Million Air Summer 2020

INFLUENCE THE BIG INTERVIEW

Greg Norman on golf, ambition and independence Australia’s most successful professional golfer, branded The Shark by golf writers almost 40 years ago, is still attacking life. Here he shares with Shaun Tolson his fondest memories from his career — they’re not what you think — as well as his perceived role in broadening golf ’s global appeal

When the Open Championship is next contested in July, 2021 at Royal St Georges Golf Club, the world’s best professional and amateur golfers will attempt to conquer the historic links course set along England’s southeastern shore just as Greg Norman did 27 years earlier. During that memorable tournament in 1993, the then-38-year- old Australian set a handful of records, including the lowest aggregate score for the championship and the lowest final round recorded by any winner — two achievements that went unmatched for decades. “That final round was one you just dream about,” says Norman. “I cannot say in my whole career that I have played a round and not missed one shot, but that day I never mishit a shot. I hit every drive perfectly, every iron perfectly, and only made a mess of one putt. That was the best I ever played in my life.” The victory secured Norman’s second major championship (and his second Claret Jug); it also marked the 68th of 91 total professional victories that the Hall of Fame golfer would claim throughout his storied, 33-year career. More impressive than all of those accomplishments — including the 331 weeks that Norman sat atop the World Golf Rankings — is the manner in which golf’s Great White Shark first took up the game and his meteoric rise once he did. Norman was a natural athlete who spent much of his childhood living along the Queensland coast. There, he devoted his free time to playing rugby, Aussie rules football, cricket and — most passionately — surfing. Golf didn’t enter

position, posture and takeaway. That’s all I studied,” Norman recalls. “I could relate to Jack. I didn’t know him, but [after reading those books] I felt like I knew him.” In time, he really would. During the 1976 Australian Open — Norman’s third professional tournament — the prodigious Australian was paired with the Golden Bear for the first two rounds. Because their last names were so close alphabetically, Norman and Nicklaus’ lockers were side by side. “I got to know him, and he was very embracing,” Norman fondly recalls. “I felt comfortable with him very quickly.” The two Hall of Famers, then at very different stages of their respective careers, shared another connection at that time. Because of Norman’s quick rise up the ranks of Australian golf — not to mention his flowing blond hair, which bore some resemblance to Jack’s — golf writers began calling Norman the Bear Cub. “I’m glad it didn’t set in the way that it could have,” Norman says of the moniker. “It was flattering, but I didn’t want to have that kind of connection. I’ve always wanted to be independent.” Five years later, the media branded Norman the Great White Shark, a nickname partially inspired by the golfer’s aggressive style of play at The Masters in 1981. “As a kid, I was always in perpetual motion and attacking life, so it was a perfect nickname,” he says. “It was 100% synonymous with me.” Reflecting back on his career, Norman acknowledges that there are plenty of moments and events that transpired on the course that he remembers fondly, but those aren’t his

the picture, not until Norman was 15 years old and caddied for his mother, who was a highly capable player with a single-digit handicap. After the round, when his mother retired to the clubhouse for tea, Norman again slipped her bag over his shoulder, only this time he went out onto the course for himself. “I said, ‘If she can play the game, I gotta be able to play it,’ he recalls. “And that was it.” Norman played four holes that afternoon, and while he cannot recall the specifics of his unsupervised introduction to the sport, he acknowledges that he walked off the course encouraged. Soon Norman was partaking in junior clinics on Saturday mornings, carrying his own bag of six cobbled-together clubs. His first official scorecard was marked with a 108, and his introductory handicap was 27 — the

highest that the Australian Golf Union would issue at the time. A year and a half later, however, Norman was a scratch player. Five years after that, he was hoisting the winner’s trophy at the West Lakes Classic, the first of the big money tournaments on the Australian golf circuit that year. It was only Norman’s fourth professional event. “Because I was a very good surfer, I knew where my body was in space at any given time,” Norman says, attempting to explain his rapid improvement as a teenager. “All the ingredients were there, so I just learned how to rotate around the golf ball.” Eventually, lessons were instilled through private instruction, but in the beginning, Norman relied on two books written by Jack Nicklaus: Golf My Way and My 55 Ways to Lower Your Golf Score . “I studied his grip, stance, ball

Photos Michael O’Bryon