There are few things better in golf writing than getting an opportunity to sit down with the great man himself, Jack Nicklaus. It was a few weeks before he was to celebrate his 85th birthday last year and the Golden Bear had agreed to meet me in his office in Juno Beach, Florida, where we would engage in a variety of subjects, mostly related to the book I was working on.
The night prior, Nicklaus had tuned into the inaugural showing of TGL, the tech-based indoor golf league that had garnered considerable curiosity, especially since Tiger Woods and Rory McIlroy were involved in the project that was taking place a few miles away.
Although it wasn’t the subject of our get-together, I was still curious to hear what he thought about the new indoor made-for-TV concept. Nicklaus was watching, but then during a commercial break, he switched over to the Golf Channel, where he stumbled upon. . . himself.
It just so happened that a replay of the 1994 Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf match between Nicklaus and Arnold Palmer was on the screen. Nicklaus asked his wife, Barbara, what she preferred.
“She said she wanted to watch me,” Nicklaus said, chuckling.
It was yet another reminder of how the Golden Bear remains as comfortable in his own skin as just about any superstar, one who has been part of the public consciousness for nearly 70 years.
Forty years after his crowning achievement – winning the 1986 Masters for his 18th professional major victory – Nicklaus remains a prominent figure in the game, active in design. In June, he celebrated the 50th playing of the Memorial Tournament, an event he founded at a course he designed – Muirfield Village – near his hometown in Ohio.
Getting to talk to Jack, who turned 86 earlier this year, for my book, “TIGER V JACK, Golf’s Great Debate,” was, of course, an important reporting project that led to numerous tidbits. Among them: his father Charlie’s affection for Bobby Jones, who won 13 major championships – if you count the six amateur titles, the link to today’s major quest.
Later, Nicklaus would meet Jones, who founded the Masters and remarked that the Golden Bear “played a game with which I am not familiar.” Nicklaus would utter similar praise of Woods, with whom he became intertwined from nearly the time they met in 1991.
Jack and Tiger, of course, would come to be linked due to Nicklaus’ major championship record and Tiger’s pursuit of it. To say that Tiger came up short only tells part of the story.
The debate entails so much more.
“He means a lot to all of us players,” Woods said on the day in 2012 when he matched Nicklaus with 73 PGA Tour wins (and would go on to win 82 times). “We all looked up to him, and he’s the greatest champion who ever lived.”
Woods has often used that terminology to describe Nicklaus, as have others who view his major championship tally as the standard by which all others in the game are judged.
But Woods has made us think about who the greatest player is.
When Nicklaus got to 18 majors in 1986, there was no truly active player halfway to his total. Tom Watson, 10 years younger, had won eight and never added another. Gary Player had nine but was already 50 years old.
Woods was only age 10 and soon would be putting Nicklaus’ accomplishments by age on his bedroom wall, checking them off one by one. The major quest inevitably became a big part of the conversation as Woods emerged as a force, winning his first as a pro (1997 Masters), then going on a run of seven out of 11 major titles in four years. Twenty years ago, when Woods got to 10 majors, the comparisons and contrasts were constant.
He won majors by 12 shots and 15 shots and eight shots. He became the first player since Nicklaus in 1966 to complete the career Grand Slam. He won so often and so impressively that the greats of the game who had come before him were blown away by his exploits.
“Tiger is the most dominant player of all time compared to the careers of others,” said long-time analyst Brandel Chamblee. “And Jack had the better career.”
For some, the scoreboard is all that matters. For others, it goes deeper. And that is really the essence of the debate, one that has no definitive answers and is likely to rage on.
A Barrington native and an Evans Scholar, Bob Harig covers men’s professional golf for Sports Illustrated’s SI.com. He is the author of the book “Tiger and Phil, Golf’s Greatest Rivalry.”
