They say (whoever they are) that if 24 hours represent Earth’s existence, we humans have been haplessly banging around for only the final 77 seconds of that day.
Life, as Forrest Gump’s momma did not say, is like a hangover — intense, seemingly endless at times and fleeting.
In that same quite long day, the smallest possible sliver of a second just after 11:59:59 p.m. would represent golf history. And within that, a lone supernova catapulted the game into global popularity, then dimmed, 60 years ago, when Arnold Palmer won his fourth green jacket and final major title.
From 1958 to 1964, Palmer won seven majors. At the time, few beyond Palmer realized those tournaments — not money lists — were the measure of greatness. In the process, he revitalized the Open Championship and the U.S. Open and turned the Masters into must-see TV. Perhaps someone else, eventually, could have done the same. Perhaps.
Considering the oversize impact Palmer had on the game, his reign was surprisingly short compared to those of Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods. But cometh a nanosecond, cometh the King.
