The “It” Moment
When defending champion Sherry Herman gave her speech at the Players Dinner on Thursday, she talked about the “It” moment, that intangible something her husband, Ben Herman, used to hit a home run in a softball game with men on base and two out in the bottom of the ninth. In her second-round match against Noreen Mohler , Herman’s “It” moment came on the 15th hole. Mohler hit her approach shot tight, to about three feet. Herman’s approach was 10 feet from the hole. Herman was 2 up. It seemed assured that Mohler would make her 3-footer for a birdie and, if Herman missed, she’d be just 1 up with three holes to play. Herman studied the putt, stroked it, and the ball fell into the hole. Birdie. Mohler made her own birdie and Herman went to the 16th tee, 2 up. She won the match on the 16th. Every match has an “It” moment – that point where the tide of the match could turn, that one shot that simply must be made to assure a victory. It’s the most exciting point of the match. Those of us who are spectators walk along, watching the drama build, to see that one, special moment that epitomizes match play. The bottom of the ninth. The serve at 40-love. The ball on the 20 yard line with 30 seconds to play. The “It” moments. -- Rhonda Glenn
Florida Daze
The Orange Blossom circuit began in the early 1920s. The big resort hotels could fill rooms and entertain guests with these women’s amateur tournaments. The array of players is astounding: Glenna Collett Vare, Virginia Van Wie, Marion Miley, Patty Berg, Babe Zaharias and many more. The late Polly Riley told me that at one time, ten tournaments were on the Florida schedule – from the International Mixed Foursomes at the posh Everglades Club in Palm Beach, to the Biltmore Invitational on the west coast, to the Doherty at the Miami-Biltmore. The golf was good, the parties frequent. It was also exhausting. One player told of trying to lose in the Palm Beach Championship consolation flight at the Breakers, ruled by the doughty Bessie Fenn, one of the first women pros. The players were so tired they’d roll dice in the locker room before they played, then write numbers on their scorecards that corresponded with whether they won the dice hand. They’d play the first four holes, leave their clubs behind the shrubbery on County Road, stroll to Testa’s for martinis, sign their scorecards, and come back to play the last hole, reporting their “score” for the matches. The practice stopped when Bessie found out about it and they returned to find her standing with their golf bags. The Florida circuit today has only four events, but it’s still fun to play. -- Rhonda Glenn
Sweethearts
There’s a lot of power in this field. It seems as if every player has won a lot of tournaments or runs a big business. Not many are like Mrs. George Wilcox. I don’t know that Ruth Wilcox accomplished much, but she was a presence in the 1960s. She seemed to have been around forever because she was up there in years. Mrs. Wilcox was about 5’2” and overweight. She had graying black hair and big, horned-rim eyeglasses. She also had George Wilcox. Her husband was a big guy, about 6’2”, rotund, full of enthusiasm, and he adored Ruth Wilcox. She’d play in Florida, then hit the big summer events. George grinned at her from the sidelines like a man on his honeymoon. You just believed that he still saw her as a young sprite whose feistiness had attracted him long ago. They stuck to themselves, didn’t socialize much and seemed terrifically happy. If she made a long putt, she’d kick her leg in the air or wave her arm. For George. He’d stand in the trees, smiling with delight, applauding her good shots. As far as her game, Ruth hit the ball solidly but not far. She was a great competitor. You had to watch out. She could sneak in and flatten a champion in a match, just popping the ball down the middle. A friend of mine who was U.S. Women’s Amateur champion at the time got beaten by Ruth Wilcox in the Women’s Western Amateur. My friend was devastated. George grinned throughout the match. -- Rhonda Glenn