Wednesday, April 6, 2005 | 9:30 a.m.
Adam Candee covers golf for the Sun. Reach him at (702) 259-4085 or by e-mail at [email protected].
AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Grieving, suffering, Steve Nicklaus needed to escape a tragedy of death by fleeing to a place where life always dawns in his family.
It makes perfect sense why he asked his father, Jack, if they could play some golf in a small town in northeastern Georgia to do it.
Three generations of the Nicklaus family thrive on Jack's success in golf, and no place is more responsible for the birth of it than Augusta National, home of the Masters.
So while Jack didn't intend to play any golf as he mourned alongside his son, he would do anything to try to ease his boy's pain from losing a 17-month-old baby, Jake, in an accidental drowning about a month ago.
His healing trips here with Steve in the past two weeks helped Jack decide to play in the Masters after first saying he likely would not in the wake of his grandson's death. It was Steve, the son who cries himself to sleep each night under the weight of an incomprehensible death, who convinced his father to play in the tournament that is all about Nicklaus nascence.
There is no closing the wound of burying an infant, or even worse according to Nicklaus, enduring the "double whammy" of your own child doing so.
Nicklaus' voice, so passionate Tuesday as he talked shop and so engaging as he charmed a crowd, reduces to little more than a whisper when the subject turns to Jake.
"There's nothing anybody can say," Nicklaus said. "And no matter what you say, it always seems like the wrong thing to say because there is no right thing to say."
Only the Masters could have brought Jack far enough into daylight to play this week. This tournament represents a celebration of his life in golf and maybe, just maybe, he can force some of that to spill over into his family.
Not that Jack will ever need an excuse to tee up a ball anywhere, but Steve convinced his father that he could summon up enough game to meet his own lofty standards. That was Jack's biggest concern about playing, as it usually is now that he is 65.
"You know, next year is going to be harder than this year to try and get a golf game ready," Nicklaus said. "And this year, I can't say it's going to be much of a golf game, but it's going to be what I've got."
Whatever Jack's got is almost always enough to enliven Augusta. You know the facts by heart.
Six times, Jack won the Masters here. Nearly 42 years ago, Nicklaus birthed the legend of the Golden Bear by winning as a 23-year-old kid in 1963, becoming the youngest Masters champion ever at the time.
What the country knew of the Masters was what it knew of golf, and suddenly it knew Jack Nicklaus, the guy who beat Arnold Palmer in a major for the second time in a year.
More than two decades later, when most began writing off his ability to contend on the big stage, Jack found new life in 1986 by shocking the field to win his final Masters at 46 years old. And his tie for sixth at age 58 in 1998 may have been the biggest stunner of them all.
The fierce competitor in him wants to contend, and he is the only senior citizen in the world with the credentials to even think about it. Most likely, that's all he'll do is think, but Jack knows that. In his own words, his time at Augusta has passed.
"I'm not going to come back and clutter up the field if I don't have to," Nicklaus said.
He can make the cut; that much is firm in his mind. A good performance by his standards would stay within 10 shots of the lead.
In reality, a good performance by Jack is merely showing up and playing in the face of tragedy. Forget whatever he shoots. He has reached a point in life where it is just fine to measure success by something other than his own gold standard.
On this plot of land, once a plant nursery decades ago where blooms emerged and faded each year, birth and rebirth are Jack's legacy. The magic this week may not be on the scoreboard, but simply in the message of being there.
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