Chi Chi Rodriguez
1935-2024
There was a joy to being around Chi Chi Rodriguez, whether it involved watching him play golf, hearing him tell a story or admiring the way he lived his life.
In a game that has had its share of characters, Chi Chi – it’s hard to call him Rodriguez – carved out his own place through tenacity, talent, generosity and more than a touch of showmanship.
Rodriguez died on August 8 at age 88, having played his way into the World Golf Hall of Fame and, through the enduring work of his Chi Chi Rodriguez Youth Foundation in Clearwater, Florida, earned a spot in the World Sports Humanitarian Hall of Fame.
He won eight PGA Tour events in the 1960s and ’70s and another 22 times on PGA Tour Champions (seventh most all-time), and he received the USGA’s highest honor, the Bob Jones Award, in 1989.
Over the years, Rodriguez shared his philosophy with the world, usually framing it with humor. ... He jokingly said, “I don’t fear death, but I sure don’t like those 3-footers for par.” He explained his storytelling by saying, “I don’t exaggerate; I just remember big.”
In his native Puerto Rico, where he delivered water to sugar cane workers as a 7-year-old, Rodriguez discovered golf and it led him to becoming an international star.
With his Panama straw hat, his sense of humor and the sword dance he did with his putter after making key putts, Rodriguez became one of golf’s most recognizable figures.
“Chi Chi Rodriguez’s passion for charity and outreach was surpassed only by his incredible talent with a golf club in his hand,” PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan said. “A vibrant, colorful personality both on and off the golf course, he will be missed dearly by the PGA Tour and those whose lives he touched in his mission to give back.”
Born Juan Antonio Rodriguez in Rio Piedras near San Juan, he got the nickname Chi Chi because he was such a fan of Puerto Rican baseball player Chi Chi Flores that he began calling himself by the same name. Rodriguez played professional baseball in Puerto Rico before pursuing golf full time.
The youngest of six children, Rodriguez nearly died from rickets as a child. He taught himself golf after wandering onto a golf course where he saw caddies making more money than he made in the sugar cane fields, eventually creating his first club from a guava branch.
Over the years, Rodriguez shared his philosophy with the world, usually framing it with humor.
When he talked about his fondness for eating meat when doctors said too much could have negative effects, Rodriguez said, “I never saw a sick-looking tiger.”
He jokingly said, “I don’t fear death, but I sure don’t like those 3-footers for par.”
He explained his storytelling by saying, “I don’t exaggerate; I just remember big.”
It was the way he treated his putter like a sword that further endeared Rodriguez to fans. They waited for it and, usually when he made a birdie, he obliged.
“The sword dance is a drama,” Rodriguez told Golf Digest. “I am a matador. The hole is a bull. When the ball goes in the hole, I’ve already slain the bull, so the sword fight with the putter isn’t necessary except to flaunt my skill.
“I wipe the blood from the sword with my handkerchief and return the sword to its scabbard. Then I go to the next hole and look for another bull.”
That was Chi Chi Rodriguez, who slayed imaginary bulls with the heart of a lion.