career. It bugged the hell out of Tom.”
“I remember him saying to me that Jack always seems to find a way to beat me,” says Ben Wright, who became good friends with Weiskopf in the 1970s.
Weiskopf had gotten the best of Nicklaus once in the inaugural Inverrary Classic in 1972. But his eleven wins at the time were overshadowed by eighteen runner-up finishes on Tour—three of them to Nicklaus coming at the 1972 Masters, 1973 Atlanta Classic, and 1975 Heritage Classic. “Everywhere we went, the talk was that Weiskopf can’t beat Nicklaus,” says Murphy.
“I think, in truth, Tom Weiskopf did not believe that he could beat Jack in a major championship on Sunday,” adds Murphy. “I don’t know that there were any of us who didn’t feel that same thing.You had no right to believe it, especially if it was a major. He was going to get you.”
Weiskopf witnessed their differences during one day at the 1973 Ryder Cup at Muirfield in Scotland, when they both played on the United States team.
In the morning, he and Nicklaus partnered in a foursome (alternate-shot) match against the Great Britain and Ireland side of Brian Barnes and Peter Butler. Weiskopf remembers one hole where Nicklaus asked him to read a putt for him. Weiskopf said, “Split the hole on the left.” “That’s exactly what I thought it was going to do,” said Nicklaus. The ball went down in the hole and came out. Nicklaus stared at the ball and the hole. Weiskopf said, “I can’t believe that didn’t go in the hole, Jack.” Nicklaus replied, “I MADE IT. It just didn’t go in.” In his mind, he made it. It wasn’t his fault it didn’t go in.
“That defines him perfectly,” says Weiskopf. “That is what Jack Nicklaus is all about. That is the way he thinks.”
After winning that match 1 up, in the afternoon they were together again, this time in a four-ball match against Clive Clark and Eddie Polland. Nicklaus told his wife Barbara to wait at the turn and just walk the last couple of holes as the match would end soon thereafter. Nicklaus was determined to beat Clark, Polland, and, it appeared, Weiskopf. On one green near the conclusion of the match, Weiskopf’s ball was about ten feet from the hole for birdie, Nicklaus’s just outside him on nearly the same line. “I said, ‘Which way do you want me to move this?’” recalls Weiskopf. “He said, ‘Nah, pick it up.’ I said, ‘What?’ He said, ‘Pick up your coin. Don’t worry, I’ll make this’.” He did. They would win, 3 and 2. He not only put it to the other team, but he put it to Weiskopf who was enjoying the best year of his career. “It was the only time I rooted against him,” he says.
“I wasn’t afraid of Jack, and Jack knew that” says Miller. “Tom Weiskopf probably had the horsepower also to beat Jack and the game to beat Jack, but he was so in awe of Jack that he just couldn’timagine beating Jack Nicklaus. He put him in such high esteem, mentally, the way he prepared for tournaments, how well he played under pressure, how he hit the ball. He was just so impressed with Jack—which you probably should be—but so impressed that he just couldn’t beat him.”
Nicklaus noticed it as well: “I just believe that he didn’t believe he could beat me... And if you think that way, you’re not going to beat somebody.”
From Weiskopf’s side, it was a love-hate relationship that flipped back and forth regularly. “They had one hell of a rivalry,” says Kessler. “Jack would just piss Tom off. He really got his goat. But Tom loved Jack.”
“There was a whole inferiority complex about Nicklaus,” says Wright. One time after a few drinks, Wright recalls Weiskopf telling him, “You know, I get so mad. Everybody says Nicklaus and Weiskopf are great friends. I hate him. I’ve always hated him.
“Nicklaus did in Weiskopf. No question, he destroyed him because he got that bug in his head.”
In the end, it goes back to Columbus. “It would’ve
“I remember him saying to me that Jack always seems to find a way to beat me,” says Ben Wright, who became good friends with Weiskopf in the 1970s.
Weiskopf had gotten the best of Nicklaus once in the inaugural Inverrary Classic in 1972. But his eleven wins at the time were overshadowed by eighteen runner-up finishes on Tour—three of them to Nicklaus coming at the 1972 Masters, 1973 Atlanta Classic, and 1975 Heritage Classic. “Everywhere we went, the talk was that Weiskopf can’t beat Nicklaus,” says Murphy.
“I think, in truth, Tom Weiskopf did not believe that he could beat Jack in a major championship on Sunday,” adds Murphy. “I don’t know that there were any of us who didn’t feel that same thing.You had no right to believe it, especially if it was a major. He was going to get you.”
Weiskopf witnessed their differences during one day at the 1973 Ryder Cup at Muirfield in Scotland, when they both played on the United States team.
In the morning, he and Nicklaus partnered in a foursome (alternate-shot) match against the Great Britain and Ireland side of Brian Barnes and Peter Butler. Weiskopf remembers one hole where Nicklaus asked him to read a putt for him. Weiskopf said, “Split the hole on the left.” “That’s exactly what I thought it was going to do,” said Nicklaus. The ball went down in the hole and came out. Nicklaus stared at the ball and the hole. Weiskopf said, “I can’t believe that didn’t go in the hole, Jack.” Nicklaus replied, “I MADE IT. It just didn’t go in.” In his mind, he made it. It wasn’t his fault it didn’t go in.
“That defines him perfectly,” says Weiskopf. “That is what Jack Nicklaus is all about. That is the way he thinks.”
After winning that match 1 up, in the afternoon they were together again, this time in a four-ball match against Clive Clark and Eddie Polland. Nicklaus told his wife Barbara to wait at the turn and just walk the last couple of holes as the match would end soon thereafter. Nicklaus was determined to beat Clark, Polland, and, it appeared, Weiskopf. On one green near the conclusion of the match, Weiskopf’s ball was about ten feet from the hole for birdie, Nicklaus’s just outside him on nearly the same line. “I said, ‘Which way do you want me to move this?’” recalls Weiskopf. “He said, ‘Nah, pick it up.’ I said, ‘What?’ He said, ‘Pick up your coin. Don’t worry, I’ll make this’.” He did. They would win, 3 and 2. He not only put it to the other team, but he put it to Weiskopf who was enjoying the best year of his career. “It was the only time I rooted against him,” he says.
“I wasn’t afraid of Jack, and Jack knew that” says Miller. “Tom Weiskopf probably had the horsepower also to beat Jack and the game to beat Jack, but he was so in awe of Jack that he just couldn’timagine beating Jack Nicklaus. He put him in such high esteem, mentally, the way he prepared for tournaments, how well he played under pressure, how he hit the ball. He was just so impressed with Jack—which you probably should be—but so impressed that he just couldn’t beat him.”
Nicklaus noticed it as well: “I just believe that he didn’t believe he could beat me... And if you think that way, you’re not going to beat somebody.”
From Weiskopf’s side, it was a love-hate relationship that flipped back and forth regularly. “They had one hell of a rivalry,” says Kessler. “Jack would just piss Tom off. He really got his goat. But Tom loved Jack.”
“There was a whole inferiority complex about Nicklaus,” says Wright. One time after a few drinks, Wright recalls Weiskopf telling him, “You know, I get so mad. Everybody says Nicklaus and Weiskopf are great friends. I hate him. I’ve always hated him.
“Nicklaus did in Weiskopf. No question, he destroyed him because he got that bug in his head.”
In the end, it goes back to Columbus. “It would’ve
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