Steve Bergum: Local man had it right about Hogan

Bob Codd is a self-admitted “golf nut” and loyal subscriber to a variety of golf-related publications.

And while he eagerly awaits the arrival of each magazine and dives headlong into the contents of every issue, he has learned first hand not to trust everything he reads – especially when it contradicts something he has witnessed.

Earlier this spring, the 77-year-old Codd, a longtime member at Manito Golf & Country Club who is “semi-retired” but still dabbles in commercial real estate leasing and property management, was reading an article in Golf Week magazine.

According to Codd, the article, which was written by Jeff Rude, included references to several off-beat occurrences of 2006 – one of which involved a golfer who had registered two holes-in-one during the same round.

“It concludes by saying that Ben Hogan never had a hole-in-one, ever, in his career,” Codd added.

That passing comment about Hogan might have been accepted as fact by many readers, but not Codd.

Why?

Because he was at Indian Canyon Golf Course following Hogan and several of the country’s other top professionals when “Bantam Ben” knocked his tee shot into the cup on the 161-yard, par-3 fourth hole during the final round of the 1947 Esmeralda Open.

Codd, who was 17 at the time, was in the gallery with several of his close friends and teammates on the Gonzaga High School football team when Hogan made his ace.

And what made the moment even more memorable was the fact that their high school coach, the late Bill Frazier, was carrying Hogan’s bag.

“We all wanted to go out and watch that,” Codd explained, “because Hogan was a master, like Frazier, of chewing people out. And he chewed out Frazier a couple of times.”

The first dressing down of their coach came on the practice range. Range balls weren’t a part of the game back then, so players would bring their balls, bat them around and then send their caddies out to retrieve them.

Codd and his friend were at the range when Frazier was out running down Hogan’s practice balls.

“Coach was out there running around picking up balls, and we all kind of laughed,” Codd said. “Then Hogan whistles and tells him to come on in.”

According to Codd, Frazier did as ordered and dumped the practice balls at Hogan’s feet, saying, “Well, I got them all but two or three, and those went over the fence. The only way to get them would have been to climb the fence.”

To which Hogan responded, “Then you better get climbing, boy.”

“It was hilarious,” Codd recalled. “He was talking that way to our football coach, and we’re not saying a word. We’re just sitting there trying not to laugh.”

In any event, Codd and his friends witnessed history that day.

“So as soon as I read that Hogan never had a hole-in-one, I knew that was wrong,” Codd recalled.

Still, he felt obligated to make sure his memory banks had not short circuited, so he went to the public library to research the matter. There he discovered a microfilm copy of The Chronicle newspaper that had carried the story on the final day of the tournament.

The story told how Herman Keiser, who had won The Masters the year before, had held off Hogan, Ed Furgol and George Fazio by a single stroke to claim the “fat check” of $2,000 that went to the winner of the Athletic Round Table-sponsored event.

Near the end of the piece was a mention of Hogan’s hole-in-one – the fifth of his career, as it turned out. Also included on the page was a picture of the golf legend plucking his ball out of the cup on the fourth green.

Armed with documentation, Codd went home and rifled off a letter – along with a copy of the newspaper article – to Golf Week, noting the error in Rude’s story. He also sent a copy of his letter to a longtime doctor friend back east.

The magazine later published the letter, leading Codd to consider the issue closed. But then later this spring, his doctor friend – who happened to be carrying his copy of Codd’s letter at the time – ran across Rude at The Masters in Augusta, Ga.

He showed the letter to Rude, who graciously hand-scrawled a note to Codd, apologizing for the mistake and thanking him for helping set the record straight.

“I thought that was a nice touch,” said Codd.

A touch, no doubt, that made Codd’s nostalgic research effort all that much sweeter.