Johnny on the Spot Underdog Johnny Farrell had the right stuff against Bobby Jones in 1928 at Olympia Fields, but has history wronged the stylish 22-time winner? By Dan Raley Golf World June 13, 2003 As the eight-foot putt dropped gently into the cup, turning Johnny Farrell into an unlikely winner of the 1928 U.S. Open, thunder crackled over the Chicago skyline. The gods might have rewarded Farrell that day at Olympia Fields, but time largely has forgotten a man who backed into a 36-hole playoff but wouldn't back down to Bobby Jones, beating him by a stroke in one of the biggest upsets in Open history. Farrell, who died in 1988 at 87, is remembered best as someone with more style than substance. He was perhaps the most impeccably dressed pro player to stride down a fairway, an absolute clotheshorse. Graceful and self-effacing, he was sought by presidents, royalty, entertainers and even Babe Ruth for golf tips or companionship. Yet Farrell has been largely overlooked by the game's historians and arguably stands as the best player denied a spot in the World Golf Hall of Fame -- despite ranking among the tour's top 25 all-time winners with 22 victories, seven (including six consecutive) in 1927 alone, and playing on the first three American Ryder Cup teams. "He wasn't the greatest swinger in the world, but he had good rhythm," says former professional Johnny Bulla, 89. "He was a classy guy, one of the classiest guys out there." In three previous U.S. Opens, Farrell finished seventh, third and third. "He was considered the gentleman golfer of his day," says his granddaughter Mary Kay McGuire-Willson, a Florida-based golf marketer. "He was always up there but never won. It was hard on him." During a cold, rainy week in suburban Chicago 75 years ago, though, Farrell's luck changed. The first two rounds, paired with Jones and unnerved by the star's huge gallery, he struggled to a 77-74 start. But the poor weather kept scores high and the field bunched. Over the final 36 holes Saturday, playing with a scant gallery, Farrell shot 71 and 72 to make up seven shots on Jones, who faltered with a final-round 77. But a playoff between Farrell and Jones was hardly asssured. A little-known pro from North Carolina named Roland Hancock took a two-stroke lead into the 17th hole. A pair of 5s -- a bogey and a par -- would have earned him the title. Instead he came unglued, taking a 6 on each hole. For Sunday's 36 extra holes, Farrell wasn't expected to hold up any better against one of golf's greatest players, now surrounded by 10,000 fans huddled under umbrellas. Farrell wasn't long off the tee, but his game was composed and dependable. "I played with him a couple times, and he was real pleasant," says 91-year-old Byron Nelson. "He had a very rhythmic swing, back and through, back and through -- kind of like an old rocking chair." Jones helped put him at ease by offering to let him putt first so he wouldn't be distracted by the gallery scurrying to the next hole. The underdog led by three after the morning 18, and trailed just once during the afternoon, with six holes to go. Farrell nearly aced the 130-yard 13th hole to tie Jones and reclaimed the lead with another birdie on the 153-yard 16th. On the 490-yard 18th, leading by one, Farrell hit his third shot to eight feet while Jones was 18 inches away. Farrell sank the putt, setting off rumbles on the horizon and around the green. The winner and his caddie were carried off by excited fans, leaving Jones to pluck his opponent's ball from the cup and hand it over later. It was a scene out of Hollywood, yet the cluster of newsreel cameras mounted on a greenside platform missed it. After the newsmen had distracted Farrell and forced him to back off his putt, officials ordered their whirring cameras turned off. Nothing was going to rattle Farrell this day. "He had a certain mental determination," says son Johnny Farrell Jr., a Seattle limousine driver. "When Jones first teed off, Dad looked away. He wasn't even watching Jones. This was going to be his moment." He had come a long way to get there. A former caddie without a high school diploma who learned the game by mimicking good players in Westchester County, N.Y., his background was in stark contrast to that of Jones, the educated and privileged golf aristocrat from Georgia. Farrell was the son of Irish immigrants banished to America by class-conscious relatives who didn't approve of the marriage. His father died when he was 4, forcing his mother to struggle to make ends meet with help from her mother. The women were determined, if nothing else, that Farrell and his two siblings would always dress well, obscuring their hardships. Once a pro, Farrell became a fashion barometer. When he showed up for the playoff at Olympia Fields, the Chicago Tribune reported that Farrell wore a gray-checkered sweater, blue socks and white plus-four trousers "with a crease that would cut butter." He changed clothes between rounds. Walter Hagen was considered a dashing figure, but Bulla says, "Johnny looked more like a model than Hagen ever looked." Farrell got paid to look good, twice being named America's best-dressed golfer, and won $1,000, double his championship prize money. A serious tour player for a dozen years, Farrell ultimately left the game for love. He met his wife, Kay, at a 1930 golf exhibition, getting her attention by deftly rolling an approach shot up to her feet. They were a golden couple: He previously had dated actress Fay Wray of King Kong movie fame; she had been seen in the company of a U.S. senator's son. Typical of their social appeal, Kay Farrell's 21st birthday was celebrated at the 21 Club in New York, where George Gershwin serenaded her from the piano and Babe Ruth presented her with a jade pin. Deciding to quit the tour for a more stable family life, Farrell was hired in 1934 as the club pro at Baltusrol GC in Springfield, N.J., a job he held for 38 years. By 1943 the Farrells had five children, all interested in golf. Among them, Billy, 68, was a tour player and club pro; Jimmy, who is deceased, served as a club pro; and Johnny Jr. stayed amateur and won the Baltusrol club championships four times. Hardly a discarded and forgotten sports hero, Farrell was regularly sought for lessons by Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, Nixon and Ford, as well as leading socialites up and down the eastern seaboard. Bing Crosby, Bob Hope and Douglas Fairbanks Jr., were close friends. Everyone enjoyed his company. Family members love to tell the story of the time Kay found Johnny and a visitor standing around the kitchen table drinking out of chipped, everyday coffee cups -- hardly the proper etiquette for entertaining the Duke of Windsor. "My father was a self-taught man," says Cathy Rock, 60, Farrell's youngest daughter. "He was a master with people, but his humility came across. He didn't want people making a fuss over him." With the U.S. Open returning for the first time to the site of Farrell's career-defining achievement, that's exactly what people are doing. Tournament tickets will carry Farrell's likeness. Family members hope rekindled memories of him will lead to an overdue inclusion in the Hall of Fame though his name is no longer on the ballot. Several relatives accepted invitations from Olympia Fields to attend the Open, but Johnny Jr. will remain in Seattle, driving his limo between the airport and downtown, getting updates on the championship along the way. He visited the course a few years back, even taking a haphazard swing on the 16th hole, where his father pushed ahead. He figures his father walked away content with his golf career. "He came from a very poor family to excel and do what he did," the son says. "He ended up with a big house, a big car, a great job and a beautiful wife. I don't think he looked back with any regret at all."

Farrell (swinging) beat Jones in the playoff.

Golf’s Great Heritage: Olympia Fields--The 1928 U.S. Open by Bob Weisgerber Olympia Fields Country Club Golf courses that have been around for a long time seem to have a mystique not unlike a burnished patina on a favorite trophy. At Olympia Fields, important golf events have been hosted over some 86 years. Over many of those years the Western Open was accorded the status of a near-major. Tradition means a lot there. Among the 17 championship events are both men’s and women’s competitions. They include, for the men, two U.S. Opens (1928 and 2003), one U.S. Senior Open (1997), two PGA Championships (1925 and 1961), five Western Opens (1920, 1927, 1933, 1968 and 1971), one Chicago Open, two NCAA Championships, one Western Junior. For the women, Olympia Fields has hosted three Western Opens and one Western Amateur. Olympia Fields was founded in 1915 some 25 miles south of Chicago. In order to build four golf courses (a fifth was planned), the club purchased over 20 farms, involving 674 acres. Then they hired Tom Bendelow as the architect for #1 and #2, the latter with William Watson, then #3 William Watson alone. The fourth was the design product of a British Open champion, Willie Park, Jr. and it quickly became recognized as one of the top courses in the world. Golf Digest placed it at a high 30th ranking. But good times don’t last forever. Financial problems caused the sale of half the club’s land in 1945. The huge, sprawling clubhouse was kept intact. The Park design at #4 was retained and renamed the North Course. It is where most of the championships have been held and it will also be the site of the 2003 U.S. Open. Interestingly, Olympia Fields has the look and feel of an old 1920s style course, but the length is a respectable 7177 yards. There are elevation changes and lots of variety in the shot requirements. Streams, steep faced bunkers and native oak trees can cause trouble for the players. Players and championships Great players have left their mark on Olympia Fields. Walter Hagen won the PGA and the Western there. Jack Nicklaus and Sam Snead won championships; respectively, the Western and the Chicago Opens. On the women’s side, the great Patty Berg won the Western Open there. It is worth noting that in 1928 the players used wood shafts and small boys for caddies. They wore neckties, long sleeved shirts and knickers, and sported two-toned golf shoes. This was, after all their National Open and like the spectators, they dressed respectably. There were thousands of people in attendance, and they ringed the greens three deep and often stretched down both sides of the fairway. There were no ropes, but the referee made sure they stayed out of the line of play. Players were courteous during play and the crowd often erupted in cheers following outstanding shots. The course, like all courses in those days, was not manicured in the way it is today. Greens were slower with inconsistent bumps often affecting the line of play. Fairways sometimes had dry patches that made for tight lies. Rough was not cut to specific heights but varied considerably, even including weeds that abounded in the years before weed control became routine. Scores around par were good scores. The 1928 U.S. Open proved to be an upset of grand proportions. Coming in, Bobby Jones was a name to reckon with and most everyone thought he would take the trophy. Instead, Johnny Farrell, a club pro who had competed on tour, emerged the victor. It was a hard fought battle from start to finish. At the end of regulation the two were tied at 294 for 72 holes. They played a 36 hole playoff. And they played it well, Farrell taking 143 shots (70-73) and Jones 144 (73-71). Interestingly, if the match had been played at match play, Jones would have won by one-up! News reports of the day called the competition “thrilling.” It described Farrell as having “bulldog courage and a lion heart.” Of course, the same could be said of Bobby Jones, who, unlike Farrell, was not playing for prize money but for the honor of victory. The difference in the scores might have been the last four holes in the morning round, where Farrell got hot, really hot, and birdied all four of them! Or it might have been the ninth hole, which seemed to jinx Jones. At least that’s the way it looked because on this par-four hole, Jones took fives and sixes on every one of the six rounds! Astonishing! Here’s the way the play on the final playoff hole, the 18th, was reported by golf writer E. M. Adams in a publication called The Voice of the Golfer. Bobby Jones was one down at the time. Of course, there was no television, so this was a “word picture.” “Now picture this scene. A 490-yard hole slightly dog leg, the tee on a hill, well back among some large trees that hug the line of play on the left. Two large traps, one on the right, one on the left 235 and 250 yards from the tee, guard the tee shot area. A ditch crosses the fairway 365 yards out and from which the ground rises gradually to the green set back among large trees. Five thousand people were banked behind the green and lined down each side of the fairway. It had started to rain pretty hard as Johnny took up his stance to drive on that last hole. The sky was getting blacker every minute to the north and it would only be a matter of minutes before a deluge would break loose. The crowd was restless, many in the gallery had faithfully followed each shot and were envisioning another 36 hole playoff the following day. Johnny had been smiling at the seventeenth hole but when he walked out on the eighteenth tee, grim determination had replaced that grin. He drove to the rough at the right near a trap and his second shot was short in the rough on the left. Bobby had a beautiful shot off the tee, down the center. He purposely pulled his spoon shot to the green but the ball hit a spectator off the green to the left. Farrell played a great pitch from the rough that was dead on the pin and the ball stopped seven feet short of the hole. Jones’ ball had been kicked by a policeman after it had come to rest, and the U.S.G.A. permitted him to replace it. Bobby carefully sighted the line to the hole and chipped to within two feet of the cup. The gallery gasped and cheered. Bobby had made his last big effort to keep the match going and Johnny had to sink that putt to win and save another playoff. Farrell then showed that he, too, had the grit and courage that makes great men and champions. He walked up to his ball carefully studying the green, crouched down to sight the line and as he prepared to make his putt, a number of cameras broke the deathlike stillness that surrounded the green. Johnny stepped back from his ball, and requested the referee to please ask the cameramen to refrain from taking photographs until after the shot had been made. The referee spoke to the photographers, Johnny walked back to his ball, took up his stance, and without hesitating tapped it. Ten thousand eyes watched the ball roll straight toward the cup--it seemed a long time getting there--it finally disappeared from sight and the cheering that arose from the gallery paid just and due honor to one of the greatest, finest boys who has ever won the National Open championship.” Ironically, during the first 36 holes of the championship the USGA had paired Farrell and Jones along with Walter Hagen and a man named Maurice McCarthy from New York. Jones opened with a 73, three back, while Farrell had a 77. After two rounds Bobby Jones led the field with a 144. Farrell had a 151. Few would then have backed Farrell in a bet to win. But that’s golf. No different today than it was in 1928.

Date: 2000/02/20 Sunday Page: 002 Section: SPORTS Edition: FINAL Size: 747 words Details for World Cup thrashed out By Red Hoffman Star-Ledger Staff    Farrell and Tiger   Because national PGA records prior to World War II are all but nonexistent, a mark established by Johnny Farrell, the longtime Baltusrol pro, was never recalled during Tiger Woods' recent streak of six straight PGA Tour tournament victories. Farrell, in 1927, when the pro golf tour comprised about 30 events, won a then-record 10 tournaments, including eight in a row. That was the mark broken by Byron Nelson in 1945, when he won 18 tournaments, 11 of them in a row. During Woods' streak, Ben Hogan's mark of six consecutive victories in 1948 was cited as second-best after Nelson's. Such a claim differs from biographical stories written about Farrell in the 1954 and 1967 U.S. Open program books in which the late authors, Des Sullivan of the Newark News and Dave Eisenberg of the New York Journal-American, both credited Farrell with eight straight victories. Further credence came from Byron Nelson, who during his first meeting with Farrell's son, Billy, told him, "Sure, I know you. I broke your father's win streak."