Golfing great Jack Nicklaus in 2018. Photo / Photosport
Golfing great Jack Nicklaus in 2018. Photo / Photosport
OPINION:
Legends of sport are generally revered. But, when some out themselves as flawed, as in Jack Nicklaus' public appeal for votes for President Donald Trump in the US election, it can be a time of inexpressible sadness and letdown.
Nicklaus is the greatest golfer of all time. His 18majors have withstood the test of time and even the test of Tiger Woods – unlikely to add much to his total of 15 majors and overtake the great man.
Over the years, Nicklaus has been a model of fair play and sportsmanship, a proud, upright man with a dogged spirit and that uncoachable element in sport – the gift of being able to do the right thing at the right time.
The "Golden Bear" voted for Trump and urged others to, saying Trump has "delivered on his promises" and "worked for the average person," while being "more diverse than any President I have seen and has tried to help people from all walks of life – equally".
"Trump's policies will bring the American Dream to many families across the nation... This is not a personality contest; it's about patriotism, policies and the people they impact," Nicklaus said. "His love for America and its citizens, and putting his country first, has come through loud and clear. How he has said it has not been important to me. What has been important are his actions."
Like the 228,000 Americans who have died from Covid-19, maybe? Astonishingly, Nicklaus – now 80 – and his wife contracted the virus earlier this year and recovered. Latest modelling predicts the US will lose over 500,000 lives by the end of February, 120,000 of which could be saved if people wear masks and follow the safe practices Trump has been dismissing. Important actions, indeed.
But let's not debate Jack's political views and choices. Let's focus on what Nicklaus is known for – golf, an important part of Trump's life. In all sport, golf is the discipline where conduct, sportsmanship and a code of ethics are most strenuously observed. Players call penalties on themselves in play; golf is the honesty box of sport. Cheats are booed by fans, their reputations shot.
Ron Stange and his wife Nancy prepare to depart after participating in a golf cart parade in support of the re-election of Donald Trump in early October. Photo / Getty
Last year's book, Commander In Cheat – How Golf Explains Trump, was written by decorated US sportswriter Rick Reilly. The whole thing is devoted to how Trump cheats at golf. Reilly says it reveals a lot about him and he fears for the future of the United States.
Perhaps the most excruciating example isn't in the book – the tale, which Reilly says he has subsequently had confirmed, of how the President bullied Ted Virtue, a businessman connected with Oscar-winning movie Green Book, into playing for the "club championship" at a Trump course.
Trump had been overseas when Virtue won the championship but interrupted Virtue's casual round of golf with his son, insisting on playing the last six holes "for the championship".
Reilly told the Guardian: "They get to a hole with a lake in front of the green. Ted and his son hit the green but Trump's ball goes in the water. Trump races off in his cart and by the time they reach the green Trump is lining up the son's putt. The caddie has switched balls. The son says: 'That's my ball!'
"Trump's caddie says: 'No, this is the president's ball. Your ball went in the water.' How bad is that? That's insane. Trump makes the putt and goes one up to win. Trump cheated and won".
The real kicker is that Trump got all magnanimous then, telling Virtue they would be co-champions. A plaque went up soon after, proclaiming Trump as solo club champ - no mention of Virtue, in more ways than one.
Donald Trump has a storied history of cheating at the sport he spends so much time playing. Photo / Getty
Reilly has known Trump for 30 years and used to enjoy his company; others confirm Trump's dubious golf practices – like a 15-year-old wannabe professional golfer (now a data analyst) called Adam Levin who played Trump before he was President, an uncomfortable tale, found here, of entitlement and condescension.
Reilly, to the Guardian, said: "Cheating? Hate that. Driving carts on greens? Hate that…Kicking your ball so often the caddies call you Pelé? I so hate that. Most of all I hate how stupid he's making my country look. I hate what he's doing to my planet. I hate what he's doing to kids at the border. I don't mind Republicans. I just can't stand this guy. I love golf and he has set the game back 30 years.
"I called the National Golf Foundation. They said 90 per cent of golfers don't cheat. Golf is an honest game but this guy leaves a big ugly orange stain on it. It really pisses me off."
His book forensically investigates Trump's boast of winning 18 US club championships. Actual score, according to Reilly: 16 lies, two couldn't be confirmed either way.
As for me, I don't think I will ever look at Jack Nicklaus in quite the same way. A guy cheats at the game that made you a respected world figure and you want others to vote for him? Nicklaus might be the greatest golfer ever but maybe his view of the world ended up stranded forever in the bunker of life.
