Numbers to Know: 3M Open

Maybe it was the pro-am at Doral in 1974. Or perhaps a practice round. It’s been 46 years ago, so I don’t recall the exact day. But what I do remember clearly is that a man started coming my way, which I thought was odd since nobody else was following us. After all, I was just three years into my PGA TOUR career and had not yet won a tournament. As he moved closer, I said, “That looks like Byron … no, wait, yes, that is Byron Nelson.â€� I knew what he looked like because I had watched him on the golf broadcasts on ABC. He walked right out on the fairway and said, “Tom, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Byron Nelson.â€� And that’s how it started. Right there. A great, great friendship that certainly impacted not only my career but my life. A friendship that went beyond golf, a friendship truly worth cherishing. THE IMPACT OF BYRON NELSON During what would’ve been AT&T Byron Nelson week, PGATOUR.COM will celebrate the tournament’s legendary namesake with a series of stories, including his impact on the modern golf swing; his impact on those who met him, including four-time champion Tom Watson; his charitable impact in conjunction with the Salesmanship Club; and his impact on the PGA TOUR’s record book, due in large part to his incredible 1945 season. Check back each day this week for a new story. Even before meeting him, I had considered him one of the greats, mainly because of my father’s love of golf history. He always talked about the Great Triumvirate – Nelson, Snead and Hogan. My dad’s favorite was Snead and his golf swing. But he always told me, “You know, that Nelson, he had a dip in his swing but man, could he really play.â€� The next time I saw Byron, though, was under less-than-ideal circumstances. It was a few months later after the final round of the ’74 U.S. Open at Winged Foot. The day before, I shot 69 to take the lead and had a chance to win my first major. But that Sunday, I shot 79 in the final round to give it away. Afterwards, I was up on the second floor of the clubhouse, having a beer with my friend John Mahaffey. In walks Byron – Lord Byron — and the place goes silent. He stood at the swinging doors there and asked me a question. “Tom, could I speak with you for just 5 minutes?â€� I went out to meet him for that private conversation. He started out, “I really enjoy watching you play. You conduct yourself well. You played great yesterday. And today, your swing was just a little bit off. I think you got a little fast, which is typical to do when you have a chance to win the U.S. Open. I know of what I speak.â€� He was consoling me, trying to make me feel better. I was so appreciative of that. Exactly the words I needed to hear at that moment from one of the game’s legendary players. He then wrapped up the conversation by inviting me to his Fairways Ranch in Roanoke, Texas. “I’d love to help you out with your golf swing, if you’d like to,â€� he said. I thanked him for the offer, but I was still working with my coach back in Kansas City, Stan Thirsk. It took me a couple of years but eventually I took Byron up on that offer. Two weeks after the U.S. Open disappointment, I won for the first time on the PGA TOUR, the Western Open at Butler National. And then the next year, I won for the second time – the Byron Nelson Classic. Byron was there to greet me afterwards. Unlike at Winged Foot, we had something to celebrate. Two months after winning in Dallas, I saw Byron again. It was just before the final round of the ’75 Open at Carnoustie. Earlier that day, I had warmed up at Monifieth, which is about 5 miles away. It was something I always did when I played at Carnoustie. Just hit my own balls there before driving over to the course. I was worried about the traffic, so I left early and arrived at Carnoustie with plenty of time to spare before I teed off; I was three shots off the lead and had a late tee time. As I made my way to the putting green, I walked past the press tent. There was Byron standing there with Chris Schenkel, his ABC broadcast partner. I went over to say hello. I then asked Byron, “What do you think it’s going to take today for me to win?â€� He told me, “Tom, the weather has turned bad. The wind’s blowing. If you shoot around even par, you’ll be right there.â€� I’m paraphrasing here, but I do know he told me around even par. And that’s what I ended up shooting, a 72 that put me in a playoff with Jack Newton. The next day, it was Newton who shot 72 in our 18-hole playoff. Fortunately, I shot 71 to win the first of my five British Opens. The next season was not as productive, though. I wasn’t playing well; I didn’t win any tournaments in ‘76. That fall, I called Byron. “Do you mind if I come down?â€� And so I went to Roanoke, and that’s when our relationship really took off, as I got to know Byron and his first wife Louise. I really just enjoyed his company. I always revered the way he treated people, the way he was with people, the way he could give off-the-cuff speeches when he’s entertaining people at golf events, or other functions. He was very natural and funny. And at that time, I was not very good at that, and that taught me quite a bit. Just the way he conducted himself. He loved the simple life, and I saw value in that. He started to love woodworking, and he had created a woodworking shop at his ranch. He wasn’t too adept with the table saw, though. He cut part of his thumb off, and another finger off — a couple of different accidents. But he loved to work with wood, and he created trivets, and a hope chest for my daughter. He had a tool that allowed him to sign his name on the back of everything there — Byron Nelson. Just very special to me and my family. After that, I saw him all the time, especially when Louise had her stroke. I visited Byron often, staying at his ranch. The one memory that sticks in my mind is how committed and loyal Byron was to Louise. I don’t remember how many years Louise lived after she had that stroke, but she was in a very compromised state. Couldn’t move, couldn’t really speak, but she was aware of things going on around her. Byron stayed by her side, constantly, constantly. That loyalty showed what type of man he was to the love of his life. Louise finally passed, and when she did, there was somewhat of a weight that was lifted, but there was also a big hole there to fill. It wasn’t too long after that, Byron called me for some advice. It had to do with this woman up in Dayton, Ohio. He told me the story about meeting Peggy and the conversations that went after that. Then he asked me, “Tom, do you think it’s too soon to start having feelings for somebody?â€� I said, “Byron, you have to follow your heart. You’re a Christian man. You know what’s right for you. You’ll find out what’s right for you.â€� That summer, I was on the first tee waiting to play a practice round at the PGA Championship at Inverness. Here comes Byron walking up to the tee. I see this Cheshire cat grin on his face, and I knew something was up. Byron came over to the tee and he said “Tom, I have something special I want to tell you.â€� Before he could get it out of his mouth, I said “You’re getting married!â€� That started a wonderful, wonderful life with Peggy. I never saw them going anywhere without holding hands. He always thanked her for everything she did, and it was wonderful to see such a great relationship. I’d never seen somebody that had such a love and a humble love for another person as Byron Nelson did for Peggy. That’s what you learned from being around Byron Nelson. The golf was incidental, it was the character of the man, that’s what I will forever be grateful for. He was a lovely man, with a great heart. One of the things that happened after he married Peggy and they were still living on the ranch, they discovered gas there. It was pretty cool. They drilled some wells — I think there were two or three wells that were completed and were successful. He donated some of the proceeds from these gas wells to Abilene Christian University. That’s typical Byron. He was a gentle man, a simple man, but a man of grace, and loyalty. A man who had a great sense of humor, was a ham at heart. He loved to show off in front of people with his golf swing. I always reflect back on the junior clinic I was doing at Preston Trail for the kids during his tournament. Byron was there watching, and I did my exhibition. I said, “All right, Nelson, come over here. I want you to show these kids how to really swing a golf club.” So I gave him my driver. He had his teaching golf shoes on, hadn’t warmed up. I said, “All right, off the deck with the driver. I want you to hit a straight ball, I want you hit a draw, and I want you to hit a fade.” He did exactly what I asked him to; it was beautiful. Right off the deck. No tee. Right off the ground with the driver. I looked at the kids and said, “I don’t think many of you really recognize what you just saw.” I don’t remember the last time I saw Byron. But I do remember calling Peggy when he passed away. I said what normal people say: “I’m so sorry. I am so sorryâ€� and she said, “Don’t be sorry. He’s right where he wants to be. He’s out of the time and the space of the material world, and he’s in his own spiritual world.” How would I sum up my relationship with Byron? For more than 30 years, he enriched my life. Enriched it in so many different ways. His relating of his stories of how he grew up. Stories from when he played the TOUR, the players on the TOUR, the things that he did off the TOUR, the relationships he built with people in the Salesmanship Club and the tournament. People revered Byron for the man he was. They understood what a fine, honest man he was — a genuine man who treated life as a blessing. When you were around Byron, you learned that from him. That’s the beauty of Byron Nelson. World Golf Hall of Fame member Tom Watson won 39 times on the PGA TOUR, including eight major championships. He made 28 consecutive appearances at the AT&T Byron Nelson, winning four times, including three consecutive wins from 1978-80. In 2010, Watson was awarded the Byron Nelson Prize by the Salesmanship Club in Dallas, presented to a person or organization in golf exemplifying the ideas of giving back to the community. He has been described as the “greatest championâ€� in the history of the AT&T Byron Nelson.

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GERMANTOWN, Tenn. – Scottie Scheffler added a green jacket to his wardrobe this year, but he’s wearing something slightly more casual on this Wednesday evening. A Dunder-Mifflin Paper Co. T-shirt and sweatpants cover the thick, 6-foot-3 frame of this former high-school basketball player as he sprawls out on a couch in a rented home in the Memphis suburbs, recovering after a long day in the summer heat at the end of a long year. Sam Burns and his wife, Caroline, walk in the front door carrying plastic bags filled with the barbecue that this area is famous for, and soon the dining room table is obscured by enough red meat to give a cardiologist chest pains. The next day, Scottie and Sam will tee off in the headlining group of the FedEx St. Jude Championship, but tonight they feast. Scheffler and his wife, Meredith, sit at the table alongside the Burnses and Brad Payne, the president of College Golf Fellowship and one of the leaders of the TOUR’s Bible study. Plates are filled with brisket, ribs and macaroni and cheese. Sarcastic barbs are exchanged, existential matters discussed. The conversation shifts at whiplash speed between the mundane and the profound. The scene feels exceedingly normal considering two of the participants are among the best golfers in the world. Professional golfers, they’re just like us. The desire for normalcy is a fundamental part of the relationship between Scottie and Sam, one that’s been mentioned on television broadcasts and in articles throughout the year as the two 26-year-olds have continued to win – seven tournaments combined and counting this season. It’s easy to forget that the two friends, promising prospects since their amateur days, began this season with one TOUR title between them. So much has happened, so fast. Burns has cracked the top 10 in the Official World Golf Ranking for the first time and Scheffler reached No. 1. They were the top two players in the FedExCup for much of the season, as well. “When we get home every night, we are with our wives doing the exact same thing we did a year ago,” says Scottie. “If we are 100th in the FedExCup next year, it’s going to be the same. I harp on that a lot; we don’t want our lives to change a lot off the course. (Staying with the Burnses) is such an easy reminder. If my head actually gets too big, he will be the first to say, ‘You’re being a real jackwagon.’” To which Sam quickly replies, “I would love to.” His smile shows the pleasure he would take in putting the Masters champion in his place. Both couples enjoy a simple existence, even as they’ve earned millions of dollars. Scottie famously drives a decade-old SUV and the Burnses still live in the small Louisiana town of Choudrant, which had less than 1,000 residents and no Chipotles as of 2020. Scottie and Sam have known each other since they were teenagers, but their bond has deepened on TOUR, as has their faith, which they credit as the foundation of their friendship, even more than college football or their shared vocation. The couples have shared rental houses at most TOUR stops this year. They’ve vacationed in Europe together and competed in everything from board games to a spot on a Ryder Cup team and a PGA TOUR trophy. They want to win but also to encourage each other, embodying the famous proverb that says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” They share tips on course strategy and putting drills, but also support each other on those weeks when the center of the clubface feels the size of a pinhead and trade counsel on how to live out their faith and love their wives well. “It has everything to do with who they are in Christ,” says Payne, who’s also their occasional housemate. “Because of that, there’s an elevated sense of security and depth of friendship. They’re not just friends. They’re family. “When you know, ‘I’m not alone,’ there’s a rest and a peace there.” Or, as Scottie says, “We know it’s OK to not be OK.” That’s why he could say after his Masters win that he “cried like a baby” before the final round, a rare admission for a new major champion. It was the most memorable moment from his victory, more than the crucial chip-in on the third hole or the shocking, but inconsequential, four-putt on the final green. The adversity faced by professional golfers pales in comparison to what others may overcome, but there are universal struggles shared across stations. A missed cut is still frustrating, and a stretch of several in a row can send the mind spiraling. Tough times can feel interminable. Isolation can make it worse. That’s why a trusted friendship is invaluable in the lonely world of an individual sport. C.S. Lewis wrote, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’” When Burns went nearly two months between made cuts at the start of the year, Scheffler reminded him that he’d gone through the same thing a year earlier. “When I tell Scottie, ‘Hey, I feel deflated and golf feels impossible,’ he’s most likely felt that exact same thing,” Sam says. They try to be transparent and open with each other, speaking honestly about their fears and struggles instead of blaming poor play on bad breaks or missed puts. Sometimes, simply observing how other navigates their new status in the golf world is enough. Scottie likens it to growing up at Dallas’ Royal Oaks Country Club, where he learned by watching TOUR players like Justin Leonard, Ryan Palmer and Colt Knost. Just as players in the same group feed off each other’s good play, Scottie says he and Sam have done the same this year. The relationship took on a new dimension last fall, when they were both candidates for the final Ryder Cup roster spot. When U.S. Captain Steve Stricker called Sam to tell him that he wouldn’t be on the team, he felt conflicting emotions because he knew the spot would go to Scottie. The Schefflers called soon after, and the couples spoke for a half-hour to process the emotions. “That can ruin a friendship if it’s not something that’s talked about,” Scottie says. He beat Jon Rahm, then the world’s top-ranked player, as part of the U.S. win. Burns won his second PGA TOUR title the next week at the Sanderson Farms Championship. At the time, Scheffler was still without a PGA TOUR win. Sharing those doubts with Burns – “Is this really ever going to happen?” Scheffler admits wondering – helped ease the burden. “Golf will put you in bad places real quick,” Scheffler says. They’ve also been able to share in each other’s successes. Sam missed the cut in his Masters debut this year, but as he and Caroline left their Augusta house on that Saturday morning they asked how they could pray for the Schefflers before the most important 48 hours of Scottie’s career. A month later, Scottie and Sam were in a playoff at the Charles Schwab Challenge. Sam made up a seven-shot deficit, posting a 65 early, while Scottie shot 72, the wind whipping as he navigated the back nine. Scottie made par on 18 just to force a playoff. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easy, did you?” he asked when he saw Burns before the playoff. No, but Burns sank a 40-footer for birdie to win on the first playoff hole. Undoubtedly frustrated after not making a birdie in the final round, Scheffler was still smiling as he embraced his victorious friend. When asked about the early days of their friendship, Sam mentions a pool stick and Scottie lights up at the reference to junior golf-hijinks. During a tournament, Sam broke a pool cue in the TPC Sawgrass clubhouse while using it like a baseball bat to hit a ping-pong ball. The broken piece flew into a window and broke a shutter. “The next year, we were changing our shoes in the parking lot,” Scottie says with a chuckle. They saw less of each other when Scottie went to college at Texas and Sam decamped for LSU, but they reconnected when Scottie joined Sam on TOUR for the 2020 season. Their first time staying together was the two-week stretch in Ohio for consecutive events at Muirfield Village Golf Club. The Schefflers were engaged, and Meredith was still working in Dallas. She was astonished when Scottie texted her to say he was eating pasta made from chickpeas, a healthier option she’d been unsuccessful in convincing him to try. “Who is this saint that’s getting my husband to eat chickpea pasta?” she remembers thinking. It was Caroline, who quickly became friends with Meredith when she joined them on the road after she and Scottie got married later that year. The group’s conversations cover a wide variety of topics when they’re together in the evenings, but golf is rarely one of them. Scottie and Sam cover that during their infamously mediocre practice rounds. The ongoing joke is that if one of them can break par on Tuesday, he’ll probably win that week. They bicker like brothers, arguing over Scottie’s slow response to text messages or Sam’s selective hearing when looking at his phone. The competitiveness that serves them well on the course spills over to the board game Sequence or gin rummy. While some play games for the conversation, for Scottie and Sam it’s admittedly about winning. Sometimes each couple is a team. Other times, it’s husbands versus wives. Caroline, who ran track in high school, shares Sam’s competitive streak. Debating who would win a 60-yard dash between her and her husband turns into accusations about Sam’s false start the first time they lined up. He sarcastically responds that his reaction time is simply superior. “We try not to let them be on the same team too much because if they lose, they fight,” Scottie interjects, hoping to fan the flames. Sam responds, his expression deadpan: “We’re very competitive, so if we don’t see the other one giving their best effort then we need to let them know.” Meredith is the least competitive. “Except when she’s playing against me,” Scottie says. She is known more for being a peacemaker and for her popcorn, which she makes with a machine she brings from home. Garlic hummus is another staple in their house. Even in their sarcasm is their affection apparent. The evening is coming to an end and Payne wraps it up with a soliloquy on the importance of friendship. “We were created for community and fellowship,” he says in closing. And, with that, it is Scottie’s turn to do the dishes.

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Tiger Woods at the top of a golf leaderboard. Alone. It’s how he always used to be, and how many never expected to see him again. And no matter how the Valspar Championship ends for him, Tiger’s second round is a surprise, even for him.

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