THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 16, 1995 TAG: 9507160168
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY STEVE CARLSON, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: WILLIAMSBURG LENGTH: Long : 227 lines
Jet around the world. Get pampered like royalty at each PGA Tour stop. Play the best golf courses anywhere. Occasionally pocket more for a week's work than most people make in a year.
Must be nice, huh? It's alluring on the surface, but most of us can't fathom what a pro golfer's lifestyle is like any more than we can make an iron shot suck back to the hole.
Three players at this past weekend's Anheuser-Busch Golf Classic provide s a glimpse inside life on the tour.
One is a rising star. One is an established pro contemplating a career change. One is among the myriad of faceless names on the circuit - although his name alone helped him strike it rich.
RISING STAR GALLAGHER
Jim Gallagher Jr. missed the cut at the Colonial on Memorial Day weekend. Gallagher, who represents the golf course at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, called racetrack president Tony George two days before the Indianapolis 500 asking for tickets.
No problem, George said. Would you like to stay in the hotel at the Speedway? And would you like to ride in the parade around the track before the race?
``I said, `Tony, I couldn't get a ticket to the race as a kid and now I get to ride in the parade?' '' Gallagher says. ``I told my wife, `You don't know how cool this is.' ''
Gallagher, 34, is hot. He has won twice on the tour this year and is sixth on the season money list.
Because of golf, Gallagher has met corporate leaders, entertainers, professional athletes and heads of state. He has dined at the White House twice, as a Ryder Cup and Presidents Cup participant.
``I don't even know if I dreamed of stuff like that when I dreamed about being a golf pro,'' Gallagher says.
After a few lean years early in his career, Gallagher has been in the top 50 on the money list each of the past six years except one, when he was 51st last year. Among his five tour wins is the 1993 Anheuser-Busch.
``If you told me when I first started I'd win $4 1/2 million and five tournaments, I'd have laughed,'' Gallagher says. ``I didn't know how good I really was.''
Gallagher grew up in a house next to the third tee box at Meshingomesia Country Club in Marion, Ind. His father has worked at the course 35 years, the last 31 as head pro.
``My dad put in 12- to 14-hour days, six or seven days a week,'' Gallagher says. ``When I grew up, I didn't want to do that job.''
Gallagher says while he was growing up his dad probably never made more than $35,000 a year - roughly a decent week's work for the son in a good year.
``Mother and I came to Marion with very little in our pockets,'' says Jim Sr., who has another son playing the Nike Tour and a daughter on the LPGA Tour. ``To think he's made $4 million is almost unbelievable. I'm 57 and I'm not sure I've come anywhere near close to making half as much as that in all my years of working.''
Just having a PGA tour card can be worth $50,000 a year in endorsement and pro-am chances for a no-name player. For a rising star, golf is a cash cow itching to be milked.
``There's a lot of extra outings, that's the bad thing,'' Gallagher says. ``It's always, `Here's $10,000, come to this. Here's $15,000.' That's a lot of cash.
``You've got to cash in when you can, but you've got to be sure you don't tire yourself out so you can't perform out here.''
Gallagher has found you also have to be careful how it impacts the family. Last year his daughter, then 2 1/2, told him on the phone, ``Daddy, you just go, go, go.'' Earlier this year, she was on the phone crying, ``Daddy, won't you come home and get me?'' Gallagher almost left midway through the tournament to head home.
Gallagher's wife and two children - ages 3 1/2 and 19 months - are with him on tour about 75 percent of the time. They stay in comfortable hotels, or may spend as much as $4,000 to rent a house for the week at one of the majors.
The family didn't make it this past week because his wife, Cissye, a former LPGA player, was defending her title as the Mississippi state amateur women's champion.
But Gallagher knows the day is coming when the kids will be in school, and traveling with dad on tour will be more difficult.
Country singer Steve Azar is a good friend of Gallagher's. Azar has a song coming out later this year with a line Gallagher particularly likes: ``Someday we're not going to have to worry about time and money.''
Gallagher figures his kids are set for life financially. Now he just hopes he can be there for them while they are growing up.
``That's why I'm trying to play as much as I can now and win as many tournaments as I can,'' he says, ``so eventually I can sit back and be with my kids and not have to worry about time and money.'' Established pro Wiebe
Last year was Mark Wiebe's best on the PGA Tour - even though he played only nine tournaments and won a career-low $16,032.
Still, it was a good year because he played at all.
Wiebe broke his arm and dislocated his shoulder in a skiing accident in March 1994. He had surgery and underwent seven months of rehabilitation.
And his priorities underwent a transformation.
``Now that I've seen what I miss when I'm home, I don't want to miss it,'' Wiebe says.
It was the first time in his 12 years on the tour he was home more than away.
``I loved being home,'' Wiebe says. ``I didn't miss golf at all. It was kind of scary.''
Wiebe has reached a career crossroads: Should he keep chasing the tour's pot of gold, or stay home and be a gold-medal dad to his three children?
Last year Wiebe coached baseball, soccer and basketball. He car-pooled kids. He helped at school functions. He would take his oldest children to the school-bus stop, and 45 minutes later he'd still be out there talking to the mothers.
``Mark would come home and I'd say, `What did you girls talk about this morning?' '' wife Cathy says.
For the first time, Wiebe's schedule revolved around his children's lives, not the other way around. It was intoxicating.
``I think it was nice for Mark,'' Cathy says. ``He liked it a little too much.''
Now he's back on tour, but not liking it much at all. Wiebe has a special medical extension, which allows him to play 20 tournaments. If he doesn't make the top 125 on the money list, he would have to return to the tour's qualifying school.
Wiebe wants to play a limited schedule, but play well enough to remain exempt. It hasn't happened thus far. Wiebe has won $38,397 in 14 tournaments, 172nd on the money list.
His swing has changed a bit because of the injury. His priorities have swung a lot.
When he is at a tournament and playing poorly, the thought gnaws at him: A wasted week; I could have been home.
``I will not let golf get in the way of my family,'' Wiebe says. ``I can play golf the rest of my life. My kids will only be this age once. To me, it would be absolutely tragic to miss that, and I won't.''
So at 37, does Wiebe eschew the potential riches on tour for a more enriching family life? If he doesn't make the top 125, does he head for Q-school? Or does he explore options in golf-related businesses at home in Denver?
``I honestly feel I still have great golf inside of me, but it hasn't come out yet,'' Wiebe says.
Wiebe has earned almost $2.2 million on tour and has won twice, including the Anheuser-Busch in 1985. But his last victory came in 1986. Throw in endorsement deals, pro-ams and all the other perks a tour pro enjoys, and he's had a lucrative career, if not a spectacular one.
As Wiebe's career has waned, Cathy notices there are subtle differences in the treatment they receive on tour.
``When you've been there, and then suddenly you're not at the same place you were in the golf world, you're not treated the same way,'' Cathy says. ``That's kind of hard to accept. It probably beats on your confidence a little bit.''
Cathy would miss a lot of things about the tour, but says if Mark can find a job that keeps him home and happy, that would be great.
When the kids were younger, Wiebe could play 30-plus events a year with family in tow. The family will make it to only about five tournaments this year, at a cost of $3,000 to $4,000 a week.
Wiebe still loves golf, but not the tour. ``I'm at the point where I have to really decide if I want to do this,'' he says. Faceless name Taylor
During his rookie season on the tour in 1980, Harry Taylor was on the driving range at the Western Open when a stranger approached.
Are you Harry Taylor?
Yep.
I just started a company named Taylor Made.
That's a good name.
Why don't we have lunch together and get to know each other?
With that, Harry Taylor became the Taylor of Taylor Made golf equipment.
The stranger was Gary Adams, who had formed a company in which a friend named Jimmy Taylor was going to serve as president. Jimmy Taylor got cold feet at the last minute because of financial concerns.
Adams already had spent money on the trademark. He just needed a warm-bodied Taylor.
``Harry's name pulled me to Harry,'' Adams says. ``I thought so much of Harry upon meeting him, I figured he could fit into my plans somewhere.''
Adams had a mission: convince the golf world a metal wood was better than a wooden wood. Where better to start convincing people than the PGA Tour?
Ultimately, Taylor Made popularized the metal wood. And ultimately Harry Taylor would benefit because of his last name.
He started out as a Taylor Made salesman and tour rep, then became a minor shareholder and vice president. Taylor Made sponsored him, picking up all his tour expenses, and eventually paid him a salary in excess of $100,000.
At one point, Adams says, Taylor came to him lamenting that everyone thought he was a co-owner.
``He said, `It's a terrible lie that I have to walk around with and I can't stand the lie, so can I have some stock in the company?' '' Adams says. ``I said, `Sure, Harry.' ''
In 1989, Adams sold Taylor Made and started Founders Club, another golf equipment company. A year later, Taylor sold his stock - which was less than 5 percent of the company, Adams says - and became a minority shareholder and vice president at Founders Club.
``I was just along for the ride on both of them,'' says Taylor, who now does golf club design, marketing and promotional work for Mizuno.
Taylor, 40, has made more money selling golf clubs than swinging them. He's been to the tour's qualifying school 14 times and has earned a card seven times.
``It's been my fun ego trip to say `I'm on the tour,' '' Taylor says. ``But I think I'm at about a half-million dollars in career winnings on tour. Doggone, I've beat that by a good bit in my other career.''
There are scads of players like Taylor who barely make enough in tour winnings to scrape by. Taylor isn't scraping by.
``I could see that I probably couldn't make a million dollars playing the tour,'' Taylor says. ``I was going to have to do something, and I wanted to do something in golf.''
Only once have Taylor's season earnings on the tour surpassed $55,000, which is about what it takes to break even, and nowhere near what's needed to keep his card.
``I didn't want to wake up one day at 40 years old and say, `I've always played the tour and struggled, now what am I going to do to make a living?' '' Taylor says. ``It's easy to keep hanging on out here thinking you may strike it rich at some point. But it may never happen.
``I didn't want to put my family through that. I was pretty much a realist about it. I knew I could get into this other deal. . . . I just happened to have the right name and be in the right place at the right time.'' ILLUSTRATION: [Color Photos]
PAUL AIKEN/Staff photos
The Established pro
Mark Wiebe
The Faceless name
Harry Taylor
The Rising Star
Jim Gallagher Jr.
LEADERS
[For a copy of the leaders, see microfilm for this date.]
by CNB