Don Cherry of the golden voice and the great golf swing still batters par as a full time entertainer.

I‘ve known this little sucker ever since he caddied for me when he wasn’t as big as a minute and later on he always threw more clubs than I ever did.

In one tournament Cherry started out with 1 1 clubs and only had four left when he finished. Now I never did any- thing like that, even though they say I once asked a caddy which club I should use on a 140-yard shot and he supposedly said the three wood or the putter because that was all we had left. That’s a damned lie, I think.

But Don Cherry, the little bulldog from Wichita Falls, TX, could play up a storm. His only problem was that for a long time he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be a golfer or a singer. It was a tough choice because he could sing like an angel and play like the devil. So he tried to crowd both into his life, and did a darned good job at that.

We played a lot of golf together and all I did for him, with his natural talent, was to tell him to finish his swing. Which is what most amateurs fail to do. Anyhow, he had great talent, singing or swinging.

Caddying and playing golf in his early teens he shot a 78 to win the city junior championship. Working as a clerk and runner at Shepherd Air Force Base, Don was drafted in 1941, sent to Abilene for basic training and then sent back to Shepherd. There during the entire war he found time to really practice his golf and in 1942 beat Billy Maxwell to win the Lubbock Invitational. Overall he won 45 tournaments in West Texas.

I won’t say he was a great caddy. But he was a slick article even as a youngster.

At Lake Tahoe I had a wrinkly four-footer and when I turned around to ask him which way he thought it would break, darned if he wasn’t on the next tee swinging my driver.

Another time I asked him how far it was to the green and he grinned: “It’s a four or five iron, either one of them, Tom.”

When I say slick, I mean slick. At most tournaments back then they would have the player’s name in big letters with the caddy’s name in tiny letters underneath. We were playing with Lionel Hebert and there was his name on his caddy’s back in those big letters. When I looked at Cherry’s sign on his back, there it said “Cherry” in those great big letters — and underneath it in those small almost illegible letters it said “Tommy Bolt.”

But when it came time to actually have those big letters on his back, he sure could play even though he always was doubling in brass by playing a “gig” at some club in the area every night.

In 1947, Jan Garber’s band played at a tournament and Don sang three songs. Good, you bet. Garber fired his three vocalists and hired Cherry at $125 a week. Then, everywhere they went, he arranged matches for “The Kid” with anybody who wanted to play for cash. Garber won $375 and gave Don $25.

By this time Cherry was well on his way and in the 1952 U.S. Amateur at Seattle he defeated Frank Stranahan, three and one; Gene Littler, three and two and went to the semifinals where he lost to Al Mengert, three and two. He was the medalist in the Western Amateur with 67-69 — 136, and had four balls out of bounds in that 69.

That got him on the Walker Cup team at Marion, MA, where he massacred Norman Drew, nine and seven. He also played on the 1955 Walker Cup team at St. Andrews, Scotland, where he and Harvie Ward scored a one up win over Joe Carr and Ron White. After the U.S. victory, Cherry sang “I Believe” before 10,000 Scots in what he calls “one of the high points of my life.”

Could he play? In the 1960 U.S. Open at Cherry Hills he well might have tied another amateur, Jack Nicklaus, for second place behind Arnold Palmer but a double bogey on
the 17th hole of the final round left him tied for ninth with Ben Hogan and Jerry Barber, four shots behind Palmer. And he finished ahead of such as Bruce Crampton, Gary Player, Sam Snead and Bill Casper.

By October, 1967, Don was fed up with medals and trophies and turned pro for the Cajun Classic at Lafayette, LA. He won the pro-am and $500. Shortly thereafter at Mobile, he roomed with Tony Lema. “Champagne Tony” shot 68-70 — 138 and Cherry says “I choked” with 74-77 — 151.

In 1970, with music taking up a great deal of his time, he lost his card but finished in the money in six straight tournaments and got his card back.

I was with him on one occasion when he was grousing about his game. Bing Crosby was there and he lectured Cherry: “What are you groaning about? You can beat all the singers playing golf and you can beat all the golfers singing.”

But by 1976, after nine years of playing the Tour, Cherry gave up his PGA card and began devoting all his time to singing, where he was making out like a bandit.

Leading a double gypsy life, Don besides his golf on the Tour had been on with Dean Martin, Johnny Carson, Arthur Godfrey and the Merv Griffen shows. Burning the candle at both ends, he played in numerous tournaments as well as innumerable night club gigs wherever he went, meanwhile cutting records for Decca and RCA.

The first record he cut was “Thinking of You.” Eddie Fisher did it, too. Don’s rendition sold 700,000 platters, Fisher’s 200,000. Later Don did a string of records including “Mona Lisa,” “The Third Man Theme,” “Our Very Own” and “Mad About You.”

This was a fellow with great hands for golf. He shot 60 three times and had 26 holes in one. The longest was on a 317- yard four par where he cut the dogleg with a three wood. The last one, he tells me, was in a “friendly” match with a few kopeks on the line, a situation which brought out his best. On the 160-yard par three ninth at Las Vegas Country Club he said, “Well, I might as well make number 26,” and hit a six iron which took one hop into the hole.

These days, at a fit 5 ‘10” and 170 pounds, he lives, and plays, in Las Vegas where he sings in the Desert Inn Lounge. After a round with him recently he said, “I thank the Lord for a strange kind of life.”

He didn’t even say he was thankful that our bets came out even. Probably wasn’t. He’s used to being a winner.

-TOMMY BOLT
(With a bit of help from the editor)