April 24, 1989

For the third time in four years, Greg Norman came tantalizingly -- make that agonizingly -- close to winning the Masters

By Bob Verdi

Is Norman overanxious? Overwrought? Overdue? Overrated? The Shark, so called because of his fishing exploits Down Under, has carried great expectations since his first Masters appearance, in 1981. But so far, his sole victory in a major championship has been the 1986 British Open at Turnberry, where he vanquished England's Gordon Brand (as in bland) by five shots. Norman might console himself with the knowledge that even Ben Hogan did not win his first major, the 1946 PGA, until he was 34 -- Norman's age now -- and he went on to win eight more, his last one at the age of 41. Except that, well, Norman is getting impatient.

At Augusta this year, where he shot closing rounds of 68 and 67, Norman put up a brave front. He declined an invitation to be interviewed in the press room after the final round, and as darkness fell on Sunday evening, he joined fellow pros Mark O'Meara and Payne Stewart in the clubhouse for a beer.

"I may not show it," Norman said, smiling tightly, "but I'm incredibly disappointed, incredibly down."

"You will win the Masters sooner or later," a bystander told him.

"Sooner or later?" Norman replied, still smiling. "How much -- -- later is it going to be?"

That's a good question. Once expected to run the table, Norman now might be running out of time. At Augusta he got off to a slow start with rounds of 74 and 75, leaving himself eight strokes off the 36-hole pace of Faldo and Lee Trevino. But as has become his habit, Norman came alive on the weekend. He moved into contention with that third-round 68, and on the back nine of the final round he caught fire, birdieing the 10th, 13th, 15th, 16th and 17th holes. Then his five-iron approach to the final hole plunged yards short of the green. Norman finished the tournament at four under par. As he peered at the television monitor in the locker room, he rooted for either Scott Hoch or Ben Crenshaw, both then tied at five under with Faldo, who had already finished, to birdie 18 in regulation and win the tournament outright. At least that would spare Norman the pain of having to watch a playoff he might have joined.

But his wish wasn't granted. Once again Norman finished one stroke off the lead. Once again he was the gracious runner-up at somebody else's victory party.

At the 1984 U.S. Open at Winged Foot Golf Club in Mamaroneck, N.Y., Norman pushed his second shot on the 72nd hole into the bleachers. He parred the hole anyway, to tie Fuzzy Zoeller, who then whipped him in an 18-hole playoff. That's life, his fans figured. Norman would be back.

And he was, at the 72nd hole in the 1986 Masters, chasing Jack Nicklaus. Except that Norman's four-iron went right, and he bogeyed. Second again, but that was O.K. too. At 46, the Golden Bear was destined for this Norman conquest. Besides, the Shark would return.

He did, leading through three rounds of the '86 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills, in Southampton, N.Y., in June. But Raymond Floyd was the winner. No problem, though; Norman was still in command, as he showed that July, when he won the British Open at Turnberry. It was the breakthrough everyone had been waiting for.

But at the 1986 PGA Championship at Inverness Club, in Toledo, Bob Tway sank a bunker shot at the 72nd hole for birdie to beat him. Norman watched, stunned, from a few feet away. It was a once-in-a-lifetime shot -- except that something very much like it happened at the 1987 Masters. As Norman stood nearby, Larry Mize chipped in from 140 feet to beat him on the second hole of sudden death. It was an incredible and unprecedented double whammy, one man victimized by two miracle shots in back-to-back majors. Someone of fainter heart might have concluded then and there that his career was star-crossed.

But Norman is not the brooding type. Surrender to grim fate? Not on your life, mate.

Norman hasn't exactly done a disappearing act since then, though he has done a slight fade. He was the PGA Tour's top money-winner in 1986 and finished seventh in winnings in '87. Last year, despite missing nearly two months with a wrist injury incurred at the U.S. Open, he had seven top-10 finishes in 14 tournaments and won $514,854 to finish 17th on the money list. All the while, he has played a good part of each season abroad, winning seven tournaments in Australia and Europe since 1987. Yet there he was at Augusta two weeks ago, digging himself into a hole during the first two rounds. "If I can ever figure out how to start quicker here, I might win this s.o.b.," he said. Norman wound up having to explain once again why he came close, but got no cigar.

Inevitably, he is compared with Tom Weiskopf, who parlayed his magnificent swing and special ball-striking ability into but one major triumph, the 1973 British Open at Troon. Weiskopf finished second in the Masters on four occasions (twice to Nicklaus) and generally underwhelmed those waiting for him to become a dominant golfer.

"No doubt I should have won more," the 46-year-old Weiskopf says. "But golf was never my top priority, and I don't apologize for that. Greg and I have similarities. He's big and strong too. And a so-so putter, like I was, who can get it going on occasion. Where he has the edge on me is upstairs. He's not as emotional. Greg wants to be the best, no doubt about it, and I wish it to him.

"But to be the best, you have to be a motivated, selfish, egotistical, demanding perfectionist. There's no question Greg is motivated, demanding and a perfectionist. But I give him lower marks on selfishness and ego, as far as golf's concerned. In life, Greg is a great guy, a man's man, who cares about friends and spends a lot of quality time with them and his family. He might not be mean enough to be the best in a cutthroat business, which is O.K. as far as I'm concerned. That was never a priority of mine, to be the best golfer in the world at all costs. I don't know about Greg. He's not a phony. He's a whole person who enjoys having a beer with friends and fishing with his kids. Is that bad? You tell me."

So that's one theory as to why Norman's potential remains his greatest asset: The Shark doesn't have the killer instinct required to be a truly great golfer.

"Well," he says, "I do want to be the best golfer in the world. Very much so. But I am a nice guy, and I also want to be that. Very much so. You know, when I don't win, I feel worse for the people who root for me than for myself. I feel as though I've let them down. But I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I came from very little, and I've done remarkably well, surrounded by great people, starting with Laura. We just celebrated reaching [an annual income of] eight figures. I'm not comfortable, though. I'm driven to win.

"But I don't think I could be meaner if I wanted to. I give 110 percent on the course, but I also sleep at night. Where I was brought up, you give it your best, and if somebody beats you fair and square, you congratulate him for it and move on. Keep trying. Try harder. Too hard? Perhaps."

At Augusta, Mark Calcavecchia opined that Norman might want it too badly. And indeed, there is a sense of urgency about his game now. He waggles over the ball, deliberates as never before. Some players see this as an interruption of Norman's customary rhythm. Others suspect that these meticulous ways reflect all the recreational golf Norman plays with Nicklaus, his close friend and neighbor in North Palm Beach, Fla., where Greg and Laura have recently built their oceanfront dream house.

"I am trying to study golf and manage the game more, the way Jack does," Norman says. "You know, one of the unique things about Jack -- besides his competitive spirit and enormous pride -- is the fact that he plays the golf course backward, from green to tee. As soon as he steps away from one green, he's looking toward the next green to see where the pin is. Then he visualizes that hole in reverse. In other words: Where do I have to hit the ball on the tee shot to have it in the right spot for the approach shot to have it in the spot where I want to reach the green?"

Nicklaus in his salad days was an intimidating presence who could at once strike fear into foes and elevate their games to another level. He believes Norman might inspire similar emotions. But at 34, Nicklaus already had 14 of his 20 major championships.

"With the glory goes the pressure," Nicklaus says. "That's part of the deal. . . . There's no question that Greg has the ability to be as great as he wants to be, and he certainly has the temperament and the work habits. Greg works a lot harder than I ever did at my game. He's on the practice tee at eight in the morning.

"I believe that the United States might just be his last frontier. He's won all over the world, with some incredible streaks. Six, seven tournaments in a row against good competition, on tough courses. He could do the same thing over here. He could win one major soon, and then win five of the next six or six of the next eight, something like that. This might just be his last stop. He's got the great talent and the great attitude, but if he's going to get there, he's going to have to get on with it. He's going to have to make a move in the next two or three years."

As a late starter in golf -- he didn't take it up seriously until age 16 -- Norman is still "gee whiz" about his career. He not only enjoys the physical act of playing and the spice of competition, but he also savors the trappings of his sport. He doesn't engage in exchanges with spectators on cue, but on genuine impulse. Maybe it's the good-natured Aussie in him. Besides, he doesn't feel a day over 28.

"That's my golf age, not 34," he says. "But I should win more than I have, and I want to in the worst way. When I won the British Open, I wasn't ready to win a bunch of majors. I feel ready now, but first I've got to get the next one, and I'm very aware of wanting it too much. If I try too hard, I could lose. I also know that if I reach 39 and haven't done it, it might be too late. I don't want to be remembered as the poor fellow who was there for those two chip-ins. I've got to believe there will be a day. . . ."