Jim Nantz: 40 years ago, Jack Nicklaus stunned the world and this first-year announcer

Each spring, a momentous anniversary seems to beckon at Augusta National. This particular year commemorates one of the most legendary—the 40-year milestone since Jack Nicklaus’ epic sixth Masters triumph, a record unmatched by any other.

Even after so many decades, the extraordinary occurrences of Sunday, April 13, 1986, continue to feel like a mythical story to the 7 million television viewers and those privileged to experience that Masters firsthand. Was it truly real? How did Jack achieve such a feat?

On that momentous day, I occupied the CBS tower overlooking the 16th par-3, yet my personal connection to the narrative started nearly two years prior. It was June 1984 when I served as caddie for Jack Nicklaus during an exhibition at Park Meadows C.C., a Utah golf course in Park City of his own design. For the 18-hole inaugural round, witnessed by thousands, Jack extended an invitation to his close friend Johnny Miller. Two local sports commentators were asked to carry the bags for the afternoon. I was chosen as one of them and assigned to the legendary figure. One can only imagine the privilege of shouldering Jack’s substantial MacGregor tour bag for an entire round. The excitement was immense, and Jack even, at times, asked for my thoughts on distances and putting lines. Jack treated his novice caddie with warmth and generosity, despite my guidance leading him to a 73 devoid of birdies, comprising 17 pars and a single three-putt bogey.

The subsequent summer saw my employment with CBS Sports. I was 26, having departed my University of Houston dormitory just four years earlier. Not long after, I learned that Frank Chirkinian, CBS’s celebrated golf producer, had requested the network’s management to incorporate me into his broadcasting ensemble.

Frank typically achieved his objectives, and by January, I found myself at Pebble Beach for our season’s inaugural competition. Upon my arrival, Frank communicated three key points: Firstly, I would not be commentating on the events that weekend. “Your presence here is solely to observe our telecast presentation,” he stated. Secondly, with the Lodge at Pebble Beach fully booked, CBS would instead lodge me in a villa situated off the left side of the initial fairway, a former residence of 1940s golf legend Lawson Little. My companion: The seasoned and somewhat gruff reporter, renowned golf writer Bob Drum. Finally, Frank delivered a significant piece of news: Should developments proceed favorably in the ensuing weeks, including a live debut at the Doral Open, he intended to feature me in the Masters broadcast a mere 10 weeks thence.

I first laid eyes on Augusta National that March, summoned by Frank to record promotional segments for the network’s tournament coverage. When April at last arrived, my adjustment period was brief. The broadcast tower’s proximity to the play necessitated that I learn to modulate my voice to avoid disturbing the competitors. Later in the day, I observed the sun setting behind me, casting a brilliant glow upon the players as they struck their tee shots. This powerful illumination caused the golf balls to seem larger than their actual size, making it feel as if I were following oversized spheres, rather than objects measuring 1.68 inches across.

The moment had come for me to ‘lay out,’ which in broadcasting terms means to remain completely silent.

That Sunday, the top of the leaderboard boasted an array of legendary, Hall-of-Fame figures. Greg Norman, who led after the third round, and Nick Price, who had achieved a course-record 63 on Saturday, formed the final duo. Immediately preceding them were Seve Ballesteros, vying for his third green jacket, and Bernhard Langer, then aiming for consecutive wins. Tom Kite was also contending, alongside Corey Pavin, Tom Watson, and Sandy Lyle. Nicklaus found himself in a tie for ninth, trailing by six strokes. Jack was not expected to have any prospect of victory. At 46, he hadn’t secured a major title in half a dozen years. From my vantage point observing his 73 in Park City, it seemed his prime golfing years were well in the past.

Jack surged into contention with birdies on the ninth, 10th, and 11th holes. He conceded a bogey on the 12th but swiftly regained momentum with a birdie on the 13th. His eagle on the 15th suddenly placed him just two shots adrift of the front-runner, Ballesteros. As Jack poised himself to tackle the par-3 16th, I promptly shared details of his illustrious past on that specific hole, highlighting his crucial birdie in 1963 en route to his inaugural green jacket and his memorable 40-foot uphill birdie putt in 1975 to hold off Miller and Tom Weiskopf. As he took his stance over the ball with a 6-iron, the moment arrived for me to “lay out,” which in broadcasting terminology means to cease all commentary.

Before I realized it, the “beach ball” was soaring in my direction. Having observed countless shots over four days, I recognized that this one was destined to be precise. As the ball glided down the incline and softly rolled towards the hole, visions of an ace flickered in my mind. Serendipitously, I had inquired with Frank earlier that morning about the proper protocol for announcing a hole-in-one. With his characteristic bluntness, he had retorted, “Son, this is a visual medium. Should you ever speak over such a moment, I will exit the truck, descend to the 16th, and personally eject you from the tower!” With that warning resonating in my thoughts, I uttered only, “right at it” while the ball was airborne. When it came to rest three feet short, I spontaneously cried out, “Oh, my!”

For the subsequent five minutes, I maintained virtual silence. Frank, with his masterful direction, allowed the camera to stay fixed on Jack as he progressed along the water’s boundary towards the green. Jack sank his birdie putt perfectly, and as he walked off the green amidst the thunderous applause, I declared, “There is no doubt about it, the Bear has emerged from hibernation.”

Bettmann

Jack, predictably, secured the victory, and once the broadcast ended, I ascended the rise toward the CBS facility. Unexpectedly, a golf cart drew up beside me. At the controls was our chief golf analyst, the iconic Ken Venturi. Ken was palpably exhilarated. He stated, “Jimmy, you might be fortunate enough to eventually commentate on 50 Masters tournaments, but I can assure you, you will never witness a more magnificent day than this one at Augusta National.”

I’ve been privileged to witness numerous significant moments over the years: Tiger’s triumph in 1997, his “return to glory” in 2019, and Rory’s performance last year. Yet, 1986 remains unparalleled in many respects. We recall it as the day Jack Nicklaus penned a golfing fairy tale that, against all odds, materialized.

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