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Posted 19 April 2009 - 02:52 PM
So I went to a golf course and said, you can use this for underground sprinkler systems. If you will come pick it up, it’s free, all you want, but the pro can pay me back with all the free golf lessons I want. I made my first barter deal with Swope Park #1, who at that time actually had a head pro, which was their last one they had. This guy was a great teacher and player. He had been out on tour during the late 40’s and 50’s. Was not a star because he always drank too much and by this time he had become a total alkie. Nobody was taking many lessons from the guy with this being a public course and turning mostly black. He would give me a nice lesson, then we would go out and play 9, he would score 32 to 34, then in the afternoon getting into the bottle deeper, he would come home with a 48. Eventually his drinking got so bad and he was fired. I am out of a teacher and a deal, then I hear about the new course being built by Jug and I drive out there. We made a deal, right on the spot, he jumped on it.
I was taught how to play golf by first Jug Mcspaden and some from Byron Nelson. I was a charter member at Dubs Dread CC, and helped Jug with extensive construction materials to complete his course, namely the entire underground watering system for the course, which he repaid me for, by teaching me how to play, plus a free charter membership for life into his club, which was our barter deal we made. All I ever paid for there, was my cart rental and my food and bar bill. As soon as he got 9 open he began selling memberships and when the money began coming it he used it to finish the back 9.
The first club house was small; they used the old farm house that had been there. It was said when Ap left, he did not shoot a real strong round there, he said, all he did, was fook up a good farm. In the beginning, in the mid 60's, this was out in the middle of nowhere. It was all farms around it filled with cows. There was so much she-yit on the ground that when you drove up in the heat of the summer, if the wind blew right, it would gag you and up would come the windows. But once on the course, the area cow smell did not seem to wafer in. The driving range was really bad, the worst one I ever saw. But in time, there would be a new and proper nice clubhouse up on the hill, the fairways would thicken, the new trees would grow up and the place would take shape. The problem with the place was Jug built his dream course, for Jug. He forgot that his members would be hackers and none of them could play the damn thing worth a she-yit. It was just too damn long and hard for the average golfer.
Jug was a real man from the old school. He liked the ladies, but he felt they belonged in the kitchen cooking and in the bedroom making babies. None were allowed to play at his men's private club. He said, if they want to play golf, let them build their own women's club and not let any of you guys play on it. Our wives could come pick us up in the parking lot, or sit in the reception room, which was very small for us to come out. They were not permitted in our club, in our bar or dining room, and never, on the Golf course. If one teed off, Jug probably would have chased her down and shot her with is .38.
If you were not a 7 handicap or better, it just beat you into the dirt, it was unforgiving. The greens were huge; hell 18 was 55 yards deep. He had bent which he had Augusta National fast, when the other course was slow Bermuda. They were so fast, you could be 15' away and putt it 6' past with no problem. The first time I was on it I almost 3 putted every green until I got the touch of it. The greens were very fair, just fast as hell. It was the true, ultimate golf test for some sadistic masochistic bastard who wanted to punish himself for 4 hours. From the 7200, I never broke par, and only did shoot par a couple of times. From the 8101 tees, forget it, impossible. After a while, they took them out because nobody but Jug would use them. When you got that bad boy at 6500 to 6700, you had a chance on it. Over the years, as the course changed management several times when Jug sold out, that is what they did. They cut it down so the average guy could have fun.
My brother in law who was very long and wild preferred the wide open courses. He finally gave up on it saying you had to be on your AA game and be hitting the ball crisp and perfect, or you could not break 80 on the damn thing. After a few rounds there, he would not come back and play me anymore. It ate his lunch. When Jug named it Dubs Dread, he was not she-yitting you.
When I first ran into him, he was riding on a cat, carving out the fairways to be, doing most of the heavy construction work himself. I was amazed he knew how to do all of that. Maybe he just made it up along the way.
The gold dust twins.
Jug and I were close, very close, he later became like a 2nd father to me, and Byron could come to down, now and then and I would work with him. My hero on tour at the time was Arnold Palmer. We all loved that guy with a passion. Then along came that fookin Fat Jack and knocked my hero's dick in the dirt. God, that was so hard to swallow. I still today, have deep emotions over that era. But the more I studied Fat Jack; I realized how simple his swing was and his principles. He only had one swing for all clubs, and one grip, one stance. I began to study him and it really paid off.
I began to study what Jack Nicklaus was doing and what his concepts of the game were, in the late 60’s. I copied almost everything he was doing. Who has won the most majors, hitting it long into those very tight fairways at those US Opens? He did, and I think he is still the one to listen to. JN said, never try and hit it straight. Because you will rarely actually pull that shot off. You will usually miss it to the left or right of that target and you now just halved your true landing area. I learned to be a ball striker. I learned to move the ball around. I was known as a shot maker.
My preferred shot was the draw. I wanted length. If I am hitting it 300 and hitting wedges to most of the greens I will shoot lower than if I was hitting it 250 and then hitting 6 and 7 irons in. JN preferred the fade because he was a lot stronger and longer than I ever was. He was hitting a thousand balls a day when I was hitting 100. If I had his distance I would fade my drives as well. So you have to go with what you have and make it work. Jack was so long back then, they stopped having all the long drive contests before the event because he was winning every one of them. He was using the old dead ball and McGregor 945 persimmon head drivers. He would blow up 6 of them a year hitting them so hard they would come apart. I used the same club, and that never happened to me.
In his prime, in 1968, when he was called Fat Jack, my teacher and owner of my country club, Dub’s Dread in Piper, Kansas, and Jug McSpaden invited his old gold dust twin and former best friend and competitor on the tour, Byron Nelson to come in to show off Jugs new course he just finished. When courses in that era were 6500, the members played 7200, and the back tees were 8101. Jug shaped and tried to make several of the holes play like some at Augusta. Golf Digest proclaimed it to be the number one, then under fire revised it back to be the hardest test in golf. The outcry was just making something very long, does not make it great. Jug would play with Byron, and challenge the two top players of that time, Jack Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer.
The kids would spot the old men, 50 yards on each tee. When we set up the par 3’s, we had Byron and Jug hitting 2 irons in, but we could not see any way JN could get home. They were 250, 255, 260 and 275. He hit the first 3 with a 1 iron, and the 275 over water into an uphill elevated green with a 3 wood. I damn near died, almost had a stroke. This was utterly superhuman. There were golf writers at the time that were partly in fun, suggesting that JN was not human and from another planet. Another writer said he heard he was from the planet Zor. 12,000 people showed up and packed the fairways. It was too many people trying to get around one hole, it was worse than Augusta with Tiger leading. It was such a Woodstock mess, such a crush, many having nightmares of trying to get in and out of there, they did not return for the next year’s event.
It was such a success that the next year, Jug had out Ben Hogan and Sam Sneed to play him and Byron. He felt the fans would all love to see these old greats back in action. Trust me they could play. Byron was carrying his driver 270 in the air. They could all still shoot par off the pro 7200 tees. Jug told me Byron was the greatest ball striker of all time, which any green he could reach, he hit, and nobody hit more greens than him. He had this little dip down into the ball, and he hit all his irons clean, clipped them off the grass without taking a divot. He came from a lot of rock hard Texas fairways and there was no taking a divot off them which could become like concrete in the summer heat. Jug could play and was the first man to shoot 59; played in the first Masters with Bobby Jones he shot 69 from the 8101 tees as an old man. He was amazing. He never forgot his old golf hustling days when he had to gamble on the links to eat.
I would play golf with Jug and his head pro at least once a week and on any important match I would caddy for him. I always had to be careful digging in his bag because he always carried a loaded .38 in there, plus a flask. Those old golfers were a rough bunch, like pool hustlers today are. They would be puffin on a lucky, and be about half tight and still shoot 69. Jug was not real long, but he was straight. He hit great irons and could hit it in close. He was a great putter and a great short game. He could get it up and down for par from under a rock. The man knew how to score. He also had a beautiful swing which was similar to Byron’s, but without the little caddy dip as they called it at that time.
They all hated Billy Casper when he began to win; they felt he was being unfair. He did not drink or smoke, so he did not wake up with a hangover like them. He ate diet food, and not hamburgers and fries. They said, that was worth 2 strokes a round for him over the field, which they all felt was cheating because he would not become one of the guys. Most of the old pros came out of the caddy shacks like Trevino did, gambling their way on to the big tour.
What he and Byron taught me about golf, became priceless. But the next year the crowds did not come and I was shocked to hear most did not want to come out to see old men over the hill playing golf. They would only come out to see AP and Fat Jack. That was also crushing news to Jug. He was just ahead of his time, and it would take 21 more years for a senior tour to happen and become successful. Primarily because all the stars they grew to love stopped winning and the fans did not want them to stop playing. They just created an old timers tour so Ap could continue to be the big star.
Harold 'Jug' McSpaden, who died in Apr 1996 at the age of 87, was a leading golfer in the 1940s and 1950s, but did not enjoy long-lasting fame. He was closely linked with Byron Nelson, and they were known as the 'Gold Dust Twins.'
When he shot is best golf and finished the year with a stroke average into the low 69's, Byron won 11 in a row and was in the 68's. Jug came in 2nd every week to Byron. He said, if he had never been born, Jug, he would have been known as a great player.
Back to the Dubs Dread match, Palmer came up with a 3 wood on the par 3’s which he needed, and the crowd shouted him down and demanded he hit a 1 iron and kick that fat boy’s dick in the dirt. If Jack got on with a 1 Iron, so must AP. AP was one of the greatest strikers of the 1 iron since Hogan or Byron up to 230, but he could not hit one 250 in the air. Yes he tried, came out of his shoes 3 times and he came up short on all of them. The Fat kid, who walked on the course cold, with no advance practice, shot 69 and carried AP all day long and the kids barely beat the old men. I was caddying in the group and I was seeing where JN was hitting his driver. He was carrying it in the air, 300. In that era the other long hitters were 270.
JN was so much better than AP, or me, or any game I thought I could build into, right then and there, I gave up all hope of every trying to become a golf tour pro. I just did not understand that I was seeing the golfer of the century, of all time, who Bobby Jones felt the same way about him that I did, saying, he plays a game, I simply do not understand. Bobby said that when he used to hit 4 wood into 15 at Augusta, and he saw Fat Jack get home in two with a wedge. I did not realize that not everyone out there was that good. And, JN, would only show up 20 times a year, and there would have been 30 weeks I could have had a chance at. That AP’s putter would freeze up in his hands and his game would tank.
Anyway, I decided to stay with my sales job and keep golf as just my hobby. I did not have, what I thought it took to be a pro. I was in my 20’s. When I got into my mid 30’s, I found out I actually had the game to go on tour, but I was then too old at the time. There was no senior tour then, and by the time one came around, my back had been broken and it was all over for me. For me, this one, was not to be.
This was the reason we all hated that fat boy. AP was our hero, and JN was just crushing him everywhere, it was too much for us to bear. Rather than except this, we just hated JN instead. Some would yell out at the top of his swing, miss it fat jack. He endured all this she-yit, with silent dignity and simply outlived it all. The same thing later on would happen to Roger Maris. Sports fans, can be a cruel bunch of people. They hate anyone who is too good, who crushes their hero’s they want to and expect to win. When Roger beat Mantle to 60, we all hated his guts. The whites hated Hank Aaron for the same reason; they wanted the Babe to hold the record. They hated Hogan for that same reason, until his auto crash, he came back and then, they loved him.
AP’s putter would go south and his once magnificent game with it in the early 70’s. Fat Jack would lose the crew cut, the grim face, slim down, wear long hair and begin to smile. He would become cool. Learn to dress right. The Golden Bear was reborn and everyone then loved him, and AP as well.
http://www.kshs.org/cool/dubsdread.htm
http://agamegolfinst...-dead-straight/
http://vids.myspace....ideoid=11074084
click the pics to enlarge them, Jug is the man on the left, Byron on the right.
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