Me and Travis: How We Did It.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIII, Issue XIV, 1 October 1904, Page 54

Me and Travis: How We Did It.

SIMEON FORD DISCOURSES OX THE GOLF CIIAMPiON'SHII*. Twenty-five eiithiirtirt-dic guJfers, stays the New York “Sun,” met in n private room at the University Chib on July Sth. oil the invitation of Judge Horace Rdsaell. to dine with Walter J. Travis and to hear Simeon I’ord toll how he brought home the American winner of the world’s amateur golf championship at. Sandwich, .England. Mr. Ford made the only set speech, and then only in response to repeated calls to tell how he had ’’trained Travis.” Taking a stance that suggested a crack golfer and twirling a long, black cigar like a putter, the only Simeon made these veil ui rks: W hen me and Travis started to cross the heaving billow—and by the wav. ent re nous, the billow was not the only thing which heaved on the way over: our champ is a champ on land <>.!<.. out on the water he is a chump, and although he never gives up on terra lirma, he gives up at sea mighty easy—as I was s lying. when me and Travis started over that 3000-mile ferry, across which the trans-Atlantic lines are now yanking the scum of Europe at £2 10/ per scum (and (tod knows what, we are going to do with ’em. for heaven knows wo h ive paupers enough here since our tinaucicrs let us all in on I he ground floor >. But. as I \*a.s saying, when me and Travis started to cross t he briny ocean (and F am going to get across this time, if I have to swim across), it was with no intention of adding any fresh laurels to the slightly shopworn ones which already bedecked our respective brows, but to seek a muchneeded rest from the fsiignes of going down to the Harden City Golf Club every day on the 2.05, and to see and profit by the examples of the great masters of the art of golf, the men whose names we American neophytes were wont to conjure with, and with whose deeds we had become familiar through reading the works of that delightful old humbug. Horace Hutchinson, who looks like si?cty. plays like sixty, and yet confesses to but fortyfive. W’e—me and Taxis- in our modesty (for modesty and grivataess ever go hand in hand) had no hope <f ever having to rush that historic growler through the <■UHtamvhou.se. hut we thought we might enlarge our horizon ami improve our game. Travis thought his game might be improved, and I know mine might. We thought we might ’’paint the lily and gild refined gold.” Travis improved his game ami learned some new wrinkles, and I improved my vocabulary and added some new wrinkles.. Well, we got across Hie ocean! Travis was about the bummiest-looking champion you ever saw nt se:». h’s brow ”sicklietl o’er with the pale cast of tlnmght.” anti he spent the major portion of his time leaning over the rail, perfecting his follow through ami easting hG bread upon the waters. His heart was stout, but his stomach was weak. ‘ Ami still the wonder grew That one small man (mild hold all that he threw.” But I got him over—what was left of him - and we went up to Scotland and

got to work putting golf and high balls and low balls. Travin* play wa.s alwmt the* worst you' ever saw. A bain* in arms could have beaten him. I almost beat him myself. Evvrylx>dy licked him, and finally he got licked into shape. At Si. Andrew’s we saw Johnny Low and Balfour-Melville and Tom Morris and the other historic ruins for whiah the place is famous. Then we moved on to Troon and saw the ladies’ tournament. The women certainly are the lump and sinew of Great Britain—certainly the bone. Most of them arc built on the early Gothic style of architecture. But they can play golf. 'freon is in I he centre of the Burns country. Wo visited seven cottages where Burns was born, and five where he is said to have died, ami then Travis called a halt. He said he had smoked Robert’s cigars and admired them foj* their disinfectant and deodorising qualities and had read his poetry, but not to excess, but he said he’d spent four days in his berth on shipboard, and birthplaces made him sick at the stomach. Ami so we moved on to North Berwick, ami there we saw the then champion—■ Maxwell —a human battering ram, who can drive a ball about hall a mile, and Laidlay and Mure-Fergus.son, and we watched them play, amt Travis* heart went down into his sneakers and his knees sinote together (an easy job, as he is a little knock-kneed, anyhow), and he said, ”1.0. there be giants in this land,” and ”1 am no David to go forth and do battle with these Goliaths.” Amt I said: ’’Walter, go to ” T didn’t say where to go to, but I said “Go to. I’nless you gird up your lions and do battle for the honour of America. I will j ide into the breach myself, and you Knorr how unbecoming riding breeches are to me.” And he said: ’’God forbid that this disgrace should In* put on our beloved land.” So he girded up such few loins as he possessed and ho put a Haskell into his sling and ho went forth to do battle, and he Veni, Vidi. Vivid, ami he met the enemy, and they were ours, and he cried ‘ havoc and let loose the dogs of war,” and now he has a little bunch of Irish, English ami Scotch scalps dangling at his belt, running from the jet black of Hilton, through the grey of Hutchinson and shading oil’ into the shrimp-pink of Blackwell. To four things may be attributed Travis’ success. First anti foremost was the influence of that trainer, guide, mentor and friend, whose peerless eloquence is now electrifying you. With ail beeomi '.g modesty, I assert that I was quite a factor in the result. In the first place, constant association with me goaded him into such a state of madness that he simply had tn go out and lick someone. And then lie made a careful study of my golfing style, and by carefully eliminating everything 1 did he attained perfection. Then there was (hat magic putter, borrowed of a friend the day before the tourney. It came from Schenectady, and it was a bird with salt on Ms tail, ft was one of these automatic putters which supplied the intelligence. And then there was the magic black dope cigar, which strong*heuod Tr?vis and al the same time weakened his adversary. And last there was the little old man himself with his heart of oak and his never-say-die, don’t-know-when-lie’s--1 irked. whattlie-hrll, do or-dip make-up. Ready. I think the cigar had a lot to

do with it. It was funny what a deal of comment that created! Early in the match I met Andrew Kirkaldy, of St. Andrew’s, following Travis around and betting on him. ‘He gave me one of them black seegars to smoke,” said Andrew, “and it nigh asphyxiated me, and me a smoker for forty years. He must be a strong man. and he carries my money.” Well, it was funny to see the little man after he lit up and got his forced draught a-going! To see his opponent try to work out to windward of him made you think of the cup races. But Travis would get the weather gauge on him, hold him under his lee. belch forth clouds of dense black miasmatic vapour, and his man would get green round tlic gills, and his eyes would run. and the sweat would start, and his game would fade away—• and it was all over. He reminded me of that marine curiosity, the squid, which is said to give forth an opaque and astringent emanation, which luods the water, blinds his prey, conceals himself and renders the victims he seeks to devour helpless. But all said and done, it was a glorious victory, won by sterling play against a briliant field, and it was the proudest moment of my life when it was all over and “the last armed foe expired.” And I shall’never cease to congratulate myself that I was there to witness his triumph and help root for him, and to my mind the result is conclusive proof of the efficacy of prayer, for f prayed for him like an ill-omened bird of prey. As Mr. Ford proceeded the golfers stood up and cheered again and again, with a wild waving of handkerchiefs. Whenever the orator seemed disposed to stop there were cries of “Don’t hole nut!” and “Tee up!” The golf match was still in progress at midnight.