Bobby Jones: Stroke of Genius Page #3

Do you know why I play golf?

For the money.

I have to win.

Which is why,

whenever you come up against me...

I'm gonna beat you.

I'll beat you.

Thank you.

- Hello, George.

- Good morning, Mary.

- May I have a Coca-Cola, please?

- You surely may.

- Here you go.

- Thank you.

These are the worst conditions

I've ever seen.

Have some coffee.

Thanks. Brought some local papers there.

What are they saying?

A lot of the folks are picking us to win...

even though this Herron fellow

is a member here.

They say Rob's strokes

are absolutely brilliant.

They're still harping on his temper, though.

His "smoldering wrath,"

as one of them called it.

I don't know what I'll do with him.

- Maybe you could talk to him.

- What am I gonna say to him?

The way I see it,

he's trying to please you, his mother...

and the whole damn city of Atlanta.

Throwing clubs may be the only thing

he has to relieve the pressure.

Where is he now?

He's making a telephone call.

His mother?

I don't think so.

Alexa?

No.

It's a couple more days

and then we'll take the train back home.

I can't wait to see you again.

Is your father still sitting there?

Yes. I'm sorry...

about your bad weather, that is.

- I hope it changes soon.

- Me, too.

When I get back I thought

maybe you'd like to come to dinner.

Meet my folks.

Yes, that would be real nice.

I'd better go. Yes, you, too.

Yes, me, too.

Goodbye.

Robert Jones?

- Yes, Daddy.

- I don't know him.

He goes to Tech.

- He knows Matt and John.

- Is he Catholic?

- Daddy-

- Is he?

- No, he isn't.

- What have I told you about that?

You told me:

"Judge not, lest ye be judged. "

And where is he that the weather is so bad?

- You were listening to my conversation?

- I'm sitting right here.

He's playing a golf tournament.

In Oakmont, Pennsylvania,

if you must know.

- The US Amateur?

- Yes.

That was Bobby Jones on the telephone?

He prefers Bob.

- Is he winning?

- He's in the finals.

O.B., he's gonna win this damn thing.

I can feel it. A national championship.

Quiet.

Fore!

- What in the hell are you doing?

- Somebody moved.

- Are you mad?

- It's all right.

Now boarding, Track Three,

Local, Homestead...

Richvale, Rankin, Bradley.

Don't tell your old man.

I guess this is your runner-up year.

You've come second

in four tournaments in a row.

- That megaphone.

- The megaphone didn't beat me.

Davey Herron did.

I lost 13 pounds in that match, O.B.

13 pounds.

I can play 36 holes in the hot sun at home...

and never lose but a pound or two.

I've just got to learn to manage it better.

I keep making stupid mistakes.

You know what Will Rogers said:

"Good judgment comes from experience...

"and a lot of that

comes from bad judgment. "

It's true.

I never learned anything

from a tournament I won.

"If you can keep your head

when all about you

"Are losing theirs

"If you can meet with triumph and disaster

"And treat those two impostors

just the same"

"If you can fill the unforgiving minute

"With sixty seconds' worth of distance run

"Yours is the Earth

and everything that's in it"

"And which is more

"you will be a Man my son"

Hell, just keep it.

- Hi, Bobby.

- Hello.

- Who's that?

- I have no idea.

- Hello, everybody.

- Hey, Bobby.

- This is Mary Malone.

- Hi.

- Mary. Alexa.

- Nice to meet you.

How do you do?

- Do you play golf, Mary?

- No, I don't.

Well, gang, today is January 15, 1920.

Remember it well.

It is the last day we can drink legally.

- There's no way Prohibition can last.

- I read an article in Vanity Fair.

It said we're going on

"the gaudiest spree in history. "

They call this the Jazz Age.

- Here's to jazz, then.

- And opera.

- And Georgia Tech golf.

- And friends.

- Hi, Bobby.

- Hello.

We're having a party at our house.

You want to come by?

I'm with someone. Thank you.

What's your girlfriend's name?

We could call her Marigold,

because that's what she's trying to do.

- Are you sure she's your type?

- That's enough.

She doesn't drink, she doesn't pet,

she hasn't been to college yet.

Bobby Jones!

- I want to buy you a drink.

- I have one, thank you.

- What you drinking?

- It looks like beer.

- Waitress!

- Excuse me.

Waitress, two beers.

- Mary!

- Don't just sit there. Go after her.

- Wait.

- Let me go.

- No.

- I'm going home.

I don't play golf.

I don't go to college and I don't drink.

- If that's what you want-

- I don't care about any of that.

I didn't know you were famous

when I met you.

I just knew that you were sweet.

Maybe you need to find

somebody who can-

I have found somebody.

Bonny Bobby, is it?

- My name's Angus. I'll be your caddy.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, Angus.

That's Harry Vardon.

- Mr. Vardon, I'm Bob Jones.

- How do you do?

It's a dream come true...

to play with you here at the Open.

I saw you at an exhibition

at the East Lake Golf Club when I was a boy.

- Really?

- Yeah.

Now on the tee,

from the United States Amateur...

Robert Tyre Jones, Jr.

B*tch.

Mr. Vardon, you ever seen

a worse shot than that?

No.

- Excellent match, Mr. Vardon.

- Well played.

- Would you like to have dinner tonight?

- I'm sorry. I have a previous engagement.

He's on the verge. I can feel it.

A putt here or there makes all the difference.

- In a word-

- The word is "vanity. "

I have a grandson who is well-equipped...

for the rigors of commerce,

and yet you allow him...

to dissipate his powers

in the presence of idle men.

My son is a grown man, Papa.

I have never dictated to him

the things that shall make him happy.

- And I won't start now.

- Why do you defy me...

and allow in your son

what I wouldn't allow in you?

Because he is my son!

He is my only son,

and there's greatness in him.

I can see it even if you can't.

Angus, this damn wind.

I can't believe how hard it blows.

Even the crows are walking.

- Who made this course?

- A glacier, 15,000 years ago.

Do you know

the definition of "insanity," laddie?

When you keep doing the same bloody thing

and expect to get different results.

Angus, I hate this course.

It's a God-forsaken cow patch.

An old woman with a croquet mallet

could play this hole in three.

I've done it in two.

Laddie, you did wrong.

You can be forgiven for losing

but not for quitting.

There won't come a day when it shall be

forgotten that Bonny Bobby gave up.

Not by them, mind you. But by you!

I heard about what happened today.

The Old Course gave you a thrashing,

did she?

That's her duty.

They were playing golf here

when they still thought the world was flat.

All I really want to say is...

don't give up on her.

She's the grandest course there is.

Hopefully, some day you'll see.

I've been playing golf for 35 years...

I've never seen anyone play it

with more grace.

Whatever you do, don't stop hitting the ball.

Honey, honey, hear that tone

On that slippery slide trombone

Baby beautiful

Tutti-fruttiful

Please don't blow that home, sweet home

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