Free The Magnificent Masters: Jack Nicklaus, Johnny Miller, Tom Weiskopf, and the 1975 Cliffhanger at Augusta by Gil Capps

a cool-season grass. April was ashoulder month, and it was always a balancing act to keep those two different grasses in harmony during a transition period. In 1975, the Bermuda was stronger as Augusta had enjoyed a warm, wet spring thus far. Sometimes that wasn’t the case. Tough winters could kill the Bermuda and come tournament time the rye could be dying out due to weather or tournament conditions, causing the greens to quicken with sparse grass coverage (and higher scores). In warm years, though, the Bermuda could be strong enough for the grain of the grass to affect putts.
    Under the right conditions, the greens, with their Bermuda base and Georgia red clay, could also get extremely firm. Balls would spin, but players were usually hitting approach shots from uneven or inconsistent lies. When dry, balls could bounce as high as six feet in the air when they hit greens. In those circumstances, the course almost played like a links, just the intent of Jones and MacKenzie, who said, “Most American greens are overwatered, and it is hoped that we will not make this mistake at Augusta.”
    “The approach shots to me were very difficult,” says Koch. Most of the players in the field couldn’t carry the ball to the back hole location on the 18th, or carry it over the false fronts on the 5th or 14th holes and make their ball stop. “That’s why guys like Weiskopf, Nicklaus, and a handful of others did so well,” says Koch. “The ability to hit the ball way up in the air was a huge, huge advantage back then at that golf course.”
    The fairways were also overseeded, with fescue grass being used starting in 1973. The transition period could produce inconsistent conditions that favored high-ball hitters as well. “You could have fairways that were pretty thin,” says John Mahaffey, who made his second Masters start in 1975. “It would benefit a guy like a Watson or a Nicklaus who hit the ball high and picked it. They could count on the height of the ball to stop it, not the spin.”
    Once on the greens, newbies had to decipher their beguiling contours. With the overseed and time of the year, the grain of theBermuda grass and the effect it had on pulling balls was not as prevalent. Players tried to stay aware of the lowest point on the course, the 11th green—local knowledge that Gary Koch’s caddie imparted to him during his first start in 1974. Koch, a putting maestro growing up who was called “Drain” by other players, recalls his caddie reading the break on one putt that left him flabbergasted. “I said, ‘What, are you kidding me?’ Sure enough, it did what he said,” says Koch.
    Along with the breaks, speed was also a big issue. Although nowhere near as fast as they would become decades later, for standards at the time, the greens were very quick. While downhill putts would run out, uphill putts could be really slow. “I can’t overstate how intimidating those surfaces are your first couple times there,” says Strange. Under the right conditions and if on top of their games, short hitters, low-ball hitters, and faders could all win at Augusta National. But bad putters never stood a chance.
    This is the course Strange and the other first timers played as much as they could while experiencing the traditions of the club and tournament. It was hard enough for seasoned professionals to follow their normal weekly routine at the Masters. For a Tour stop, they usually arrived on a Tuesday and played a pro-am on Wednesday, followed by the event. For the Masters, however, even the pros came in Sunday or Monday, played multiple rounds, and hit more balls on the range than they normally would. Young amateurs had no chance. “By Thursday, my body had figured out something was going on here,” says Koch. “This must be way more important.”
    As tradition dictated, all of the amateurs were to be paired with Masters champions. It was the hospitable thing to do—having players who know the course chaperone the