After the 1947 Ryder Cup match at Portland, Oregon, Dai Rees, Reg Horne and I flew to Hawaii to play in the Hawaiian Open.
In the first round I was partnered by Vic Ghezzie and Dutch Harrison, both big guys of around 6 foot 3 inches. Going down the first fairway, a thought suddenly struck me.
“Hey, I haven’t got a pencil,” I said.
“We don’t bother marking cards until we get to the 18th,” they replied.
“Well I’m not happy about it,” I said. “I can’t remember the course.” But neither of them would give me a pencil so I did my best to mark my card with a tee.
I played good golf and as I walked off the 18th green I said, “Right, now let’s work this out.”
Dutch Harrison was my marker. He signed the card, gave it to me and said: “You’re 69.”
I looked at it – it was completely blank. All that was on it was 69 and his signature.
I was getting annoyed by now. “Come on, let’s get this right. I don’t know what I’ve done.”
He looked at me and quickly ran through the holes – “4,4,5,4,3….”
You’re 69 like I told you,” he said.