It was with real sadness that I learned of the death of World Golf Hall of Fame member Tommy Bolt, who passed away in Arkansas last Saturday at age 92.  Part of my reaction was rooted in the knowledge that Bolt – ever one of the game’s more colorful characters – represented the last of a bygone era of golfers, a time when Ben Hogan and Byron Nelson were pretty button-downed sorts, but men like Bolt, Sam Snead, Jimmy Demaret and Lloyd Mangrum brought a degree of “flavor” to things that will never again be seen on the PGA Tour.  But I was also bothered by two more items of interest.  First, Tommy Bolt – though undeniably an underachiever relative to his immense golfing talent – was also one of the game’s more underrated players; indeed, his 15 career PGA Tour titles (including the 1958 U.S. Open), while impressive, were forever overshadowed by stories (many apocryphal) of his legendary temper.  Which brings us to my third and final thought:

Despite this well-earned reputation as a hothead, Tommy Bolt was actually a very nice man.

Though I personally witnessed him loudly blowing up about slow play during the inaugural U.S. Senior Open in 1980, I had the chance to meet Tommy Bolt at Riviera during the early 1990s, when he spent several days at the club as a guest of the Los Angeles Junior Chamber of Commerce prior to the L.A. Open.  Suffice to say that he couldn’t have been nicer, more accommodating or more charming – indeed, Bolt was John McEnroe a good three decades before the mercurial tennis star perfected his own Jekyll and Hyde act on and off the court.

What follows, then, is my Book of Golfers entry for the late, great Tommy Bolt.  I sincerely doubt that professional golf will ever see another one like him.

TOMMY BOLT

There are names that all golfers know; those of Nicklaus, Hogan, Jones and several other immortals.  And while Tommy Bolt (b.Haworth, OK 3/31/1916) may not be quite as famous as those three legends, he truly isn’t very far behind.  The shame of it, of course, is that Bolt’s notoriety comes for all the wrong reasons.  For while many a Bolt story has been exaggerated, and men like Lefty Stackhouse, Ivan Gantz and Don Cherry were far more out of control, Thomas Henry Bolt has for many years served as golf’s poster child for a burning, uncontrollable temper.

Bolt stories, of course, are legion.  Heaving his favorite driver in a lake.  Advising players never to break their drivers and putters during the same round.  Being told by his caddie to use a 2 iron where a 9 would suffice, as the 2 was the lone serviceable club left in the bag.  Most such tales have grown exponentially over the years, often making Bolt seem more of a caricature than the tough, competitive and tremendously talented player that he was.  Yet here was a man who, upon missing a short putt, really did glare skyward and painfully intone: “Why don’t You come on down here and play me one time?”

Coming on Tour at the ripe old age of 34, the dapper Bolt was a winner right away, first at Pinehurst’s old North & South Open, then, in years to come, in virtually every corner of the country.  All told he would capture 15 PGA Tour victories with the biggest, by far, being the 1958 U.S. Open at Tulsa’s Southern Hills CC.  There, playing in stifling heat, Bolt defeated a 22-year-old Gary Player by four, reaching the peak he had always dreamed of and, by his own admission, losing a bit of competitive edge thereafter.

There are those who will say that given his remarkable talent, Bolt was something of an underachiever, and perhaps there is some truth to that.  His swing, after all, was generally rated second only to Snead’s, he was a superb driver of the ball who could move it either direction with ease, and his irons landed softer than anyone save Hogan.  It was a package that would keep Bolt at the top of his game for many years, allowing him very nearly to win the 1971 PGA (where he eventually finished third) at age 55.  There is little question too that Bolt was the best 60- and 70-year-old player in the world in his day, though he came along just a bit too soon to display his wares on the modern, big-money Champions Tour.

Bolt, for his part, learned to have fun with his tempestuous reputation, even writing a book entitled How To Keep Your Temper on the Golf Course (David McKay, 1969).  But after all the hyperbole and legend, there was still the competitive, super-talented golfer, a man who, upon losing interest in Dan Jenkins’ explanation of Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker, interrupted with: “Well, son, why don’t you just go out and round up them two, and Old Tom’ll play their low ball.”