Jack Nicklaus vs Lee Trevino, Shell's Wonderful World of Golf
“What in the world are you doing here?” I asked Grant Spaeth. We were in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico on a family trip. I wandered over to see the newest Jack Nicklaus design, the Cabo Del Sol Ocean Course.
“Cal, great to see you! I’m down here to referee the Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf match between Jack Nicklaus and Lee Trevino.”
After a bit of small talk, Grant continued, “If you are going to be here for a couple of days, I need a forward observer for the match. Can you fill the job?”
“Absolutely,” I said. The luck of being at the right place at the right time.
Grant Spaeth was the President of the USGA in 1991-1992 and an attorney from San Francisco. I got to know him as a USGA Committeeman on the USGA Mid-Amateur committee. On his way up the USGA ladder, he was the Executive Committee member in charge of the Mid-Am. In addition, he was active at the 1993 Walker Cup at Interlachen, where I was the co-chair.
The USGA allows past presidents to referee Walker Cup matches and all who are physically able take advantage of the opportunity. Past president Reed MacKenzie once told me, “It’s about the only thing they let you do once you are out of office.”
Grant was a nice person and we had a good relationship.
We were on a spring break vacation with two of our three sons in late March of 1995, on the Baja Peninsula of Mexico. Cabo Del Sol Golf Course caught my eye in a golf magazine and, by chance, it was located near our resort. After arriving, getting settled and spending time at the beach, I checked out the highly publicized course.
The broken down cab made it’s way in unsure fashion up the wash board dirt road toward a cobalt blue, metal clad mobile home at the course. I paid the driver and exited the cab. The building was thick with dirt from the clouds of dust that billowed up with the arrival of each guest.
I climbed the two steps and entered the “temporary clubhouse” as the sign above the door read. Not realizing the closing mechanism was broken, the door slammed against the side of the mobile home, causing an already prominent dent to become deeper. I entered the sparsely stocked room with card tables holding shirts and hats featuring the Cabo Del Sol logo.
“No worry, senor, it happens all de time,” said a Mexican man with a bright smile from behind the glass topped counter. He was no more than 5’6, a bit chunky, with a dark, weathered complexion from many years in the sun. I guessed he was some type of supervisor during the construction of the course. His English skills and personality transported him into the “club house”. At 5:10 PM he was holding down the fort, not processing green fee revenue or clothing sales.
He wore a name tag stating “Jose” with “Cabo Del Sol” beneath.
“Hi, I am staying down the way, heard about your golf course and wanted to look around. Any problem?” I asked.
“No, no.. We have only been open a month, so look around all you want,” Jose said.
I walked out and up to the first tee a short distance away. The fairway flowed down a gentle slope about 600 yards to the first green with the ocean behind. The sky blue water set a stunning contrast of primary colors to the lush green grass of the course. Adjacent hills ran down both sides of the fairway, undeveloped and rough with milk chocolate brown scrubby grasses. The soil was gravel with wash areas formed following rains. It would be a big problem if the player missed the fairway with a drive. It had taken a lot of money to turn this rocky wasteland into a beautiful golf course.
I turned and walked around the building corner to find a patio with a mud brown awning over the top, four forest green plastic tables with four matching chairs at each. They were straight from Walmart. There sat Grant Spaeth.
“Ok, that’s great, I’m glad you can help me,” Grant said. "So here is the program. You and I will play tomorrow with Jack Whittaker, the on-air announcer for the match. Can you make it at 10:00?"
“Sure,” I said.
Then we will meet at 9:00 the day after tomorrow to go over the rules with Jack and Lee on the practice tee. The match starts at 10:30. You will be the forward observer. You stay one shot in front of play, spot where the balls go, particularly if a ball goes in a water hazard to determine the point where it last crossed the margin of the hazard. Any problem?”
Having attended two USGA/PGA four day rules schools, there was no problem.
“See you tomorrow,” I said and left.
Back at the resort some negotiating was going to be required. On vacation with the family and I would be spending two days at the golf course.
“Guess what?” I said, my voice full of excitement and enthusiasm. "We are going to get to meet and walk around the golf course with Jack Nicklaus and Lee Trevino!”
“Who are those guys?” asked my 11 year old.
Not a good start.
“And how is that going to happen?” inquired Sandy quizzically.
“Well, here is the story.”
I got the sales job done and the next day, clubs in hand, reported to the first tee. Jack Whitaker had already arrived and gave me a hearty handshake and friendly greeting. The story on his face made it apparent he had enjoyed a life of several daily cocktails. Dressed as if he was one step above homeless, Jack stepped to the tee. He wore a badly faded cotton crew neck sweater, once a royal blue. There was a small hole in the left elbow with evidence of several appetizers from cocktail parties on the front. Underneath was a sky blue button down dress shirt, the collar slightly frayed toward the front, evidence of having worn the shirt extensively without shaving.
At one point in their life his slacks were quite nice but not anymore. A lightweight wool, the areas on the thighs were a lighter green than the dark green of the balance of the slack. There was a hole in the back right pocket caused by the corner of his wallet rubbing against chairs as he sat down and stood up.
His shoes were badly out of style and poorly cared for. With one of the laces having broken, it stretched through three of the five eyelets before having been tied. Sporting decade old Foot Joys, the company would have been appalled to see him wearing their shoes and given him a new pair. Maybe that’s what he wanted.
Does this guy not have any money, I thought?
Neither Grant nor I said anything about his appearance, thus I never got any inside information on his dress. Did he have any money? Just didn’t buy clothes? Didn’t spend money? I never found out.
Jack was not much of a player but we had an enjoyable day as we looked forward to the next day's match.
“Come on over and meet these guys and let’s go through what’s happening today,” Grant said to me the next morning.
I stood with Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino, and Grant Spaeth for 15 minutes, listening, as he went through how the Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf Match would be played: stroke play, USGA rules, the role of a walking referee, mine as a forward observer.
Lee was light hearted but not inappropriate, Jack was Jack asking questions when interested.
Jack looked fit, dressed smartly in blue coordinated Golden Bear shirt and slacks, soft white, new golf shoes. White Golf cap with his Golden Bear logo on the front.
Lee was in pastels, color coordinated, but, with his physique, never looked quite as good as his clothes could have. He was sporting a blue golf cap with the familiar Sombrero logo on the front. Neither player was over 5' 10".
At the first tee Jack Whittaker interviewed each player briefly. Today he was dressed in a winter weight herringbone sport coat, decades old, a white shirt and red club tie. With his coat on he had to cook by the back nine, I figured.
We were ready to tee off. With no more than 30 people following, three of them in my family, I advanced down the first fairway into forward observer position. Even around the mobile home/clubhouse there was no publicity about the match. Nobody in Cabo San Lucas knew these two heavy weights of golf were in town.
The match moved slowly around the course with TV having to reposition for nearly every shot. The TV people were in control, thus there was nothing to be done to speed play and no one complained. Trevino entertained the crowd with his antics at every stop, a real showman. Nicklaus was always polite, not the comedian like Trevino, but chatted with the gallery and always answered any questions that were asked.
Trevino played well and was in control, as the course ran up, down and across the foothills and slopes in front of the blue Pacific Ocean, on a perfect day of high blue, cloudless skies.
Scrubby oak trees with autumn brown leaves outlined many of the fairways. Snow white sand in the newly constructed bunkers stood in contrast to the healthy green grass of the fairways and rough. It would televise well.
There was little action as the forward observer, save for Jack hitting his ball into the water hazard at number seven. I pointed to the spot where his ball entered the hazard, he dropped and played on.
By the time the group arrived at the 16th hole, Lee held a three shot lead. A 400 yard, downhill par four, slight dogleg right, with scrubby oaks scattered on the rugged hillsides. For the first time, Lee hit a terrible shot, a wild pull hook, headed far up the side of the hill. I watched as it flew over my head and marked the spot where it landed.
We climbed up the hill and after a short search found the ball in a fairly open but apparently unplayable lie, wedged in a three inch deep crevice caused by water.
Lee came up and looked the situation over. “Can I get relief from this?” he asked Grant.
Looking around at the area he responded, “I can’t give you relief this far off the course, Lee.”
“Ok,” Trevino said.
With that he took out a wedge and slashed at the ball not moving it. He slashed again and again it didn’t move.
I stood watching, thinking, does this guy not know the rule on unplayable lie? It was the dumbest thing I had seen from a good player, maybe ever.
He slashed at it again and the ball crawled out of the crack. Working to get a distance to the flagstick, he mishit an eight iron, finishing in the rough but out of the junk. From there he pitched onto the green and two putted for eight.
Nicklaus made a bogey and the match was even.
Out played in every phase, all day long, Nicklaus now had new life. It was suddenly an interesting match.
Trevino would have none of it and finished birdie, par, with Nicklaus playing one over par. Trevino won by two shots.
Walking off the 18th green, the television and Shell’s people congratulated each player and thanked us for the help. Without a locker room, Trevino moved a short distance away to change his shoes out of the trunk.
After getting autographs from Jack, I walked with the two boys to ask if Lee would sign their hats. Nearing his vehicle, we were stopped by his manager. “What do you need?” he asked.
“Just wanted Lee to autograph hats for each of the boys. I was the forward observer today,” I said.
“Sorry, no autographs today,” he said, Lee within earshot of the discussion.
“Seriously?”
“Sorry,” he said. And turned and walked back to Lee’s vehicle.
Isn’t it interesting how every interaction causes an opinion to be formed?
It was a fun experience as the forward observer at the Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf. I have been around Jack Nicklaus a half dozen or more times and have always found him to be a great guy, just as he was at Cabo Del Sol. This was the only time I was ever around Lee Trevino. In front of the camera, he is an entertainer. Behind the camera? Not so much. We headed back to the beach for the balance of our vacation after a wonderful, fun day for our entire family in A life of Golf.
