I couldn't resist a couple of HWW quotations.
First, this is what good writing is all about:
On Venturi winning the 1964 Open in the killing heat of Washington at Congressional.. HWW wrote:
"…I am sure the crowd would agree with me that the Open reached its dramatic peak a few moments earlier, when after hitting his second shot,Venturi came walking shakily down the long slope. He was going to make it now,he knew, and in response to the tumultuous ovation he received as he descended the hill he removed his cap, for the first time that day. A little sun would not hurt now. I shall never forget the expression on his face as he came down the hill. It was taut with fatigue and strain, and yet curiously radiant .... It reminded me of another unforgettable, if entirely different face - the famous close-up of Charlie Chaplin at the end of "City Lights", all anguish beneath the attempted smile….."
___________
I laughed out loud at this HWW story:
HWW seemed a thing of the pastoral, perhaps English, past. Tweed, of course, was his preferred fabric. He once showed up at a course in all-tweed, including tweed knickers and a tweed cap. It was the middle of July.
"Aren't you a little hot?" his partner asked him.
"Yes I am," he replied.