Several years ago, I was on the driving range at a golf tournament talking to then PGA Tour Commissioner Tim Finchem, who worked for President Jimmy Carter and Vice President Walter Mondale, before getting involved in golf.
“Better not get too close,” Finchem said with a smile. “If you do, someone can get both Democrats joining the golf course with one hit.”
Finchem was exaggerating, but not by much. The number of professional golfers who identify as Democrats is close enough to the number of players in the game’s history who have won double-digit major championships. (For the record, that number is three.)
I thought about it on Sunday as I watched Jim Herman fight Billy Horschel along the stretch at the Wyndham championship. I would never cheer against Horschel, who is one of the good guys on the tour. But I couldn’t help but feel that I wanted Herman to win because of him needed win a lot more than Horschel did.
Herman had entered the Greensboro tournament in 192nd place on the FedEx Cup points list, miles away from being one of the top 125 who will qualify for the first round of this week’s playoffs. He had fought all year, making only seven of 18 cuts and, at 42, he only had to wonder a little for how long he would be able to play competitively.
Herman once worked for President Donald Trump at Trump National Golf Club in Bedminster, NJ. He has often played with Trump, both before and after he became president, and often talks about how much Trump has encouraged him regarding his golf career over the years.
Herman is a true supporter of Trump. They are, if you haven’t already guessed, just not.
Yet Herman and I get along very well. I remember a long conversation in the locker room with him right after winning for the first time on tour, in Houston in the spring of 2016. It was my kind of story: a grinder he first won at 38 and had come a long way. from teaching Trump National. He was bright, funny, clearly devoted to his family. The kind of player I’d like to write about is have a beer.
In many ways, Herman is a perfect example in these polarized times of not being defined by politics. This is a lesson I have learned over the years about golf: We can all put politics aside, even now.
One of the first events I covered while researching A good ruined walk it was the 1993 Ryder Cup. That was the year President Bill Clinton invited the American team to visit the White House before the players boarded the Concorde to fly to England. Several players hesitated to go. The captain was Tom Watson, a Republican dyed as woolen as he is on planet Earth. He told the players: “We will go there to represent the United States. Bill Clinton is the president and first golfer. We were going.”
A few weeks later, after the American team had won their games at The Belfry (the last American victory abroad), I asked Davis Love III why so many members of the team had refused to go to the White House. You will not meet a more reasonable human being than Love. His response, however, was direct.
“If he had been president [George H.W.] Bush, whom we all respect, would have been different, “he said.” But after Clinton lied about raising our taxes, we weren’t that eager to meet him. “
In fact, Clinton promised to raise taxes on anyone earning more than $ 200,000 a year, and she did. When I pointed this out to Davis, he shrugged and said, “Whatever.”
Athletes who vote for their wallets aren’t unique to golf. When Charles Barkley informed his mother years ago that he was considering running for governor of Alabama as a Republican, his mother said, “But Charles, Republicans are people who always want to pay less tax.”
“Mom,” Barkley replied, “it’s me.”
Phil Mickelson once pointed out to me that I mis-labeled him when I called him conservative. “I’m really quite liberal on most issues,” he said.
“But your number one problem is how much you pay in taxes,” I said.
He smiled and said, “Oh, no, this isn’t my number 1, it’s number 1, 2, 3, 4 and maybe 5.”
I gave him credit for being honest.
Most of the most successful golfers and professional athletes are like Mickelson. If you propose to lower taxes, he likes you. If you propose to breed them, not so much. Many athletes don’t even bother to vote. When I was doing research A good ruined walk, I asked Billy Andrade if he was a registered Republican or a registered Democrat.
“I’m not registered,” Billy replied. “I don’t want to be called for jury duty.”
When I asked his wife, Jody, who is very Democratic, why he didn’t insist that he register, she shrugged and said, “If he registered, he would still vote Republican, so I don’t push him.”
Jody Andrade eventually convinced her husband to register. He is now one of the few Democrats in golf. David Duval gave money to Barack Obama and Paul Goydos, a former teacher, is also a Democrat.
In 1994, during Doral Week, I was having dinner with Watson, Goydos, the late John Morris (who was then the PR director of the tour) and many other writers. Watson began to rail against people about welfare, saying they should all work. Goydos, who was in awe of being at the same table with Watson, finally spoke.
“You know, Tom, I knew a lot of the families you talk about when I was teaching,” he said. “Are there any welfare tricks? Sure. Just like there are the Wall Street tricks. But most of the people I knew wanted to work, didn’t want to be assisted, on the contrary, they hated the idea of being assisted “.
Watson listened to Goydos and then they engaged in a lively but not rancorous conversation. Two years later, when Goydos won his first PGA Tour win at Bay Hill, I ran into Watson that night.
“I saw you walking about 18 with your boyfriend,” Watson said. (Everyone on tour at the time called Goydos ‘my boyfriend’.) “I thought about that dinner at Doral, and I was really glad he won. We need more people like him out here: caring, intelligent.” He stopped. and smiled. “Even when they’re wrong.”
Everyone knows that Bruce Edwards was Watson’s caddy for most of the 30 years until the dreaded ALS disease killed Bruce in 2004. Tom and Bruce often discussed politics, especially the Second Amendment (the right to bear arms), to which Watson is very dear. Bruce was definitely against it. Since Bruce’s death, Neil Oxman, who leads political campaigns for the Democrats, has often served as caddy for Watson. They are almost as close as Tom and Bruce were.
“Let’s not talk about politics,” Oxman likes to say. “When we do that, I don’t listen to him and he doesn’t listen to me. Works well.”
Tom and I have been hosting a charity golf tournament in Bruce’s name to raise funds for ALS research since 2005. Last year, when Tom came to Washington for what we both affectionately call The Bruce, he spent Sunday on a golf course with Donald Trump.
The next morning, at breakfast, we talked about his beloved Kansas City bosses and my beleaguered New York Jets. Then we went to work to raise money for a cause we both deeply believe in.
Watson and Jim Herman will vote one way in November; I will vote differently. And I hope I will have a lot to talk to them about when the elections are over, regardless of the outcome.
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