Word: par
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...third summons arrived August 4. This time we went to Interior's Passport Section. As my protectors and I arrived at the office of a Captain Sabry, one of them said: 'I was spit on only once climbing the stairs ; I guess that's par for the course.' With a face-cracking smile the captain demanded my passport, flipped through it and said: 'Your residence visa has expired.' I pointed out that it had just been renewed. Said he : 'I am cancelling it. You will get a temporary visa. You will leave Egypt...
...little Ben, 137 pounds of spring steel, didn't know his own strength. He slashed through three rounds for a neat 207-nine under par and three ahead of the field. In second place was good-natured Ed ("Porky") Oliver, of Seattle, who is heavy on the hoof but steady on the fairway. In the final round, Porky overtook Hogan and at one point was two strokes ahead; then he dropped back. On the last hole, Hogan needed to sink a 20-ft. putt to salt down the $2,500 first prize. But his putt curled away from...
Next day in the playoff, Hogan played like the champion he is. Crisp and determined, he was over par on only one hole, had nothing but 43 and 35 on his card. His 64 for the round was a sensational eight under par, and two strokes under the Brookfield record. Porky Oliver, with a lackluster 73, suffered the worst play-off drubbing since Bobby Jones trimmed Al Espinosa by 23 strokes in a 36-hole playoff in the 1929 National Open. Oliver joined the Hogan rooters, cheerfully shouted "Get in!" at Hogan's putts. They did, and Hogan became...
Muscle Memory. The first day Ben fired a 67 (four under par) and was tied for the lead. The tension seemed to sharpen rather than scuttle his game ("Keeps me awake"). Carefully, before each shot, he went over it in his mind, a trick to get "the tempo" of the stroke, in effect making the shot before he hit the ball. He calls it "muscle memory...
...Grand Tour was under way again-that great annual pilgrimage which almost since the Revolution has led Americans back to Europe at the command of fashion, war or undefined nostalgia. Well over 200,000 Americans were expected to go to Europe this summer, nearly on a par with the best prewar years, and as many as the reduced Atlantic fleet could carry. Ships of all sizes and registries were booked to capacity, and on the vastly expanded airlines space was going fast. Europe feverishly offered up its beauties in exchange for dollars, announced special rations to keep well-fed Americans...