Just a Guy

I WAS A young man 30-plus years ago, and Arnold Palmer was my age now—late 50's. We were sitting on the veranda at Melbourne’s Suntree Country Club, an original stop on what was then called the Senior PGA Tour, which Palmer helped establish.It was just me, some other sportswriters and the King of Golf, who was more interested in flirting with the pretty waitress than he was talking with us. That was Arnie. 

- Peter Kerasotis

Just a guy. 

Arnold Palmer first entered my world at the same time I started to understand there was a world around me. In this case it was Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf in the early 1960's, flickering into our family room on a black-and-white TV, with my dad telling me (only a few dozen times through the years) that his favorite golfer and his wife were born in the same years as he and my mom—1929 and 1934, respectively. Only one of those four remains—my mom. Winnie Palmer died in 1999, my father in 2007 and Arnold Palmer in September.

This isn’t the only connection I’ve felt with one of the most enduring, and endearing, American icons. Later in the 1960's, we all ended up in Central Florida—my family in Merritt Island and the Palmers at their part-time residence at the Bay Hill Club & Lodge. Then there was the time, 19 years ago, when my father had a prostate cancer scare, while Palmer actually did have prostate cancer. As part of a fact-finding mission for my dad, I asked Palmer about the procedure he’d chosen. He gave me an expansive answer. That was Arnie. 

Just a guy.