Boss Tim

In the fall of 1979 Carter's reelection campaign was suffering from a serious fund-raising shortfall and a spirited challenge from Massachusetts senator Ted Kennedy . To reinvigorate the reelection effort the President made Finchem the national staff director, giving him broad powers to shake up the campaign's machinery. "Tim saved that campaign," says Smith , who served as general counsel for the reelection bid.

The next year Finchem attended the Democratic convention two decades after having been inspired by JFK's performance there, and this time he took his mother, the person who had sparked his political awakening.

"Working in Washington , trying to make a difference, that was a very meaningful time for me, a period of personal growth," says Finchem. "Not that it ever left me, but it all came back to me [in February] when my mom died. The last time I saw her, she said, 'I want you to take me to the convention this summer.' I mean, she's had two strokes, she's in a wheelchair, she's failing. But she says, 'You know, you haven't taken me since 1980.' No sooner had she said that then she dozed off in her chair, so I got her settled in her bed. I kissed her on the cheek and then started walking to the door. As I'm leaving I hear her voice, 'Don't forget the convention.' I look back, and she's asleep again. Those were the last words I ever heard from her."

After Carter lost the 1980 election Finchem founded the blandly named National Strategies and Marketing Group, a consulting firm that helped corporations break into new markets. Finchem couldn't completely leave politics behind. In 1984 he served as national finance director for Walter Mondale during the presidential primaries, and then for the general election he was bumped up to vice chairman of the Democratic National Committee .

It was also in '84 that the PGA Tour , then under longtime commissioner Deane Beman , became a client. In '86 the Tour asked Finchem to help organize a new Senior tour event, the Chrysler Cup. One of the first meetings was attended by a woman named Holly Bachand, who was working for Arnold Palmer 's event management firm. "I was immediately smitten," Finchem says. "After the meeting I told my staff I'd handle this one myself." It took weeks of Finchem's pestering before Bachand would consent to a date. "I was there when she finally said yes," says Smith . "Tim was on a pay phone at Congressional Country Club. He hung up and did what can only be described as an Irish jig. I distinctly remember him clicking his heels together." Finchem and Bachand were married six months later, with Palmer attending the wedding reception.

That same year Finchem was first asked by the Tour to come in-house. He demurred, but another offer came the following year. By then Holly was pregnant, and the Finchems decided that Ponte Vedra Beach would be a nice place to raise a family. Finchem sold his share of his company and became the Tour's vice president of business affairs. "He was impactful from the very beginning," says the Tour's Zink. "Within a year it was pretty clear who would be the next commissioner."

Beman's departure was hastened by his disastrous attempt to ban the square grooves in Ping irons. One of Finchem's tasks was to negotiate a settlement for the ensuing lawsuit, which ultimately cost the Tour millions. That could have been an early lesson on the dangers of hubris, but upon becoming commissioner, on June 1, 1994, Finchem immediately set about reshaping the golf landscape. Says Zink, "The Presidents Cup had been discussed before conceptually, but the execution, as far as getting it done, that was all Tim."

The inaugural Presidents Cup was played in September 1994, after 3 1/2 months of feverish preparation, and even the fiercest Finchem detractor has to concede that the competition has been a home run.

Less than two years after that first Presidents Cup, Tiger Woods turned pro, forever changing golf and the Tour. Woods has certainly made Finchem's job easier, but he has also muddled the commissioner's legacy. Tom Pernice , the outspoken 17-year veteran, says flatly, " Tim Finchem is going to go down as one of the greatest commissioners in sports history, and he owes it all to Tiger Woods ."

That's underrating what a ruthlessly effective behind-the-scenes warrior Finchem can be. He has repeatedly put down challenges to his authority with extreme prejudice. Only a couple of months into Finchem's tenure as commissioner, Norman floated the idea of a new world tour to be underwritten by media mogul Rupert Murdoch . The big-money events would have poached the Tour's top players and badly devalued its schedule. In late '94 Finchem arranged an audience with Norman and the other elite players gathered at the Shark Shootout. For this meeting the commissioner brought along a powerful wingman in Palmer. "Their spin was that it was my deal, about me and for me," Norman said in a 2004 interview with Golf Digest . "I was tarnished tremendously, being branded as someone who was trying to hurt the game of golf."