In journalism, 30 (written like this –30–) signified the end of a story. It goes back to telegraphy when commercial ‘type-writers’ came into use in the middle of the 19th century.
There are no coincidences in life. We’re part of a connecting principle that links mind and matter and supersedes cause and effect. It’s called synchronicity. It was on full display on a sun-splashed Tuesday morning before the start of this year’s RBC Canadian Open played at Glen Abbey Golf Club in Oakville. It was the 30th Open at the Abbey – the final one, the end –30 –
It was the Hall of Fame induction ceremony, and a small grandstand was erected on the grounds and filled with dozens of hall members, including Wilf Homenuik and former LPGA great, Sandra Post, chair of the selection committee.
But the star attraction was Golf Canada’s special invite, Lee ‘The Merry Mex’ Trevino. He is 78 now, and remembered by all as a top-three player during his era (the 1970s and ‘80s). But Merrymex still has currency, and his knife sharp wit hasn’t been dulled by age.
During his time on tour he was a non-stop jabberer, the alt-Nicklaus, a caramel-skinned, poverty-stricken, beano who rose from a west Texas barrio to become one of the greats. His swing was a geometric oddity that shouldn’t have worked, but did, over and over again, especially in 1971, when he won six times, including the Canadian Open at Richelieu Valley near Montreal. That win gave him the singular title as the first man to hold three national championships in one year – U.S., Britain and Canada. He won all of them in a magisterial four-week period. Sportswriters dubbed it ‘The Triple Crown.’ In his entire career, he won six majors, 29 PGA tour wins, and 29 more on the Champions Tour.
In an odd little twist of the knife, he won three Canadian Opens to Jack Nicklaus’s none, and two came at the Abbey, the course that Jack built for the RCGA – now Golf Canada.
On Hall of Fame morning, Supermex was loose and full to the brim with stories. He spoke extemporaneously, and jumped from subject to subject: his love of Canada (he also won two Canadian PGA titles), the raw power of today’s best players, especially Dustin Johnson, who only days later, won the Open; and then he singled out Homenuik, the Saskatchewan native.
They both played the mini-tour circuit in the 1960s when courses were dog patches and purses were a mere pittance – even if you won. He remembered a stop in Panama where he arrived hungry and broke. That’s when Homenuik took him out one night for dinner. Fifty years later, they were together on stage, and united by a great memory. The Hall of Fame celebration closed the circle on the Abbey better than the RBC Open itself.
But Trevino’s day was far from done. He was shuttled off to the Hockey Hole, the Par 3 near the clubhouse, and that’s where he faced-off with the media. But he was the one that peppered them with questions. Why was there no coverage of the Open in the newspaper to read at breakfast? Where, he asked, are you guys (the media)?
Supermex was right. The golf coverage from the legacy newspapers was thin if not non-existent leading up to the Open. Even during the four days of the tournament, many papers relied on coverage from news agencies like Associated Press (AP) or Canadian Press (CP). For the first time in my memory, the Toronto Star, the largest paper in Canada, didn’t send anyone to cover the Open – even if there was added poignancy because it was the last one at the Abbey.
Many retired golfers seem irredeemably unmodern. Not Trevino – except when it comes to the media coverage. During his heyday, he knew most of the print journalists on tour. Some were as famous as he was: Dan Jenkins and Al Barkow, and later, Rick Reilly, John Feinstein, et al.
When Tiger Woods tied Trevino’s Triple Crown in 2000, the media room at the Abbey was full to bursting. I know; I was there. It was a madhouse. The Toronto Star sent a full contingent: reporter, columnist and photogs.
But by 2008, everything had changed. The economic collapse led to a shrinking advertising dollar, and legacy papers were choking on the exhaust created by a new wave of social media platforms. Everyone, it seemed, was going digital.
Newspapers started cutting back on travel expenses, and reporters. Many relied on freelancers or news agencies for their golf coverage. By the time Trevino arrived for the Hall of Fame Day, AP’s Doug Ferguson was one of the few journalists still left covering the PGA Tour full time.
The group Trevino addressed on the tee was a different media mix, most from digital platforms – many of them bloggers and freelancers.
During my short stint at the Star in the ‘80s, our sports editor would send a large contingent to cover the Open at the Abbey. Our columnist, Dave Perkins, was one of the best golf writers in the business. At the last one at the Abbey (located only 30 miles from the front doors of the Star), it sent no reporters, no photographers, and no Perky – now retired.
But here’s some good news. The .com coverage today is deep. GolfChannel.com and the PGATour.com have more info than you can handle. And the numbers for magazines – both print and online – are healthy, and growing.
According to the 2018-2019 MPA Magazine Media Factbook, more adults (18 to 29) read magazines (95 per cent) than used Facebook (81 per cent). Vividata notes that overall magazine brand reach has remained stable over the past year. Print remains Canadians’ primary touchpoint for magazine brands, with 69 per cent of Canadians surveyed reading print magazines.
Okay, I know. I’m biased. I’m writing this in a magazine, one that has covered the golf business in Canada for the past 24 years. It’s still proudly available in a printed version – as well as online.
The news cycle has shortened. Golfers on all the tours barely recognize the print people these days. Even the few still writing to print supplement their coverage by sending out Twitter or Instagram feeds. And their stories are quickly converted to digital.
But people still like paper. They like to read, or leaf through a magazine. Print is far from dead. Neither is Trevino. He always made for great copy. For me, he put a perfect bow on the 30th and final Open at the Abbey, especially since he won the first one there in 1977. Talk about synchronicity! His presence helped me write this column. That’s why I’ll finish it like I finished all my stories when we were both starting out in our professions.
– 30 –
