If Hogan’s your Hero, stop reading now…Martin Vousden tells all.

Thought for the Day:
Don’t interfere with something that isn’t bothering you

The Ice Man didn’t Melt
You would have to be a cynical automaton not to be moved by the story of JB Holmes, coming back from two bouts of brain surgery to win the Wells Fargo Championship earlier this month. It got me thinking about other comebacks from illness or injury and that, inevitably, calls to mind Ben Hogan and the way he recovered from a near fatal car crash to win six more majors. His total of nine puts him fourth on the all-time list (behind Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods and Walter Hagen).

In recent years, following his death in 1997, there have been many attempts to rehabilitate the image of Hogan and paint him as a warm-hearted, smiling, avuncular character but that is not only a gross misrepresentation but, as the Americans themselves might say, a crock. He was a dour, flinty, cold, unsmiling miseryguts who had as little to do with people as possible, and whose only words on a golf course were likely to be: ‘You’re away.’ There are, admittedly, a few people who were allowed to get close, and who can give testimony to his warmth but they are as rare as a Tiger Woods autograph and for most of his life, to most of the people he met, Hogan was about as warm as a hungry alligator. Mr Cuddles he wasn’t, and if he had gone into a bar during Happy Hour he almost certainly wouldn’t have been served.

It’s easy to see why he was so aloof. His father, whom he loved deeply, had the misfortune to be a blacksmith just as Henry Ford started rolling his model T off the production line in unimagined numbers, signalling an end to American dependence on the horse. Suffering from one of his periodic bouts of severe depression, Chester Hogan shot himself fatally in the chest just as his nine-year-old son, Bennie, was walking into the room. The quiet, reserved but happy-go-lucky and playful boy subsequently retreated into himself as a means of self-preservation and protection.
And while it is almost obligatory to admire and respect the man he didn’t make it easy to love him. He did soften a little after the car crash that nearly killed him, being shocked and overwhelmed by the tens of thousands of well-wishers who wrote or sent flowers, but on the golf course he continued to speak about as often as a depressed Trappist monk.

Tony Jacklin played with him once, towards the end of his competitive days when Hogan might have been thought to have softened a little. Jacklin’s verdict was: ‘‘I think he’s just another person and not a particularly nice one at that. He certainly doesn’t go out of his way to improve his image with other people.’ And when Hogan quit the competitive arena, he and his wife Valerie built their retirement home. It was pointed out that it had no guest room and Hogan replied: ‘No, that would encourage people to stay.’

Cliches are truisms
One of the oldest clichés in golf, or any sport come to that, is that if you get a lucky break you make the most of it, which is exactly what Martin Kaymer did en route to victory in the Players’ Championship. At the notorious 17th at Sawgrass in the final round, the German’s tee shot almost spun off the island green. His chip came up 30 feet short but then he holed the left-to-right breaking, downhill putt for par, which was just enough to let him hang on for a one-stroke win.
Kaymer is the second youngest golfer ever to become world number one – he did it aged 26 but his stay at the top was a brief eight weeks and since then he has been rebuilding his swing, in order to hit a draw when required. It’s good to see him back.

Not for Everyone
A less successful story attaches itself to Padraig Harrington, who hasn’t won since lifting the Wanamaker trophy at the US PGA Championship in 2008, his third major in 13 months. Known as the Tinkerer he has tinkered himself to 209th in the world golf rankings and there are few signs of a recovery – it has been a long five-and-a-half years. He still puts together a good round, or even more than one but is incapable, at the moment, of stringing four together in the same week. How long, do you think, before we start calling a prolonged slump a Harrington?

Thanks Padraig
If he is of a mind to be consoled by anything, Harrington might be pleased to realise that he inadvertently saved Justin Rose two strokes at the Players’. In 2011 the Irishman shot 65 in the first round of the Abu Dhabi HSBC Golf Championship. He never got to play the second round because some TV watching ‘fan’ rang in to report that Harrington’s ball moved an infinitesimal amount while he was replacing it on the green, so Harrington was disqualified (having signed for an incorrect scorecard). The rule makers appreciated it was a draconian punishment for an offence the player didn’t even know he had committed and it led to a review which says, in effect, if the only way of seeing that the ball moved is with high tech equipment, such as super slow-mo cameras, then there’s no offence.
Sanity breaks out at last.

Quote of the Week
There are two things you can learn by stopping your backswing at the top and checking the position of your hands: How many hands you have, and which one is wearing the glove
Thomas Mulligan