among the first 51 at the halfway point and were eliminated. So was Jimmy Demaret, usually one of big-league golf's deadliest men. Middlecoff's winning 286 was two strokes over par, a rarity in this par-smashing age. The tall (6 ft. 2 in., 180 _lb.) Tennessean pro, who looks a little' like Baseballer Ted Williams, had won by playing safe; he was in the rough...
...ripe age for big-league golf, Samuel Jackson Snead was burning up the courses like a Virginia grass fire. He shot hard and accurate golf to win the Masters Tournament in April, and he was red-hot last week as he stroked his way to the P.G.A. championship at Richmond's Hermitage Country Club. In between times, Sam was warm enough to scoop up seven other prizes, boosting his winnings for the year to $12,610, tops in the trade. Unless something put the fire out he figured to have the biggest of all tournaments, this week...