The mental_floss Guide to the U.S. Open

Getty Images
Getty Images

Golf's U.S. Open plays out this week, just in time for the customary final round on Father's Day. In honor of the Open's teeing off at Torrey Pines Golf Course in San Diego, we dug through the championship's history to find some crucial details (and trivial moments, too).

How old is the tournament?
The Newport Country Club of Rhode Island hosted the first U.S. Open in 1895 with far less fanfare than the modern tournament receives. Instead of a mad scramble to make the elite field, the competition only had 11 entrants, each of whom played a nine-hole course four times in a single day. The U.S. Open wasn't even the main draw on the course that week; spectators and golfers were much more preoccupied with the first playing of U.S. Amateur Championship at the club, which made the Open something of an afterthought. At the end of play, Englishman Horace Rawlins claimed the title and pocketed $150 and a gold medal for his stellar performance. (He also made a compelling case for home-course advantage in golf; by day the young champ was the assistant pro at"¦you guessed it, the Newport Country Club.) The Open's been played ever since with two exceptions: a two-year break for World War I and a four-year gap during World War II.

So Americans dominated right off the bat, right?
Hardly. Although the tournament was called the U.S. Open, winning was strictly a British affair in its early days. From 1895 to 1910, British golfers won every year, including four wins by Scottish immigrant Willie Anderson. Americans didn't claim their own Open until 1911 when Philadelphia's John J. McDermott bested the field by three strokes. McDermott, who was only 19 years old at the time of his victory, still holds the record for youngest Open champ. Just as impressively, he successfully defended his title the following year at the Country Club of Buffalo.

Why is it called the U.S. Open?
Technically, the tournament is open to all comers rather than restricted to a certain group of golfers. Both amateurs and professionals can compete in the event, so in theory, any golfer in the world is eligible for the field. Thus, it's an "open" tournament. Of course, you can't just show up with your bag and shoes on Thursday morning and expect to tee off with Tiger. Golfers have to either qualify for the championship or gain an invitation through a qualifying exemption, which are given to past champions, recent champions of other major championships, top-ranked professionals, and other elite groups.

Amateurs with handicaps of 1.4 or less can play in the U.S. Open if they make it through the qualifying process, which includes a local qualifying round and a sectional qualifying round. Golfers who manage to qualify in this way had better behave themselves, though. The USGA's website ominously warns that golfers are "subject to rejection at any time (including during the Championship) by the USGA. The reason for rejection may include unbecoming conduct." If John Daly's been sliding by, though, it's probably tough to get the boot.

What's the roughest time anyone's had at the Open?
It would be hard to beat J.D. Tucker in the futility department. He took the course for the 1898 Open at the Myopia Hunt Club in S. Hamilton, MA, and proceeded to shoot a 157 in his opening round. During his second round the same day, he carved 57 strokes off of his score, but that only got him to a not-so-competitive 100. He then withdrew from the tournament.

For a single hole, though, Ray Ainsley gave Tucker a run for his money. At the 1938 Open at Cherry Hills in Englewood, Colorado, Ainsley hit into a creek on the 16th hole of his second round. Rather than take a penalty, Ainsley thought he'd try to hit the ball out of the water. When his first attempt was unsuccessful, he tried again. And again. And again. When the ball finally found its way onto dry land and into the cup, Ainsley had racked up a 19-stroke hole, a record that still stands. That should make you feel better the next time you have to suck it up and take a drop.

Who was the unlikeliest champion?
That honor probably belongs to Francis Ouimet, the former caddy who took the 1913 U.S. Open at the course he used to patrol, the Country Club of Brookline, MA. Although he was an amateur facing stiff competition from celebrated British pros like Harry Vardon and Ted Ray, Ouimet managed to squeak out a victory following an 18-hole playoff. Fittingly, Ouimet's caddy made him look old; 10-year-old friend Eddie Lowery skipped school to man the bag for Ouimet throughout the tournament. The national press hung on young Ouimet's gutsy performance against his British rivals, and the stunning win is credited with helping to popularize golf in the U.S. Sounds like a Disney movie, doesn't it? It is; the story was adapted in 2005 as The Greatest Game Ever Played starring Shia LeBeouf as Ouimet.

Why doesn't Bobby Jones have five U.S. Open titles?
Amateur golfer Bobby Jones was undoubtedly one of the best golfers of all time, and he had the hardware to back it up: four U.S. Open wins, another three wins in the British Open, and six more wins between the U.S. Amateur and the British Amateur. He might have had a fifth U.S. Open title if he hadn't been so honest, though. At the 1925 U.S. Open, he was getting set to hit an iron shot out of the rough when he felt his club move the ball ever so slightly. No one else seemed to have seen this movement, but Jones called a penalty on himself. After officials were unable to confirm that the ball had actually moved, they allowed Jones to make his own ruling on whether or not he should be penalized. Jones said he was certain the ball had moved and penalized himself. The decision cost him the outright title, and he then lost a playoff to Willie Macfarlane. Spectators praised Jones for being so conscientious, but he would have none of it. He flatly replied, "You might as well praise me for not robbing banks."

Who was the unhealthiest champ?
Anyone who watched Angel Cabrera win last year's U.S. Open while chain-smoking between shots might be surprised to learn the tobacco-loving Argentine doesn't hold this distinction. Olin Dutra's win at the 1934 U.S. Open was as much a medical marvel as it was an athletic achievement after Dutra got sick on his way to the tournament. He wasn't just a little ill; he was suffering from a case of amoebic dysentery that caused him to lose 15 pounds before the tournament began. For the first two rounds, Dutra played well enough to lurk just eight strokes back on the leaderboard. The third round was disastrous, though. The dysentery acted up, and Dutra dropped to 18th place. In the final round, though, he roared back despite feeling ill and being forced to subsist on sugar cubes. By shooting a final-round 72, Dutra passed Bobby Cruickshank and Gene Sarazen to win his only U.S. Open crown by just one stroke.

Honorable mention in this category has to go to Ken Venturi, who won the 1964 U.S Open at the Congressional Country Club in Bethestda, Maryland. The sweltering sun got to Venturi in his final round, and he nearly collapsed from heat exhaustion. He eventually completed his victory under the watchful eye of a doctor.

Ethan Trex grew up idolizing Vince Coleman, and he kind of still does. Ethan co-writes Straight Cash, Homey, the Internet's undisputed top source for pictures of people in Ryan Leaf jerseys.
* * * * *
Shhh...super secret special for blog readers.

7 Tips for Winning an Arm Wrestling Match

iStock
iStock

Geoff Hale was playing Division II college baseball in Kansas City, Missouri, when he sat down and started flipping through the channels on his TV. There—probably on TBS—was Over the Top, the 1987 arm wrestling melodrama starring Sylvester Stallone as Lincoln Hawke, a truck driver who aspires to win his estranged son’s affections. And to do that, he has to win a national arm wrestling tournament. Obviously.

Neither the worst nor the best of Stallone’s efforts, Over the Top made Hale recall his high school years and how the fringe sport had satisfied his athletic interests, which weren't being met by baseball. “I had never lost a match,” Hale tells Mental Floss of his arm wrestling prowess. “The movie reminded me that I was good at it.”

That was 13 years ago. Now a professional competitor known as the Haleraiser, the full-time petroleum geologist has won several major titles. While you may not have the constitution for the surprisingly traumatic sport (more on that later), you might still want to handle yourself in the event of a spontaneous match breaking out. We asked Hale for some tips on what to do when you’re confronted with the opportunity to achieve a modest amount of glory while arm-grappling on a beer-stained table. This is what he told us.

1. KNOW THAT SIZE DOESN'T MATTER.

A child uses books to help in arm-wrestling an adult
iStock

Well, it does. But really only if your opponent knows what they’re doing. Otherwise, having a bowling pin for a forearm isn’t anything to be wary about. If anything, your densely-built foe may have a false sense of confidence. “Everyone has arm-wrestled since they were a kid and thinks they know what it is,” Hale says. “It looks easy, but there’s actually a very complex set of movements. It’s good to check your ego at the door.”

2. PRETEND YOU’RE PART OF THE TABLE.

A man offers to arm wrestle from behind a table
iStock

When you square up with your opposition to lock hands—thumb digging into the fleshy part, fingers wrapped around the back—don’t lean over the table with your butt in the air. And don’t make the common mistake of sitting down for a match, either. “It limits you from a technique standpoint,” Hale says, and could even open you up to injury.

Instead, you want to plant the foot that matches your dominant hand under the table with your hip touching the edge. With your free hand, grip the edge or push down on the top for stability. “Pretend like you’re part of the table,” Hale says. That way, you’ll be able to recruit your shoulders, triceps, and biceps into the competition.

3. REMEMBER TO BREATHE.

Two men engage in an arm wrestling match
iStock

If you’re turning the color of a lobster, you’re probably holding in your breath. “Don’t,” Hale says. Remember to continue taking in air through your nose. There’s no benefit to treating the match like a diving expedition. The lack of oxygen will just tire your muscles out faster.

4. BEAT THE HAND, NOT THE ARM.

Two hands appear in close-up during an arm wrestling contest
iStock

There are three basic techniques in arm wrestling, according to Hale: the shoulder press, the hook, and the top roll. The shoulder press recruits the shoulder right behind the arm, pushing the opposing appendage down as if you were performing a triceps pressdown. The hook is more complex, varying pressure from all sides and incorporating pulling motions to bend the wrist backward. For the best chance of winning, opt for the top roll, which involves sliding your hand up your opponent’s so your grip is attacking the top portion nearest the fingers. That way, he or she is recruiting fewer major muscle groups to resist. “When you beat the hand, the arm follows,” Hale says. Because this is more strategy than strength, you might wind up toppling some formidable-looking opponents.

5. IN A STALEMATE, WAIT FOR AN OPENING.

A man and woman engage in an arm wrestling contest
iStock

While lots of arm wrestling matches end quickly, others become a battle of attrition. When you find yourself locked up in the middle of the table, wait for your opponent to relax. They almost always will. “In a neutral position, it’s good to stay static, keeping your body and arm locked up,” Hale says. “You’re just waiting for your opponent to make a mistake.” The moment you feel their arm lose tension, attack.

6. TRY SCREAMING.

A woman screams while winning an arm wrestling contest
iStock

Arm wrestlers play all kinds of psychological games, and while some might be immune to trash talk, it’s likely your rival will be influenced by some selective insults. “You can make someone lose their focus easily,” Hale says. “In a stalemate, you can give them a hard time, tell them they’re not strong. It’s intimidating to be out of breath and to see someone just talking.”

7. WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, GO SECOND.

A man struggles while losing an arm wrestling contest
iStock

Arm wrestling exacts a heavy toll on winners and losers alike: The prolonged muscle contractions can easily fatigue people not used to the exertion. If you fear a loss from a bigger, stronger opponent, conspire to have them wrestle someone else first, then take advantage of their fatigue.

If all goes well, you might want to consider pursuing the sport on more competitive levels—but you probably shouldn’t. “It takes a toll on the body,” Hale says. “I’ve got tendonitis and don’t compete as much as I used to. On the amateur level, it’s common to see arm breaks, usually the humerus [upper arm] bone. The body was not really made for arm wrestling.”

Does the University of Florida Still Make Money Off Gatorade?

George Frey, Getty Images
George Frey, Getty Images

In September 1965, 10 freshmen players on the University of Florida's Gators football team agreed to let the school's kidney disease specialist, Robert Cade, assess their hydration levels during practices. He took urine samples. He interviewed athletes. He asked to take their rectal temperature during games.

The players agreed to all but the last request. In analyzing his results, Cade discovered that the wilting heat, coupled with a lack of hydration, resulted in subjects who were very low on electrolytes like sodium and potassium, sometimes losing six to nine pounds of water per practice session—with some footballers having anecdotes of 15 to 20 pounds lost during games. Cade felt that players suffered from low blood volume and low blood sugar. Many, in fact, were being hospitalized after overexerting themselves without drinking enough water, traditionally seen as a way of building toughness in players. Those who remained on field were surely not playing up to their potential.

Cade mixed water, sugar, salt, and lemon juice, then ordered them to drink the solution to keep their bodies in balance. By 1967, the Gators were all consuming "Gatorade," and incidences of heat stroke fell sharply. The Gators secured a 9-2 record in 1966; the team became renowned for their renewed energy during the second half, and ignited a transformation in sports science. Decades later and backed by a massive promotional machine, Gatorade has permeated both professional sports and amateur athletics alike, replenishing electrolytes lost during physical activity. Roughly 632 million cases were sold in 2013 alone.

With the sports drink having been born on the Gators's playing field and invented by a University of Florida employee, it's not hard to see why both Cade's estate (he died in 2007) and the school get a percentage of royalties from sales, an agreement that's still in place today. But if they had their way, the university would be getting all of it.

A University of Florida coach is soaked in Gatorade by his players after a win
Donald Miralle, Getty Images

After Cade and his co-researchers finalized Gatorade’s formula, Cade approached the school's head of sponsored research to see if they wanted to come to an arrangement over the rights to the drink (Cade wanted $10,000) and determine if they wanted to try and sell it to a national distributor. According to Cade, University of Florida (UF) officials weren't interested, so he struck a deal with beverage maker Stokely Van-Camp in 1967.

Stokely's offer was for Cade and his cohorts—now known as the Gatorade Trust—to receive a $25,000 cash payment, a $5000 bonus, and a five-cent royalty on each gallon of Gatorade sold. When UF realized that they had been shortsighted in assessing the brand's mass market appeal—and that they were missing out on profits—they allegedly told Cade that the drink belonged to them.

"Go to hell," Cade responded, a statement that kicked off several years of litigation.

While Cade was a university employee, funds for his work actually came from the government—specifically, the Department of Health. He also managed to avoid signing an agreement solidifying his inventions as school property. For these reasons, and because both sides anticipated an endless and costly legal jiu-jitsu match in their futures, the two accepted a federal ruling in 1972. The Gatorade Trust would continue to receive their royalties, and the school would take 20 percent of the disbursement.

Initially, that meant one cent for every gallon of Gatorade sold, a fraction of the five cents owed to the Trust. In September 1973, following the first full year of the agreement, UF made $115,296 in royalties and earmarked the funds for kidney research and marine science.

Gatorade cups are shown stacked in a locker room
J. Meric, Getty Images

That's a considerable sum, but it's nothing compared to what poured out in the decades to come. When Stokely Van-Camp was purchased by Quaker Oats in 1983, they kicked off a heavy promotional campaign that highlighted Gatorade in commercials and sponsored teams. Coaches began getting doused with jugs full of Gatorade following big victories. When PepsiCo bought Quaker for $13.4 billion in 2000, they leveraged their marketing muscle to further engender the brand.

Consequently, both the Gatorade Trust and UF have profited immensely. As of 2015, the Trust had earned well over $1 billion in royalties, with 20 percent, or about $281 million, going to UF. The five-cent per gallon formula has been replaced by a percentage: between 1.9 percent and 3.6 percent depending on how much Gatorade is sold annually, according to ESPN's Darren Rovell, with the University taking a fifth of that. The funds have been invested in the school's Genetics Institute, the Whitney Marine Laboratory in St. Augustine, and to help disperse seed money for grants.

The school naturally has an affinity for the stuff, but that can occasionally come into conflict with other marketing deals. In 2016, the University of Florida’s women's basketball team played in the NCAA Tournament, which was sponsored by Powerade, a competing sports drink made by Coca-Cola. As a compromise, the players dumped their Gatorade into Powerade bottles and cups. The beverage born on campus—one that's netted them nearly $300 million to date—always comes first.

Have you got a Big Question you'd like us to answer? If so, let us know by emailing us at bigquestions@mentalfloss.com.

SECTIONS

arrow
LIVE SMARTER