He also makes six bogeys, but
one of these days he’s going to
eliminate the bogeys.”
“He did,” Jenkins said, “and
the sports world became a more
exciting place.”
Along with his loud, lovable
friend, Bob Drum of the
Pittsburgh Press--right to
Palmer’s face between the third
and fourth rounds of the 1960
Open--Jenkins belittled anyone’s
chances of coming from seven
strokes and 14 players behind.
But when Palmer drove the par-4
first green at Cherry Hills and
went out in 30, here came Drum
and Jenkins on the dead run to
the 10th tee. Relieving Jenkins
of a Coca-Cola and a pack of
Winstons, Arnie said, “Fancy
meeting you guys here.”
Jenkins could say things
pretty quickly, too, if he
wanted. (“I don’t suppose
anybody’s ever enjoyed being
who they are more than Arnold
enjoyed being Arnold Palmer.”)
But Dan caught Palmer best at
the close of his exquisitely
titled book, The Dogged Victims
of Inexorable Fate, when he
wrote: “This is true, I think.
He is the most immeasurable of
all golf champions. But this
is not entirely because of all
that he has won, or because
of that mysterious fury with
which he has managed to rally
himself. It is partly because of
the nobility he has brought to
losing. And more than anything,
it is true because of the pure,
unmixed joy he has brought to
trying. He has been, after all,
the doggedest victim of us all.”
***
Like every Texan, Dan loved
college football as well, though
his first novel, 1972 wildfire
Semi-Tough, was set in the
National Football League.
(“I always knew,” Jenkins said,
“that someday I was going
to write a book called Semi-
Tough.”) Dandy Don Meredith,
the ex-Cowboy quarterback who
made a foil of Howard Cosell
on “Monday Night Football,”
appeared to have memorized every
passage, sprinkling Billy Clyde
Puckett references throughout
his conversation (confusing
Cosell).
“What I love about Jenkins,”
Meredith said, “is he takes
himself funny but the games
serious.”
Jenkins held the classified
combination to all the sainted
college coaches, like Darrell
Royal of the University of
Texas and Paul (Bear) Bryant
of Alabama, mainly because Dan
was preternaturally resistant
to soft soap and had a nose
that twitched automatically at
any odor of the bull. “You see
that helmet over there?” Bryant
told him in the Bear’s office
at Tuscaloosa. “That’s Lee Roy
Jordan’s helmet. He was the
greatest hitter I ever had.
You look at that helmet real
close, you’ll see on there the
color of every team we played.
--------------------------
No gimme here? Jenkins and his
friends could create a golf
course anywhere, including
downtown Fort Worth.
“I always knew,” JENKINS said,
“that someday I was going to
write a book called SEMI-TOUGH.”