Death of a Masters legend
Did Cliff Roberts literally say that no black man would play in the Masters golf tournament as long as he were chairman of Augusta National Golf Club?
That was the rumor in the press room in the late 1960s and early 70s. After all, hadn’t the qualifying standards been adjusted again and again, seemingly to exclude Charlie Sifford or Pete Brown?
But Lee Elder qualified just after the ’74 Masters ended, and at a function weeks later in New York, where the ’74 U.S. Open was scheduled, Roberts and Elder embraced while others stood and cheered.
It was as if a burden had been lifted. For Roberts. For Elder. For golf. For the Masters.
Elder, who died Monday at 87, would make history when he teed off in the ’75 Masters, even though he would not make the cut — something he accomplished three times — of the six he played.
A quiet, persistent individual, basically a self-taught golfer, Elder won several times on Tour and the Champions Tour.
He was the legacy of men like Ted Rhodes, who in the 1940s and 50s overcame restrictions that now would be illegal as well as immoral.
Until 1959, the PGA of America, which ran the weekly tournaments, had a Caucasians-only clause in its charter. When two black pros were allowed to enter the Richmond Open — Richmond, Calif., near Oakland, not Richmond, Va. — an official came on the course and forced them to leave.
Elder knew. He also knew he had to play on the United Golf Tour, where in effect black golfers had their own league until they qualified for the PGA.
And he knew as he traveled from event to event there were places he couldn’t stay or couldn’t eat. It was the Jackie Robinson story a decade later.
It worked out well. Elder and his first wife, Rose, settled in the suburbs of Washington D.C., where a local Oldsmobile dealer became a sponsor and friend, and where some of the nation’s political leaders joined him for a round or two.
The 1976 PGA Championship was held at Congressional Country Club, and Rose and Lee Elder threw a party for contestants, a few media and at least one person who played an occasional round with Lee, President Gerald Ford.
Dave Stockton finished first, the second of his two PGA Championship victories. Elder obviously was also very much a winner.
You could say that by the time Lee played that first Masters, at age 45, time had passed him by, that he was cheated out of his best chance to win, but there was no whining.
There was just appreciation.
The days of struggling and threats from fans who sought to keep the status quo were in the past. There were black fans. The Masters would have an African-American champion, maybe the greatest golfer ever, Tiger Woods. Elder was in attendance when Woods stunned the world with his record-breaking first win in 1997.
How fortunate for the Masters and the game that the current Augusta chairman, Fred Ridley, a former U,S. amateur champ, chose this year’s Masters for Lee to be an honorary starter.
Lee joined Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player to hit the traditional early-morning tee shots that begin the round. He already was a hero to the Augusta employees, many of whom are black. Now he was a legend.
The only shame was that Clifford Roberts, who died years earlier, wasn’t there to see it.