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New York City, New York: A West Texas family was dealing with disappointment 45 years ago, feeling the brand of loss tightly knit families invariably experience when they confront disappointment. Bad news had been delivered by an examining doctor. It had to do with the family’s son and brother, Walter Driver Jr.—his tennis career had ended.
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Walter Driver Jr., President, United States Golf Association |
“I can remember when tennis was out of the picture—kind of wandering around—it was almost like we’d had a pet die,” Walter Driver Jr. remembers today, as he sits in the Manhattan office of Goldman, Sachs & Co., the global investment firm he joined last year as Chairman- Southeast. “Everybody was upset. This was a great disappointment in the family.”
Time passes. Attitudes change. New paths are explored. Walter Driver Jr. turned a setback into an adventure.
His move to golf begot a splendid playing career, an offer of a golf scholarship to Stanford, trips to the British Amateur and to the U.S. Mid-Amateur Championships, followed by a steadily evolving experience in golf’s organizational galaxy, which led him to the United States Golf Association, and this year, to his capstone moment when Driver was elected USGA president.
He is a 61-year-old lawyer of significant achievement who now heads a golf body that oversees the United States Open, as well as 10 amateur championships. The USGA, we should be reminded, tracks the handicaps of more than five million golfers; has committed $65 million in the effort to make golf more accessible and affordable; establishes and enforces the Rules of Golf; is a leader in turf-grass research and is publishing a landmark study on golf’s environmental impact and how open spaces can best be preserved; employs more than 300 people; and is currently expanding Golf House, in Far Hills, New Jersey, to include the Arnold Palmer Center for Golf History. The Palmer Center is expected to open in 2008 and will double Golf House’s existing capacity.
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Walter Driver Jr. (left) with his son and caddie, Walter Driver III, at the AT&T Pro-Am in Pebble Beach. |
Driver, a handsome man who dresses accordingly, is smiling on this winter morning in Lower Manhattan in spite of his merciless schedule and responsibilities. He regularly travels to New York from Atlanta, his hometown since he and his wife, Bettie, married 35 years ago. Atlanta was where his law career began as an attorney for King & Spalding, where he would eventually head a firm of 800 lawyers. It was in Atlanta where his golf career continued to flourish on the amateur level, first at East Lake Golf Club, and then at Peachtree Golf Club, where he would become a two-time club champion en route to his British Amateur and U.S. Mid-Amateur experiences.
He is an ambitious man determined to follow through on a progressive USGA agenda. Making golf the game of opportunity for many who feel excluded because of cost or golf-course access is a goal, as well as a target, for the USGA’s $65 million in seed money devoted to bringing golf to the masses.
“We need to provide better access at a lower price,” Driver says, realizing his personal golf story is one that could be repeated, in variations, throughout America and the world. “We need to encourage family support. If mom and dad don’t support their child’s interest in the game, odds are the child will not become a golfer.”
In listening to his words, you become party to a flashback. You grasp the origins of a man’s golf career, circa 1961, in a west Texas town separated from Mexico by the Rio Grande River.
It was an eminently smaller world then. El Paso, Texas, which is farther west than Denver, had wonderful character and charm in the view of a Driver family that had known El Paso as home for generations.
But in that desert town, at that time, when tennis had been such an integral part of a family and its identity, it could be difficult to see how another game could bring opportunity and gratification to a 16-year-old boy whose tennis career had just been declared dead.
Walter Driver Jr. had broken his arm playing football. The fracture was missed on an X-ray and when Driver continued to play tennis endlessly, as was the family habit, his arm became so inflamed the physician had no choice but to tell a teenage boy to stay away from his racquet. Perhaps forever.
It was a blow to his father, Walter Driver Sr., who had been a standout competitive tennis player (Junior Davis Cup team, NCAA Doubles Champion, and an accomplished player in the Southwestern Tennis Assn.) and who was grooming his son to be a champion.
It forced an adolescent boy who loved sports to try the game his father had been playing for a year: golf.
His Discovery of a New World
Walter Driver Jr. was good, very good, at golf. He took no instruction other than reading Ben Hogan’s Five Easy Lessons, but within a year was a scratch player, which speaks of talent so natural we’re all entitled to a moment’s jealousy.
Then would come the offer of a golf scholarship to Stanford, and to a distinguished amateur career that paralleled his ascent in law (after receiving a degree in political science from Stanford he entered the University of Texas law school) and business. All of this because of a broken arm, a bad X-ray, and subsequent aggravation of an injury that became so bad Walter Driver Jr. could not even raise a fork to his mouth at dinnertime.
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| Driver (left) with Former USGA President Fred Ridley at the 2005 U.S. Amateur Championship. |
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Try and tell the USGA president today that opportunity has no relationship with setbacks.
Driver, on this winter morning, could sit in his comfortable 22nd-floor office on Wall Street and smile at fate and its capacity to surprise.
“I wanted to play something,” Driver said, whimsically, remembering his life-changing shift to golf. “It was a family crisis that I couldn’t play tennis anymore, because that meant I would never be as fine a player as my father was—which was going to be the case in any event.”
And, so, the broken arm and its repercussions became “a nice, graceful out of a circumstance” that was already creating some anxiety for a son who saw little hope that he would become the national tennis figure his father had dreamed about.
The younger Walter Driver—his father was a home builder—became so absorbed by the game of golf that he could be just as happy playing with teens his age, or by himself, regardless of the season or weather. There was that memorable New Year’s Day when he was still in high school. Snow covered the ground in El Paso, which was not the most common climactic event in West Texas. Driver grabbed his clubs and headed for the golf course anyway. Patches of snow were no hassle if you could still hit the ball and enjoy some sunshine.
Within a year of taking up the game he was shooting par—or better. Driver played in the Texas State Junior Championship scant months after turning 17, joining three young cohorts on a train ride to San Antonio where they would be lodged in a motel across the street from Breckenridge Municipal Park Golf Course, the tournament’s site. It was big-league stuff for a teenager in the summer of 1962.
Next for Driver was Stanford. There was enough of a golf scholarship offered to make undergraduate years possible at a San Francisco Bay-area educational landmark. Summer jobs in heavy construction paid other bills until law school, at the University of Texas, followed.
Driver had, by that time, experienced one of golf’s enduring graces. The game promotes friendship. After his parents joined El Paso Country Club—at about the time Walter Jr. discovered the game—a boy still in his teens saw how golf could function as the perfect venue for forging relationships.
He gained greater insight there as months and years passed, and as his skills made it steadily more comfortable for Walter Driver Jr. to join older men on the tee. It is easy to see, in 2006, how those days and times affected a young man’s future place in a game so intertwined with human relations.
He remembers, in the same way, a friendship enjoyed while playing golf with the son of El Paso Country Club’s PGA professional, Jack Hardin, the man who later crafted a folding golf club that astronaut Alan Shepard used to swat his famous shot on the moon.
And Then There Was Bettie
They met on a blind date during law school, her first week at Texas Law School, and dated until both had graduated and each was facing career choices: Bettie had a job waiting for her in Dallas. Walter had just joined King & Spalding.
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Walter and Bettie Driver pose for a candid shot in his office. |
“Bettie told me she was going to go to Dallas unless we got married, and I said, ‘Okay, let’s get married.’” Driver recalls, laughing at the simplicity of a moment so profound. “It was a great thing for her to do. And I did it, and I’m very happy we got married.”
It was December 1970. Bettie and Walter were young professionals so broke they had to buy their wedding rings at a pawn shop. It wasn’t much better as they settled into home in Atlanta—a rented, two-room apartment in a house basement.
Bettie was clerking for a federal judge. Walter was busy with King & Spalding, which represents international clients involved in all types of legal matters.
Golf Was Never Far Away
Even on his wedding day, Walter and his groomsmen and some friends squeezed in 18 holes a few hours before vows were exchanged. Not long after the honeymoon, Driver joined East Lake Golf Club, the home of Bobby Jones, which was having such financial trouble Driver was able to join for a few hundred dollars.
He became the club’s lawyer and entire greens committee and for one year functioned as East Lake’s answer to a golf course superintendent.
“They got about what they paid for,” Driver cracks.
He also was introduced, seriously, to golf’s executive world. First up: a five-year stint as general counsel to the Georgia State Golf Association, which carried a spot on the executive committee.
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| Brian Harman walking left of Walter Driver who greets player Anthony Kim at the 2005 Walker Cup. |
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Next in line was the 1989 Walker Cup, played at Peachtree Golf Club, which Driver had joined. He was on the event’s steering committee, charged with taking care of the competing teams. This was the place where he would meet golf leaders from overseas and would gain his first introductions to USGA officials. It was also an experience that taught him how essential and valuable were the volunteers who make golf tournaments such exquisite examples of teamwork and pride.
There was only one casualty as Driver began balancing family obligations (he and Bettie have three children: daughters Eleanor Post, 31, and Anna Wick, 28; and a 24-year-old son, Walter III) with increasingly broad duties in golf’s administrative world.
He was playing less golf.
A man who competed in the British Amateur in 1973 and ’85, and in the U.S. Mid-Amateur in 1982 and ’84, was saying goodbye to tournaments and to a gratifying amateur experience.
“Work kept accelerating, family needs kept accelerating,” Driver remembers. “Then, there was the volunteer work for the Georgia State Golf Association, and I just found that competitive golf was going to be toward the bottom of the list.”
Driver makes it clear the decision to scale back was his—not Bettie’s. There are countless golfing husbands who long to hear the words Walter heard from his wife.
“She’s been very tolerant of golf all the way through,” he says, with a grateful smile. “She’s my biggest supporter and cheerleader, and she’s always said that golf made me happy and, therefore, that was a good thing for me.”
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