Trevino's game is the antithesis of the titanium-moonshot type of golf that has turned the regular PGA Tour into a drive-and-putt contest. The Merry Mex isn't capable of bludgeoning a 7,000-yard course into submission like you-know-who. What he is capable of doing is making the most of the skills, experience, and physical stamina he possesses. What's more, he's completely self-taught (that's one of the few things his golf game has in common with mine). In an age where most players are on the cell phone to their swing gurus after every bogey, it's refreshing to know that not everyone has to do that.
Back in 1995, Trevino was recovering from neck surgery that almost ended his career. His game was way down on power; he was hitting two clubs more than usual on a shot of a given distance, wasn't able to play without pain, and was talking about retiring. Nonetheless, he still managed to get his name on the leaderboard often enough to put a lot of healthier (and younger) senior pros to shame, by squeezing the most out of his shotmaking skills -- hooking tee shots to maximize roll, using fairway woods, and generally manufacturing enough shots to shoot some pretty good scores and stay competitive.
When Trevino won at the end of '96, it was a happy day for those of us who view the Senior PGA Tour as an enjoyable mix of nostalgia, personalities, and serious golf. His win at the Dominion gives us another recharge.
The Senior Tour takes it from both sides -- some people say, "It's no fun anymore, now that there's so much money involved," while others say, "It's a nostalgia tour -- the courses are too easy, and you don't have the best players out there." Gardner Dickinson, in his very enjoyable book, Let 'er RIP!, says of the senior tour, "They're not selling competition, as such, but nostalgia." He says the tour shouldn't let the younger guys in at all. Personally, I think he's just ticked off that he's too old to play competitively anymore. On the other hand, Harry Toscano -- who's still marginally good enough to compete -- is suing the tour because its rules are too restrictive and that they're biased in favor of popular has-beens, at the expense of guys who aren't as well known (or even never played on the regular tour at all, like Tom Wargo and Jim Albus, who were club pros, and Jay Sigel, who remained an amateur until turning 50, winning the U.S. Amateur twice) but who've still got strong games well into their golden years.
Sure, the tour needs to have room for nostalgia -- especially for popular players like Chi Chi Rodriguez, Arnold Palmer, and others, who may be past their peak but are a big reason the Senior Tour draws good crowds -- but their qualifying rules are unnecessarily restrictive. Come on, only taking eight people from qualifying school every year (the regular tour takes 40)? Dickinson's argument is that the reason people pay money to watch the tour is that they want to watch the old guys having some fun. Well, maybe so -- but what happens when Chi Chi, Arnold, Jack, and the rest of them inevitably decide enough is enough and that it's finally time to pack it in? There has to be some serious competition going on, too, for the tour to succeed on its own merits.
That's why it warms the heart to see Trevino win again. He's got the nostalgia/personality factor in spades, but he can still play with -- and, on occasion, beat -- Gil Morgan, Hale Irwin, and the other guys who should, by rights, still be playing the regular tour (and probably would be, if there weren't so much cash to be had on the senior circuit). At a time when TV ratings are down and the tour is wondering what to do while waiting for stars like Tom Watson and Greg Norman to turn 50 (and Norman, for one, says he's not going to play the Senior Tour in any case), Tim Finchem & Co. have to be thanking their lucky stars for Trevino's win in San Antonio.
Myself, I don't lose a lot of sleep over the Senior Tour's TV ratings -- but the fact that Lee Trevino can still win tournaments should make any golf fan happy. Those of us who start to lose interest, watching infants hit 300-yard drives and putt like metronomes, can take comfort in the knowledge that shotmaking, brains, and perseverance still count!
Copyright © 1998 John J. Kafalas