Tough enough - golfer Ben Crenshaw - Interview

Golf Digest, Feb, 1999

Crenshaw says he's no Gentle Ben when it comes to the Ryder Cup

That "Gentle Ben" nickname has never quite fit Ben Crenshaw. He's been known to blow his top after blowing putts. He's tossed clubs. He's snapped shafts. But his fans forgive him those indiscretions. The image they prefer is Crenshaw collapsing in tears after his last putt at the 1995 Masters. Crying, not because he had won, but because he was grieving the death that week of his lifelong instructor, Harvey Penick.

Ben Crenshaw has always been both extremes, emotional yet tenderhearted.

Maybe that's a byproduct of his bittersweet 25-year career on the PGA Tour. He's had 19 victories, including two Masters green coats. But, by his calculation, he's squandered at least seven majors, and his playoff record is an abysmal zero-for-eight, including the 1979 PGA Championship.

Lately, he has been very successful as a golf course architect with partner Bill Coore. But Crenshaw was not a hit as a commentator on CBS golf telecasts. Not because he had nothing to say, but because he took too long to say it. The sound-bite mentality of TV doesn't suit his natural cadence, in which he examines every phrase like it's a hand- rolled cigarette.

It remains to be seen whether Crenshaw will emerge as Gentle Ben or Raging Bull as this year's American Ryder Cup captain. He did offer one hint, after hearing his good friend Davis Love III speculate in these pages that Crenshaw will agonize over benching players. "He's wrong," Crenshaw says firmly, not gently. "I won't hesitate."

Golf Digest Architecture Editor Ron Whitten met with Crenshaw, 47, last October at Ben's Austin office and his favorite Mexican cafe. They talked for several hours, until Ben was lassoed by his wife, Julie, to pass judgment on her selections of Ryder Cup apparel and accessories. Curiously, the conversation, which ranged from Tom Kite to the JFK assassination, never got around to golf course design.

GOLF DIGEST: Lee Trevino once suggested in print that you were just too nice a guy, that you lacked the killer instinct of a Nicklaus or a Watson or a Floyd. Is that a fair assessment?

BEN CRENSHAW: In some ways, it is. Lee is very perceptive. He's probably right.

Does a Ryder Cup captain need a killer instinct?

Dave Marr, who was one of the greatest captains I've ever seen, was a very friendly man. Very open and warmhearted. But he got the job done. I'm a lot like Dave. My job is to get those guys to play their best. I've got to make them understand what that week is about and how we need to blend together. First thing I'll tell them, "Check your ego at the door." I won't have any hesitancy about benching any player. I got benched. With justification. It won't bother me a bit.

What is that week all about?

It harkens your mind back to college, or even high school matches, and you begin to remember what it was like playing in those. You feel so much closer to those guys on the team. There's also the interaction with the other team. In my instance-and people are probably going to vilify me for saying this-I've become closer to some of the European players, because of going through those experiences.

Can you give some examples?

Oh, yeah. Howard Clark. Mark James.

Eamonn Darcy. Eamonn and I had an incredible match the last day at Muirfield Village.

Let's go back to that '87 Ryder Cup. What's the truth about you breaking your putter on the sixth green?

Did you slam it down after three-putting or did you break it tapping at an acorn?

I three-putted, and I don't know why this happened, but I had the head of the club in my hand. Usually you carry it by the grip, but somehow I had the head of the putter in my hand. I walked off the edge of the green and I just tapped this thing-and I've hit it much harder before- but it was certainly not at a force I ever thought would break it.

But it did. It broke right in the middle of the shaft, at its stress point. Turns out it was rusted out inside, and it broke. I was absolutely stunned. Of course, the first thing you think is, "God, why now? Why, on the last day of the Ryder Cup, in a tight match?"

I will never forget, I played the sev-enth hole and Jack Nicklaus [the U.S. captain] came by and asked, "How're you doing?" I looked down and kind of murmured under my breath, "Well, I broke my putter."

He said, "You did what?"

I said, "I broke my putter on the sixth green."

He said, "Well, with the way things are going, I don't blame you."

I somehow mustered up a way to finish. I putted with a sand wedge for a couple of holes, and then I finally resigned myself on the ninth hole that I would putt with a 1-iron. And I did pretty well. Eamonn played a beautiful round. We had a close match and he beat me, 1 up.

Only because you drove into the creek on the left at 18.

I did. I played the 18th so badly.

If you could putt with a 1-iron and lose a match only 1-down, isn't that proof that it's not the arrow, it's the Indian?

Eamonn and I have had a lot of chuckles about that. The greens were very quick that week, and he told me, "I thought you were putting with some other club to try to slow the ball down on the greens." I said, "I hadn't dreamed of that, Eamonn. No, I broke my putter back there.'' I told him during the match, on the back nine. He was just as shocked as I was.