Defeated by the Rule

Few sports are so rulebound as tournament golf. A competitor can be penalized for carrying more than 14 clubs in his bag (two strokes for each excess club), for accidentally moving a ball (one stroke), for playing too slowly (two strokes), or for wiping mud off his ball (two strokes). Yet few are so strict or so harsh in their application as Rule No. 38, which holds a player responsible for the accuracy of his scorecard --even though he does not keep his own score. His opponent does: each player checks his score, then both sign the card, attesting to its correctness. Reads the rule: "If the competitor returns a score for any hole lower than actually played, he shall be disqualified. A score higher than actually played must stand as returned."

Last week Rule No. 38 deprived Argentina's Roberto de Vicenzo of at least a tie and perhaps a victory in golfs most prestigious tournament: the Masters, at Augusta, Ga. After 72 holes of brilliant golf, De Vicenzo finished with a score of 277, eleven under par. Tired, anxious (competitors were still out on the course), assailed by the hubbub of the huge gallery, Roberto gave his scorecard a cursory glance and signed it.

Masters officials then marched him off to the clubhouse to prepare for a TV interview. Minutes later, they called him back -- and informed him that his card was inaccurate. On the 71st hole, in full view of the gallery and countless millions of TV watchers, Roberto had scored a birdie three. But his playing partner and scorekeeper, Tommy Aaron, had marked him down for a par four -- and De Vicenzo had not caught the error. Under Rule No. 38, that four stood official, giving Roberto a 278 instead of a 277. When Bob Goalby later came in with a 277, he was the winner.

De Vicenzo's blunder cost him $5,000 in ready cash--the difference between first place and second--plus the possibility of endorsements and other benefits that accrue to a Masters champion and may be worth as much as six figures. It also cost the 45-year-old Argentine, winner of more tournaments (upwards of 120) than any player in history, perhaps his last chance at the title that would crown his 30 years as a pro. Distraught as he was, Roberto took the loss with grace. "There is so much pressure," he said, "that I lose my brain. I congratulate Bob Goalby."

Math as Well as Skill. It was not the first time that Rule No. 38 caused a golfer grief: Hawaii's Jackie Pung actually won the 1957 Women's Open, but was disqualified because her card showed a lower score for one hole than she had actually shot (although the total on the card was correct). Nor will last week's incident be the last--unless something is done about changing a rule that requires a golfer to test his math as well as his skill under the stress of competition, and penalizes mistakes without regard to intent.

Certainly nobody in his right mind gives himself a higher score for a hole than he actually shot. Why should he be penalized at all for such an obviously unintentional goof? Only in the case of a golfer who signs for a lower score does the question of intent arise--and even then, a quick investigation should satisfy officials as to whether cheating was involved.

Many of De Vicenzo's fellow pros feel that it was Roberto who was cheated last week, and they are plumping for a change in the rule. Why, demands Frank Beard, should a purely technical error such as De Vicenzo's not be corrected, even if it is discovered hours later? Gardner Dickinson insists that if anybody should have been penalized, it was Scorekeeper Aaron. Tom Weiskopf, No. 1 money-winner (with $64,122) thus far on the 1968 tour, thinks that rules makers should treat golfers as honorable gentlemen and let them keep their own scorecards. Adds Beard: "We know what our score is and what the other fellow has. No one can cheat."

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