Saturday, June 20, 1998

Down the middle with grace and class

By Bob Greene

Basketball, for self-evident reasons, has been dominating the sports headlines in recent days, and soon enough the major league baseball pennant races will take over.

In the midst of all this, though, it may be worthwhile to spend a moment or two on a quiet story about golf.

Those who love golf have an almost religious attachment to it. The rest of us are sometimes mystified by its appeal. Yet, in a sports world where big-league athletes are increasingly known for their rude indifference to fans, for their unwillingness to do any more than is absolutely required by their contracts ...

Well, this little golf story sort of tells itself.

Donn Duvall, who lives in the small town of Clinton, Ill., worked as a caddie at the Clinton Country Club in the 1930s. "The course was real, real hilly, and a lot of days I would carry double," he said, meaning he would carry bags for two golfers. "I would make 50 cents for 18 holes -- a quarter from each golfer."

And he fell in love with the game. For all of his life, he has played golf, gone to golf tournaments as a spectator, watched the big events on TV. "It's as beautiful a game now as when I first learned it," he said.

As he grew older, he developed serious health problems. A stroke, then two cancer surgeries. As he approached his 80th birthday, his spirits often weren't too high.

His daughter, Ann McDonald, 44, of Glen Ellyn, Ill., wanted to do something to cheer her dad up. In the months before his birthday, she began to do some research on how to get in touch with professional touring golfers. She went to her local library, she made inquiries of the PGA. She got some addresses.

And she wrote letters. To well-known professional golfers, she wrote letters about her father -- about his love of golf, about his failing health, about his 80th birthday that was coming up.

She didn't know what would happen. "You read so much about how distant and arrogant big-time athletes can be," she said. But to do something for her father, she felt it was worth a try.

This letter soon arrived:

Dear Donn:

Happy 80th birthday!

I wanted to take a moment to join your friends and family in wishing you a very special and happy day. I appreciate your being such a supportive fan over the years.

Best wishes for a great year filled with good health and much happiness.

Sincerely,

Jack Nicklaus

And a handwritten card from Don January:

Donn: Happy 80th! Thanks for being a golf fan for so long.

There was the autographed photo from Arnold Palmer; the handwritten birthday greeting from Curtis Strange; the notes of encouragement from Mark Calcavecchia and Tom Watson and Greg Norman. The letters, pictures and cards came from members of the regular PGA Tour and of the Senior Tour.

Some of the names aren't as familiar to the casual sports fan as names out of the National Basketball Association or the National Football League. But they mean something to golfers and golf fans, and as the letters kept arriving at Ann McDonald's house, she began to be overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness toward her dad -- thoughtfulness from people she or he had never met.

Bob Lunn wrote: "Hi, Donn -- I want to wish you a happy 80th birthday. We have something in common -- our caddying background. I started caddying for my grandfather when I was 10 and have loved the game of golf ever since. I hope you're feeling well after your surgery. Again, wishing you a happy 80th."

Some of the professional golfers went out to the store and bought birthday cards. On his card, Dan Pohl wrote: "So, you're trying to use this 80-year-old age thing to get more shots! Shame on you, but I hope it works. Your daughter tells me you had a little setback. You beat this thing, Donn. I'll be praying for you and hoping you're able to get back on the links." D.A. Weibring wrote, "Mr. Duvall -- Your daughter tells me you are a great golf enthusiast and dedicated golfer for many years. I would like to wish you a healthy recovery -- Happy 80th birthday!"

There was an invitation from Doug Sanders to "Get well, and let's play some golf together"; birthday wishes from Gene Sarazen and Bob Tway and Billy Mayfair and dozens more.

Ann McDonald put them all in a box, wrapped the box and, on her father's birthday, gave the gift to him.

For a second or two, he didn't know what the cards, letters and pictures were. And then, his daughter said, he began to cry.

"I had no idea what to expect when I wrote the letters to the golfers," she said the other day. "But let me tell you -- these guys are special. These guys are something."

Chicago Tribune