Word: muirfield
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...club, when it touches the ground, nearly always form that invisible equilateral triangle so exuberantly eulogized in golf textbooks. During the recent European venture of U. S. professional golfers, he has been the direct antithesis of erratic unorthodox Leo Harley Diegel. On the careless hillocks and ridges of Muirfield and Moortown where he had his first taste of European golf, Golfer Smith generally had to forego his orthodox stance. In St. Cloud, however, the land's conformity did not interfere with his form. Furthermore, there was no wind, and the shimmering heat had baked the clay soil so that...
That is almost the whole story of the British Open championship which Hagen won for the fourth time (second in succession) last week in Muirfield, Scotland. Diegel had a chance, but Diegel, as he usually does, blew up. Hagen, cautious as a cat, steady as a locomotive, did not blow up. That is usual too. The British entrants, despite their victory as a Ryder Cup team over the U. S. one week prior, figured scarcely...
There was more wind than usual, even for Muirfield. The hats of spectators flapped off their heads. The golfers leaned against it when they were on the greens. Once it blew a Hagen putt, which had stopped short, the last needed inch. Several Diegel drives, starting too high, were shoved aloft, stopped, dropped as though they had hit an invisible cliff...
Because Diegel had been the most brilliant player in the Ryder Cup matches at Moortown, and because he is something of a golfing freak, the crowds at Muirfield followed him throughout the tournament. His swing is jerky, the face of his club twists sharply at the moment of impact. He lunges at the ball, moves his feet. When he putts, his forearms are parallel to the ground, the shaft perpendicular, the left elbow pointing to the hole, the hands within breathing distance of his stomach in a posture as of prayer. Few tyros try to copy his style, though perhaps...
...first nine holes at Muirfield is 38. That was Sweetser's score. Par for the second nine is 36. Sweetser's score was 37. And that morning Mr. Simpson went around in 81; so even at luncheon it was realized that the title would move across the water...