For Sam The Price Is Always Right

"Maybe. I heard something snap. But a 287 won the Open, and Winged Foot was my kind of course."

What about the other years? The other Opens?

Snead's eyes got round.

"I have to think there were people who didn't want me to win. One year they outlawed my caddie. Another time they paired me in the final threesome of the day, though I was still in contention. I can't blame anybody but me for blowing two or three, but I have to think there were some people who were just as glad to see it happen.

"The best golf I ever played, though, was right after the war when I came out of the service. I won five out of six tune-aments and lost the sixth in a double playoff with Mangrum. Nobody coulda beat me then. Hogan, Nicklaus, Palmer. Nobody. But '49 and '50 were the best years for winning. I retired after that."

"You never retired."

"Audrey, I retired. I'd won more money than anybody that year, I'd won the Vardon Trophy for best average. I'd won more tune-aments. But Hogan got Player of the Year because he won the Open. I said. 'Well, shoot, if I do all that and they make somebody else Player of the Year, what's the use?' So I quit."

"You didn't quit long."

"No."

The Riverview was crowded, but the waitress hailed them warmly and escorted the Sneads to a preferred table. Sam ordered the broiled snapper and Audrey the yellowtail. They were finished before nine. When the check came Sam grabbed it out of the hands of his guest.