Ben Hogan's Triumph of the Spirit
Good morning, it’s June 11. This date in U.S. history reminds Americans of the admirable nature of inner fortitude and perseverance.
One hundred years ago, Vince Lombardi was born in Brooklyn, N.Y. The great football coach is remembered for, among other things, the aphorism “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing,” posted in his locker room.
But Lombardi didn’t coin the slogan, which first appeared publicly in an obscure 1953 sports movie starring John Wayne. The phase apparently came from UCLA football coach Red Sanders. It’s an impossible mantra anyway, as Lombardi acknowledged in a 1962 Esquire interview by toning it down to “Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is!”
That’s a healthier sentiment, one epitomized on this day in 1950 by golfing great Ben Hogan at the U.S. Open.
William Ben Hogan was born in 1912 in the central Texas town of Dublin within months of Sam Snead and Byron Nelson. This triumvirate would virtually rule golf for decades, but in Hogan’s case it was hardly foreordained.
He went about 5 foot 7 inches and 135 pounds and grew up very poor. His father’s suicide when Ben was 9 plunged the Hogans into poverty. Ben’s exposure to golf came when he caddied to make money for his family. But the boy took to the game, dropped out of high school to pursue it professionally, and quickly found himself as a teenager vying with fellow Texan Byron Nelson for junior championships.
Today, Ben Hogan’s classic swing is still studied by golf instructors, but its explosive power was acquired by hard work more than natural athleticism. Hogan practiced until his hands were cracked and blistered, and he didn’t win his first major tournament until he was 28 years old. Then he didn’t stop winning them.
Aloof with the public and sportswriters alike, Hogan was not as popular as Nelson or Snead, but he was an even better golfer. In 1948, at a time when players on the tour drove themselves from event to event, Ben Hogan won 10 tournaments. Then, in February 1949, on a foggy stretch of road in West Texas, Hogan was driving with his wife Valerie when a Greyhound bus passed a slow-moving truck and plowed into Hogan’s car head-on.
In an instant – as his vehicle’s engine was shoved into the passengers' compartment – Hogan threw himself across his wife’s lap in an effort to save her. This split-second gambit probably saved both their lives: Valerie was not seriously injured, and Hogan survived. But the crash broke Hogan’s collarbone, ankle, one of his ribs, and resulted in a double fracture of his pelvis.
In the hospital, blood clots from his mashed legs threatened his life. He was saved by emergency surgery but doctors tied off surrounding veins to prevent further clots, which atrophied his legs. Hogan was told he might never walk again, let alone play professionally. He handled that the same way he handled his father’s suicide: with stoicism - and golf.
Baby steps in the hospital corridors led to gingerly performed practice swings with a golf club at home. Amazingly, by January 1950, he was back on the tour, competing in the Los Angeles Open - on the course where he’d won the U.S. Open in 1948.
Defying predictions, Hogan tied Sam Snead after 72 holes – and four days of walking – then losing in a playoff. Convinced he could compete at his former level, Hogan entered the U.S. Open that June, which was held in Merion Golf Club in Ardmore, Pa., the same place it will be played this week.
Heading into the final round, Hogan trailed only 1946 U.S. Open champ Lloyd Mangrum. Rooting for a miracle – the crowds were now definitely with Hogan – some 15,000 fans followed him on the tournament’s last day. They were not disappointed.
His legs wrapped in bandages in the blistering heat, Hogan arrived at the 72nd hole needing par to tie for the lead, which would put him in a playoff with Mangrum and a hard-charging Philadelphia native named George Fazio. Hogan was up to the challenge, hitting a 2-iron to the green, and making his par.
In the ensuing 18-hole playoff, held on June 11, 1950, Hogan buried them both, shooting a 69, winning the second of his four Open titles. The taciturn Texan had become a fan favorite. A year after his win at Merion, a movie celebrating his comeback appeared, with Glenn Ford playing Hogan.
Acclaim didn’t change him too much, however, because Hogan never forgot the secret of his success. “I always outworked everybody,” he once explained. “Work never bothered me like it bothers some people.”