A Life Well Played

by Arnold Palmer

  Amazingly, I was invited back. Perhaps because I was being myself, and because I did mind my manners, for the most part.

  WINNIE PALMER NATURE RESERVE

  IN 2001 I PURCHASED AN undeveloped twenty-six-acre tract of land near Latrobe that offered sweeping views of the basilica and campus at Saint Vincent College. It would have been a great business investment, as I am sure that I could have parlayed the purchase into commercial development, having seen it happen with a large parcel of land near Route 30 and Route 981, next to Latrobe Airport and not far from my home.

  But I bought it for the express purpose of making sure that didn’t happen, something I did as much for the community as for my late wife, Winnie. Instead, we’ve been able to transform that property into the Winnie Palmer Nature Reserve, which has come to represent many of the things that Winnie held dear and cherished in her life and in this community that she grew to love as much as I have all my life.

  Anyone who knows me is aware of my appreciation for the natural wonders of the world, but Winnie might have had an even greater appreciation for nature. Winnie had served on the board of directors for Saint Vincent, and she had regularly expressed her love for the parcel of land that was available for sale from two local families. Having seen how the community received the aforementioned development, Winnie voiced her concern to me that the same thing could happen to this piece of property and potentially ruin the beautiful view of Saint Vincent College and Archabbey across the open fields.

  We incorporated the Winnie Palmer Nature Reserve in October 2000, less than a year after she had passed away, and Saint Vincent Archabbey donated an additional twenty-five acres adjacent to the property, a historically intriguing piece of land, as it turns out, as it was crossed by the British Army during the Revolutionary War. Now it’s used for hiking and recreation as well as conservation and environmental education. People can hike more than two miles of trails, and enjoy the various plantings, including an area to raise crops for research, and a diversity of wildlife and wetlands.

  A barn purchased by the monastery in 1919 and used for storage was moved and serves as the Environmental Learning Barn. Winnie would have loved that; she had an appreciation for barns, and she convinced me to purchase and refurbish a barn near Latrobe Country Club that truly enhances the landscape. A stone patio behind the Nature Reserve barn is at the base of the natural amphitheater and features an abstract sculpture designed by artist Julie Amrany of Chicago to reflect Winnie’s love of nature and reading. (She also was a longtime supporter of Latrobe’s Adams Memorial Library.)

  It meant a lot to me that we were able to get all of this done, and that we could do even more thanks to my good friend Tom Ridge, who as governor of Pennsylvania helped with the development of the land through a $500,000 grant that was part of the state’s $30 million “Growing Greener” program, the largest in the history of the state for environmental purposes.

  Since the very beginning of this project I have proudly served as the board chairman, and it has been a very emotional thing for me to see what we have been able to do as a community to preserve such a special piece of land. I just know that Winnie would have approved of all we have done.

  I can’t conceive of a better tribute to her memory.

  BUSINESS

  MCCORMACK

  MY CLOSE FRIEND and business advisor Mark McCormack passed away on May 16, 2003, but his influence on my life and career is still indescribably significant. Other than my father and Winnie, no one had a bigger impact on the direction of my life and the conduct of it than Mark did, and while I miss his wise, no-nonsense counsel, I miss his friendship even more.

  I met Mark in 1950 at a college golf match in Raleigh. He was the No. 2 man for William & Mary, and I only have a vague recollection of that meeting, which was no more than a passing handshake; I didn’t play against him that day. Our paths didn’t cross again until the 1956 Masters, and it was not a chance encounter; Mark came up to me on the putting green the morning of the first round and delivered a putter from Bob Toski that Bob had used to win the 1954 World Championship at Tam O’Shanter in 1954. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and then he was on his way while I finished 21st in my second Masters.

  Two years later, after he graduated from Yale Law School and was working as an attorney at the firm of Arter, Hadden, Wykoff & Van Duzer in Cleveland, Mark, a pretty fair golfer who competed in the 1958 U.S. Open, hit upon an idea to start another company called National Sports Management, Inc. The goal was to represent golfers in booking golf exhibitions. Mark had convinced Toski, Gene Littler, and a few others to join his enterprise, and that fall he arranged a meeting with a group of other players in Atlanta. Among those who went to hear what Mark had to say were Dow Finsterwald and me. I had won my first Masters earlier that year and Dow had captured the first PGA Championship contested at stroke play. We liked what we heard, and Mark arranged a few exhibitions for me in 1959 for fees ranging from $350 to $500.

  At the end of the year Mark and I had a conversation that changed both our lives and the larger world of professional sports. I had found myself faced with more business opportunities that I didn’t have the time or expertise to delve into properly. I asked Mark if he would manage me exclusively. We shook hands and off we went.

  Well, that’s the myth. What really happened is that Mark balked at the idea, admitting there were areas of the golf/business world about which he knew little, and he wondered if his NSM company couldn’t better assist me. But I was insistent that he work with me exclusively. It was not an easy decision for Mark. He was also representing a score of other good players, including Art Wall, who won the 1959 Masters, and Bill Casper, who won his first U.S. Open that year. Fortunately for me, Mark agreed to my request, and we shook hands on a deal that was our bond until the day he died. Years later I reluctantly allowed Mark to add a few more clients, and he started with Jack Nicklaus and then Gary Player. He branched out from golf after that to sign Jean-Claude Killy, the alpine ski racer, and Jackie Stewart, the Formula One racing driver.

  In 1961 we formed Arnold Palmer Enterprises to better handle the myriad opportunities that were now pouring in after my 1960 season that included my victories in the Masters and U.S. Open. And soon after that came the birth of the famous multicolored umbrella, our signature logo, which we wanted to use on clothing, business stationery, golf clubs, and other items related to the business. I hit upon the idea after an unexpected source of inspiration during a brainstorming session at the Holiday Inn in Ligonier, Pennsylvania, one rainy day. We were struggling for inspiration when I looked out the window and saw a woman get out of her car and open a multicolored umbrella. Fortunately for us, Travelers Insurance, which also used an umbrella logo, hadn’t locked up the entire umbrella category. So the open golf umbrella done in four colors—red, green, yellow, and white to signify the various components of our company—became a worldwide symbol for Arnold Palmer and his business ventures. To further differentiate it, we had the umbrella tilted to the right.

  Back to Mark and me. The two of us proved to be a great team; we complemented each other. Mark was simply a brilliant person. In some areas, he lacked maybe some common sense as far as how to make certain deals work, and I did offer that bit when it came to marketing situations in golf.

  As our success grew, naturally Mark became a more sought-after business manager—he disliked being called an agent—and he created International Management Group, with Gary Player and Jack Nicklaus among the initial additions in his stable. The Big Three was born, and IMG was on its way to becoming much more than just a management company for a few golfers but rather a worldwide conglomerate representing athletes in all sports as well as artists and entertainers. In the mid-1970s, as Mark built IMG into the giant of representation it is today, he assigned my affairs to a talented and savvy Scotsman named Alastair Johnston, who has been a trusted advisor ever since.

  As time passed and we both got increasingly busy with our own lives, Mark and I d
rifted apart. There were times when I felt he wasn’t living up to his end of our handshake bargain, and I wrote more than a few pointed letters telling him just that. But these were letters I never sent, remaining in something I called my “X File.” In the end, I never left IMG out of a deep sense of loyalty—and a deep sense of friendship that never waned even if we saw less of each other. Mark, who in later years was ranked by various media outlets as one of the top five or ten most powerful men in sports, never flinched from standing beside me during some hard times, and he was instrumental in so many of the great things that occurred in my business life.

  Occasionally I felt stretched a bit thin, but that was my choice and not something that Mark was responsible for, except that he was doing his job finding and creating opportunities for me. And his decision to have Alastair looking after me still is a source of comfort and exemplifies all that was good about Mark, for he knew how to size up people and make good decisions on my behalf.

  On January 16, Mark fell into a coma four months before his death after suffering a stroke stemming from an adverse reaction to anesthesia, which had been necessary for an outpatient surgical procedure. The news was devastating. I had just seen him days earlier at our traditional breakfast meeting we enjoyed together every January. I was at Bay Hill when word reached me, and I was just about to head to Palm Springs and then eventually to Hawaii for the Senior Skins Game. Mark’s medical condition weighed heavily on me throughout that trip. I could not believe something like that could have happened to him, and, sadly, his condition never improved.

  When Mark died, it was only natural that the press wanted my reaction and a few words. Those words didn’t come easily, and trying to sum up what Mark had meant to me was impossible. But I tried, and I leave you with the words I chose then: “I have lost one of my closest friends, and the world of sports and entertainment has lost one of its giants. I never had a moment’s regret or misgiving about placing much of the guidance of my future in his hands, and it certainly proved to be the right thing for both of us.”

  VERSATILITY

  IF I COULD PICK A year where my golf and business seemed to be riding a crest at about the same time, it might be 1967. I didn’t win a major that year, and, in fact, after finishing fourth in the Masters, I suffered another disappointing setback in the U.S. Open, finishing second—again!—to Jack Nicklaus at Baltusrol Golf Club in Springfield, New Jersey. On the heels of the 1966 playoff loss at Olympic Club, this was tough to take, especially when I shot 279, becoming the first man in U.S. Open history to break 280 twice. And I did it despite the first of many flare-ups of a hip injury.

  But my golf was still very good that year. I successfully defended my title at the Los Angeles Open, and won three other PGA Tour titles at the Tucson Open, American Golf Classic, and Thunderbird Classic. I added the Piccadilly World Match Play Championship in England and the World Cup individual title in Mexico City. I also teamed up with Jack to win the World Cup team title. The American Golf Classic marked my 50th win on the U.S. tour, and the $10,000 first prize that went with it gave me another milestone—the first golfer to earn more than $1 million. An interesting element in my L.A. victory, which included a second-round 64, was that I won using new aluminum shafts in my clubs. My scoring average of 70.19 for the year was good enough for my fourth Vardon Trophy as the tour’s scoring leader. The only other disappointment golfing-wise was missing the Open Championship to rest my ailing right hip, which would give me more trouble in the years ahead.

  But the fall was memorable as I helped the United States win another Ryder Cup, this one at Champions Golf Club in Houston. I went 5–0 for captain Ben Hogan, who decided that we would play the smaller British ball even though we were competing in the U.S. The final score was 23½ to 8½, which somewhat validated Hogan’s introduction of us during the gala dinner as “the best golfers in the world.” The Britons were rather sore over that remark. I nearly choked on my dinner when I heard that. The 15-point margin is still the largest in Ryder Cup history.

  The most memorable victory for me came in a Saturday afternoon four-ball match with Julius Boros against Hugh Boyle and George Will of Great Britain and Ireland, who birdied four of the first seven holes for a 3-up lead. As we were walking to the eighth tee, Hogan and Jackie Burke approached. Jackie was co-owner of Champions Club with Jimmy Demaret.

  Hogan said nothing, but Burke, a crusty sort, was ready to needle Boros and me. He said with his South Texas drawl, “I’ve been hearing about all those … charges you make. I’d like to see ya make a charge out of this one.”

  Then he issued a challenge of sorts. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do; if you beat these guys, I’ll build you a handmade clock.”

  A clock? Okay. I thought that was a bit odd, but when Julius and I made a birdie to win 1-up, I spotted Burke and Hogan standing behind the green. I said to Jack as I walked on by, “I’ll be expecting my clock.” A few weeks later my clock arrived with the letters A-R-N-O-L-D-P-A-L-M-E-R replacing the usual numbers on the clockface, and it still sits on a shelf in my workroom in Latrobe.

  As for off the golf course, I was very busy and things got much busier. In January, Golf Magazine published an instructional compendium under my byline titled, “The Best Golf Tips I Know.” Maybe that’s why I played so well that year.

  On January 9, I was one of eight inaugural selections for the governor’s Committee of 100,000 Pennsylvanians, which was created to recognize people from the state or who live in the state who somehow distinguished themselves. Among the other recipients were Dr. Jonas Salk, who discovered a vaccine for polio in 1954, Thomas B. McCabe, former chairman of the Federal Reserve Board, and artist Andrew Wyeth. Whoa. Heady company. And then the following day my good friend, former President Dwight Eisenhower, sent a telegram informing me that I’d been conferred an honorary membership at Cherry Hills Country Club, site of my 1960 U.S. Open victory.

  Things only got more interesting from there. On the last day of February we opened the first Arnold Palmer Indoor Golf School, where I hit the first ceremonial tee shot. My hope was that we’d become known as “the Harvard of golf schools.”

  Also by 1967 we had more than 100 dry-cleaning centers across the country. How did we get into the laundry business? Sometimes I ask myself that same question, but it turned out to be another shrewd move with a push from McCormack.

  Mark had received a letter from former pro tennis player Sidney Wood requesting a meeting to discuss dry-cleaning franchises. Sidney apparently could talk a good game. Mark was very skeptical at first, but Sidney apparently had it all figured out, having gotten into the business himself while his contemporaries were retiring to jobs as stock brokers or insurance agents. Sidney’s theory was that if you knew your laundryman well, you would trust him with your business.

  The concept of trust always was important to me. It was the basis of my agreement with Mark and with all my business deals. But I thought it was a crazy idea. My business was golf. I told Mark, “People are going to be coming up to me in the clubhouse and saying I ruined their pants.” When I told some of my fellow golfers about the idea, they laughed. Dave Marr in particular thought it wasn’t going to work.

  But assured repeatedly by Mark that this was a potentially lucrative move, we pushed forward. We contacted George Strike, president of American Laundry Machinery Company, and started the Arnold Palmer Cleaning Centers. The centers featured a golf décor, like a golf course clubhouse, and all the employees wore grass-green sports coats. These cleaning centers, we found, were breaking even in an average of eight to ten weeks, far faster than the average competitor, who needed almost nine months to show a profit. I had become a dry-cleaning magnate on the simple concept that if two dry cleaners were in close proximity and one was called Arnold Palmer’s and the other isn’t, the Palmer shop has a better chance of succeeding based on name recognition and trust. This, in turn, Mark figured, meant that no field was not feasible for an Arnold Palmer franchise. Bet you didn’t know this
, but that meant even Christmas trees. That’s right, JCPenney made a thorough study of the possibility of marketing such trees for the 1967 Christmas season.

  Which reminds me of a passage from a Wall Street Journal story from around the same time that began: “Who can supply you with a complete golf outfit from clubs to socks, dry clean your clothes, put an ice-skating rink in your back yard, steer you to the right place to get stock certificates printed and then go out and shoot 68? Superman? Not quite. Arnold Palmer. He is a business unto himself.”

  The overwhelming success of the dry-cleaning franchises and these other divisions of Arnold Palmer Enterprises led to a substantial business relationship with National Broadcasting Co. The deal, which was reported in March of ’67 in several newspapers, but not finalized until later, entailed NBC’s acquisition of several of my businesses. In addition, I agreed to appear on-air exclusively for the network as a golf analyst and to help develop other sports programming. The arrangement, in which APE became a subsidiary of NBC (though I maintained control) seemed like a natural for several reasons, one big one being that I already had a relationship with RCA, which was NBC’s parent.

  My business ties with NBC have since ended, but I still enjoy a great relationship with the network through my tournament, the Arnold Palmer Invitational Presented by MasterCard. NBC and Golf Channel, which are now partners, share the broadcasting of the tournament.

  There always was a belief among some of my critics that I spread myself too thin and this cost me a number of golf tournaments. I’ll admit that for a time I didn’t prioritize my golf and business in an effective manner. Eventually, however, I managed to strike a balance, and this was a year that proved to me that I could handle all of my responsibilities in a way that allowed me to flourish in both aspects. It took a bit more discipline, which was another quality that my father always preached.