For Sam The Price Is Always Right

"Yeah, I did. I won that par 3 before the Masters. No big deal, but all the good players were in it."

"I don't remember that."

"Well, I won it, Audrey. Just let me tell it, please. If I'd averaged 30 putts a round, I'da won five tune-aments. Up to the Kemper I'd broken par in every one. I woulda won the Masters if I'd averaged 30 putts. Johnny Miller averaged maybe 25 or 27."

"Oh, I like Miller, he's a darling boy," said Audrey.

"Yeah, he's a good one," said Sam.

"What was it you said to him at the L.A. Open last year?"

"Nothing, really. He got upset because he was playing poorly, and he started backhanding his putts, flipping the ball around, and I got him aside and I said, 'Johnny, you're the U.S. Open champion. That's a great honor. It's one I never had. You should play as good as you can, whenever you play.' Later on he thanked me."

What about the Open, he was asked. Does it still bother him that he never won it?

"I coulda won it last year at Winged Foot. It was possible. I don't say it was probable, but it was possible. I had practice rounds of 70-71-70, and was even 36 after nine holes. Then I had to withdraw. I could hardly breathe. When they X-rayed, they found two broken ribs."

"Probably broke 'em when you had to jump off that tractor at the farm," Audrey said. "He'da killed himself if he hadn't jumped."