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POSTED MAY 19, 2005
Men
of Letters
Every year lots of golf
history oozes at the Byron Nelson tour stop in the Dallas-Fort
Worth area. The tournament namesake and beloved golfing
icon basks humbly in his annual week in the sun, a 93-year-old
living memento of the game’s golden era. His legacy
is ensured by his 18-win season (a record 11 straight)
in 1945, further nurtured by his patronly pen and his
penchant to console, encourage, and congratulate countless
pros who followed his path. Each week Nelson drops a note
of congratulations to the PGA Tour’s latest champion,
cementing an involvement in the modern game he helped
create and a game he walked away from in his prime so
he could just go home to Texas. Tiger Woods has a stack
of those handwritten notes and this week is sure to add
one more in the wake of missing the cut after 142 weekends
of tour golf competition. That record had stood for fifty
years at 113 before Woods swooshed by the guy who is going
to be writing him his next letter.
Nelson, who learned the game out of the same caddie shack
as Ben Hogan as a youth in Texas, quit the tour at 34
years of age.
He beat Hogan like a drum in those days. Nelson could
have played into the sixties, the era of Palmer and Nicklaus.
That he walked away so early deprived baby-boomers a glimpse
of one of the all-time greats.
So we with interest rely on stories and letters.
Fortunately for me there resides in Banner Elk a story-teller
of the highest order to provide a first hand account of
the young Byron Nelson. Eighty-five year-old Ray Stanczak
is first and foremost a sportsman. At his recent induction
in the sports hall of fame in Paterson, New Jersey, he
was remembered as the “greatest running back ever
to come out of Central High School.”
One retrospective account rang of Grantland Rice and went
“...close your eyes and return to the memories of
a flash exploding from the line of scrimmage...leaving
the secondary flat-footed and bewildered, and almost like
the wind running with graceful, gazelle-like strides to
the score. There will never be another “Wings.”
From 1937 through 1939 “Wings” earned all-state
honors in football and baseball where his career batting
average was .571.
He had scholarship offers from 40 college programs before
a crippling knee injury ended his football days while
playing for General Neyland at Tennessee.
A born athlete, he would turn to golf, an interest piqued
by a boy’s fascination with a young golf pro from
Texas. George Jacobus, the head pro at Ridgewood Country
Club where a younger Stanczak earned money caddying, had
brought Byron Nelson up from Florida with standing orders
to practice everyday. The word in the shed was Nelson
was the real deal. It was 1935 when a fifteen-year old
Stanczak and two friends hitch hiked all night from Paterson
to Monmouth Country Club in Eatontown to watch Nelson
compete in the New Jersey Open.
“We slept on the grass,” Wings remembered. “We
had maybe 50 cents between us.”
They watched Nelson’s every
shot during the 36-hole final, close enough to hear the
dialogue between player and caddie. After Nelson’s
closest rival hit to fifteen feet at the day’s pivotal
hole, Nelson twanged, “give me mah spade” and
fired his six-iron shot to four feet. That birdie helped
seal the win.
Nelson earned a $400 winner’s check and $40 from
the pro-am a day earlier. As the presenters milled about
in their black ties a polite yet anxious champion asked
“could you just give me the money. I have to get
back home to my wife.”
“Boy, the eyebrows went up,” Stanczak remembered,
“but he was so nice they just shrugged and gave him
his money.”
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Ray
Stanczak at the golf course in 1993.
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The tournament over, the boys were faced with the long
trek back to Paterson. “Ask him Ray,” his friends
urged him. “Ask him for a ride home.”
Shyly Stanczak tugged on Nelson’s sleeve and the
champion said jump in the car.
“We were hungry and busted,” he remembered.
“On the way home he bought us each a hot dog and
an ear of corn. I’ll never forget it.”
Ten years later, while playing football for Tennessee,
Stanczak watched Nelson win one of his record 18 tour
victories at the 1945 Knoxville Open. He wanted to thank
Nelson personally for his kindness a decade earlier but
couldn’t get through the admiring throng.
He tabled the notion for another day—another someday.
Done with football, Stanczak turned his attentions to
his golf game. In 1950 he won the Paterson city championship
before winning three successive club championships. He
turned pro as a zero handicap and spread the gospel of
golf as an instructor and raconteur, speaking to countless
Rotary, Kiwanis and other civic organizations. When a
celebrity showed up for golf at clubs in the area, Stanczak
was often called on to play. He frequently rounded out
foursomes with sports figures like Rocky Marciano, Jimmy
Demarit, Sam Snead, Jimmy Turnesa and Davie Marr.
He taught the game to the blind and all in all probably
gave more lessons over the years than any handful of club
professionals combined.
But always his favorite golfing memory was of that ride
home with Nelson.
Forty-eight years after that hot dog and ear of corn satiated
three boys from Paterson, Stanczak wrote Byron Nelson
from the pro shop at Sugar Mountain where he was the club
professional. It was 1993 and the old pro had included
a picture of his 7-year-old grandson Chris with the belated
thank you note he had so long intended to write.
Good thing for the old pro that Nelson didn’t take
as long to respond. Golf’s man of letters replied
promptly.
6/23/93
Dear Ray
Glad to get your nice letter. The New Jersey Open was
the first tournament I ever won as a pro. Glad you saw
it.
Your grandson certainly has a good looking swing. I know
it was good because of the excellent follow through. Keep
it up Chris and you’ll win a big pro golf tournament
someday.
Good luck,
Byron Nelson
It’s a memento Stanczak and his grandson can
cherish. Just like Tiger.
See you on the tee.
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