Burke pays a rare visit to memory lane

By Jim McCabe, Globe Staff  |  April 8, 2004

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Masters week, unlike any other time during the golf year, is as much about paying respect to the legends who shaped the game as about marveling at today's stars. So it was noteworthy to see one of the sport's great characters, Jack Burke Jr., beneath the famous oak tree by the Augusta National clubhouse yesterday morning.

Author of the greatest Masters comeback after three rounds, Burke stormed from eight behind to overtake Ken Venturi in 1956, a year in which he also won the PGA Championship at Blue Hill Country Club in Canton, Mass. It was one of 22 starts he made in the Masters, but in the 30 years since he made his final appearance as a player, Burke has rarely visited.

"It's just so hard to get here, so hard to find a place to stay," said Burke, who remembers when players and patrons stayed at a downtown hotel called the BonAir.

"You'd rarely go a night without some drunk waking you up at 4 a.m. to wish you luck that day."

A different era, of course, and as he gazed out at thousands and thousands of people soaking in the Masters ambiance, Burke marveled at a tournament that is a far cry from the cozy, informal affair it was in the 1950s and 1960s. "I can remember having a parade downtown to drum up interest in the tournament," Burke said.

US Ryder Cup captain Hal Sutton picked Burke to be a vice captain for the 35th matches, which will be contested in September, one reason to be around a tournament that would feature so many of the names who'll be on that team.

Another incentive was the 50th and final appearance as a player by Arnold Palmer, who made his Masters debut in 1955.

"I sat with Palmer [Tuesday night at the Champions' Dinner]. We shared some chicken, but I took out a rope and said, `Arnold, let's practice getting behind the ropes.' "

A finishing hole

There is a change for this year's tournament -- provided a playoff is necessary. The format will continue to be sudden death, the only major championship to use that, but instead of starting at the par-4 10th hole, it will begin at the par-4 18th. If a tie remains, players would go to the 10th, using those two holes until a winner is decided. "We just thought it was best," said Masters chairman Hootie Johnson, though apparently two factors played into the decision. One, patrons are already in place at the 18th green and along the fairway. And two, the 18th green sits higher and in more sunshine, whereas the 10th and 11th holes are lower and consumed by shadows. Since the sudden death format was incorporated, it has been used six times, including last year when Mike Weir beat Len Mattiace. Twice the playoff has ended at the 10th hole, four times it has gone to the 11th, a demanding par-4 that is no longer part of the playoff.

Dinner is served

With the challenge of organizing the Champions' Dinner out of the way, Weir can get on to the business at hand -- trying to become the fourth player to successfully defend his Masters title. (Tiger Woods, 2001-02; Nick Faldo, 1989-90; and Jack Nicklaus, 1965-66, are the others.) "I think possibly I've been putting a little too much pressure on myself," said Weir, who missed the cut at The Players Championship and stumbled home T-45 at the BellSouth Classic. "But hopefully it will all pay off this week and I can put it all together." . . . As for the guy who nearly won the Masters in '03, Mattiace has struggled to get back into game shape after injuring both his knees while skiing. He has played three times and made the cut just once, finishing joint 33d at The Players Championship . . . For the Champions' Dinner, it was strictly Canadian fare chosen by Weir, a native of Ontario. That meant elk, caribou, and lobsters. "Am I a caribou eater?" said Woods, responding to a reporter's question. "Never had caribou, no." . . . Weir also confirmed he'd be playing in the CVS Charity Classic, the 36-hole, two-day event hosted by Brad Faxon and Billy Andrade. It will be held June 28-29 at Rhode Island CC in Barrington . . . Scott Verplank has a simple explanation for the way he has suddenly learned to play Augusta National. He missed the cut in each of his first six starts, but has been 43d and T-8 the last two years. Said Verplank: "The best guess I would have is that since they made it longer, they have made it tougher."

Old school

Tim Petrovic, the Northampton, Mass., native and former standout at the University of Hartford, is as passionate a Masters rookie as you'll find. One of the most interesting characters on the PGA Tour, Petrovic was the definitive journeyman -- at one time making pizzas while his career was stalled -- and it wasn't until 2002 that he broke through for his rookie year in the big leagues. He was 35 at the time, but he's been 86th and 36th on the money list the past two seasons and seems very settled out here. He's ready for his first Masters, having prepared by having tuneup rounds several months ago. "I didn't want my first look at the place being the Monday of Masters week," said Petrovic, who played alongside PGA Tour colleagues Jerry Kelly and Patrick Sheehan while at Hartford. The best part of the Masters? It satisfies Petrovic's thirst for as much Bobby Jones information as he can gather. "To think how great he was, with that equipment, the scores he shot on the courses he played, in that era? Incredible," said Petrovic, who earlier this year stumbled upon a prized possession at an antiques shop at Pebble Beach. It was a "flip" book, one of those old-fashioned teaching devices that are long since gone. "You flip the pages and you get the view of Jones swinging a driver, then you turn the pages over and you get him swinging a wedge," said Petrovic. He has played in two US Opens, a British Open, and a PGA, but "this is the most special one." Thanks to the Jones aura.

Caddie shack

Kevin Sutherland didn't qualify for the Masters, but his caddie, John Wood, is here. And he has a formidable assignment, looping for Lian-Wei Zhang, the first golfer from mainland China to play in the Masters. Wood has been cramming to get a feel for Zhang's game, in itself a difficult assignment given the complexities of this golf course. But to compound the issue, there is a language barrier. Had Wood learned any Chinese this week? He took out his yardage book, unfolded a piece of paper and rattled off a few words in Chinese. "That means, `Right side, good,' " said Wood. Then he rattled off a few more. "That means, `Left side, good.' "