Writing from Chicago
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Errie Ball grew up watching Harry Vardon play golf.
The native of Wales teed it up in the same British Open as Bobby Jones.
He soon worked at Jones’ club, East Lake, in Atlanta, lured across the pond by Jones’ prodding.
He played in the first tournament hosted by Jones’ new club, Augusta National.
He played in tournaments with Jones and Walter Hagen, Sam Snead and Ben Hogan. He was often paired with Byron Nelson.
He was lockered next to Arnold Palmer at Cherry Hills in 1960 when Palmer stormed out of the locker room for the final round, drove the first green, and won the U.S. Open.
He had long stints as the professional at Oak Park Country Club and Butler National Golf Club.
He was a fine golfer. He won the Illinois PGA Championship three times, the Illinois Open once, and the Illinois PGA Match Play once. He qualified 20 times for the U.S. Open and 18 times for the PGA Championship. A fine showing in one of those appearances brought him back to Augusta National, where he set the record for years between playings of the Masters Tournament.
But that just scratches the surface of the most gentle man in golf, who died this morning at a Martin Hospital South in Stuart, Fla. Samuel Henry Ball was 103 years old.
Errie – the nickname comes from the Welsh version of Harry – was the last living member of the first Masters field, the oldest member of the PGA of America, and the last man you would think would ever die. He recovered completely from a bad fall several years ago, and was still driving himself to Willoughby Golf Club, where he was the pro emeritus, until recently.
“The PGA of America is saddened by the passing of Errie Ball, a professional in all aspects of life,” PGA of America president Ted Bishop said in news release. “Errie's amazing career spans the legends of the game -- from Harry Vardon through Tiger Woods. His longevity, according to those who knew him best, was founded upon a love of people. Each day, like each step he took on the course, was spent with purpose. We will miss him dearly, but his legacy continues to shine through the many PGA Professionals he inspired to grow our game.”
Until Saturday, when he entered the hospital complaining of breathing problems, Ball had been active – slowed in recent years, to be sure, but still humming along thanks to a pacemaker and, he said, a glass or two of Dewar’s.
He gave lessons until a few years ago. He remembered people, places and events from decades past. He was thrilled to learn that a tree that impeded approach shots on the eighth hole at Oak Park – including one of his in an Illinois Open – had been taken out.
And he had a sidekick. Meeting Maxine “Maxie” Wright changed his, and her, life. He explained how in a 2011 interview.
“Maxie had just graduated from Harry Baldwin in Virginia, and her parents gave her a graduation present of a trip around Europe,” Errie said. “I had finished playing in the British and had seen my family. We were sitting together, and became very friendly, and we ran all the events aboard ship. It took a long time to cross, some eight days, and Maxie and I ran shuffleboard and all that stuff and became very close.”
So close, they made a big decision. They decided to get married. To do that, they also had to break off engagements to others.
Two months later, 77 years ago, they were married. You never saw two people more in love.
Ball’s playing ability was phenomenal, and lasting. In his 80s, he was still hitting drives over 250 yards, and invariably in the fairway. No less than Sam Snead said, and Gary Player agreed, that Ball had the best swing he’d ever seen.
When the original graphite shafts appeared in the 1970s, many found the ball went anywhere but straight. Ball took a swipe and realized the new graphite shaft needed the old whipped swing used with hickory shafts, which he went back to in an instant. Nobody else could have done that.
He was great friends with North Shore Country Club head pro Bill Ogden, and once upon a time, won an Illinois PGA title there. Steve Dunning, Oak Park’s pro emeritus, recalled what happened next.
“It gave Errie tremendous pleasure to win it on Bill’s home course,” Dunning said. “So much so, he ended up sleeping on a couch in the clubhouse! He got home at 10 the next morning, holding a bouquet of flowers for Maxie. She said, ‘I will not be married to a damn drunk!’ ”
In recent years, Ball’s national fame was renewed thanks to his longevity and his appearance in the first Masters, then called the Augusta National Invitation Tournament.
“I’m the last man standing,” he quipped in 2011.
“I didn’t know it was going to get this big,” Ball said. “The first Masters was more like an invitational tournament. There were 70 of us invited to play. Charlie Yates and myself got an invitation. When we got the invitation, we were thrilled to death, because we knew anything Bob Jones went into was going to be good.
“You see how it’s turned out.”
Ball tied for 38th back in 1934, the inaugural tournament won by Horton Smith, then the pro at Oak Park, where Ball would arrive after World War II.
Ball wintered for decades at Tucson Country Club, where many a notable came through the shop. Once day, the Duke of Windsor walked in, needing a lesson.
“I was much bigger than he was, and I’m small,” Errie quipped. “He had too much going on to be a good player. He had to give it the time.”
Maxie, herself 100, survives Errie, as does daughter, Leslie, of Miami; brothers Tom, of South Africa, and John, of England; two granddaughters and a great-grandson. Services are yet to be determined.
– Tim Cronin