DATE: Thursday, June 12, 1997               TAG: 9706120649

SECTION: SPORTS                  PAGE: C1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY JIM DUCIBELLA, STAFF WRITER 

DATELINE: BETHESDA, MD.                     LENGTH:   81 lines

THE NAME NICKLAUS CAN REALLY BE A BEAR SON GARY HAS FELT THE HEAT OF DAD'S SPOTLIGHT; TODAY, IT WILL BE SHARED.

By the time Jack Nicklaus was 28, he already had won two U.S. Opens and had tossed in a couple of seconds, a third and a tie for fourth in a precocious start to the greatest career in golf.

Gary Nicklaus is 28, a semi-regular on the European, South African and Asian tours, and currently savoring the finest moment of his professional life - qualifying for this week's Open at Congressional Country Club. It is his maiden voyage in any major.

This is not a historic coupling, though close. During this half-century, only one other father-son team - Gary and Wayne Player in 1982 - has participated in the same Open.

In fact, that both Nicklauses are on the same grounds with the same purpose is somewhat contrived. Jack is here because of a special exemption extended him by the USGA. Otherwise, as he joked, ``I don't know what I'd be doing - probably caddying for Gary.''

The first time Gary tried to qualify, Papa Bear carried his bag. The kid parred the first two holes, then had any chance of making it pulled out from under him when, standing on the third tee, Jack asked whether Gary ``wanted to play my 4-iron or your 4-iron.''

By the time an eavesdropping rules official tallied the penalty strokes, Gary was 4 over par.

``Since then, I've been a little more careful,'' Jack said softly, ruefully.

Maybe because he is the son of Jack Nicklaus, Gary has always played under the burden of unrealistic hopes and expectations.

When he was 16 and still very uncertain about his affection for golf, Sports Illustrated magazine asked to do a story about Gary, promising Jack and his wife, Barbara, that there was no way the story would make the cover. It hit the news stands with Gary's adolescent mug plastered out front with the headline, ``The Next Nicklaus.''

``It drove him from the game for about two years,'' Jack recalled. ``We were all upset because Gary felt like he hadn't done anything to deserve being on the cover of a major magazine. And we didn't feel the pressure was necessary.

``I appreciate how hard it was for him. I remember Gary playing in a big tournament one time and telling his mother, `I wonder how many people will come out today to watch dad watch me?' ''

Although he later tried to emphasize that the advantages of being a Nicklaus far outweigh the disadvantages, that's a conclusion Gary didn't reach until just a few years ago.

``It's a tough name to carry, and I've had problems with it,'' Gary admitted.

``Everywhere you go, you're the spotlight. When I played in high school or juniors, I'd shoot 85 and I'd just want to go home. But the press would want to know how you could shoot 85. If I shot 65, they'd want to know how I did that. . . . But as the years have gone by, I've matured. I'm pretty happy with my game and what I'm trying to do with my career.''

Exactly what that means is a secret, ``something that's between me, myself and I,'' he said.

The old man, as Jack called himself several times, has done his best to give his son the best chance possible to succeed. They arrived here late last week and played a couple of practice rounds, ``just to show him that the course wasn't some big bear (no pun intended), just another good course set up to be difficult,'' Jack said. ``Then we've played a couple practice rounds in front of people. I think he's ready.''

If you were wondering about their games, Jack says Gary hits it longer than he does, but not as long as the game's longest hitters. Gary says he hasn't seen dad hit the ball this good in a year ``and he's better with his putting, which has been a problem for him - especially when we're partners.''

The elder Nicklaus won't see Gary play today. Jack is among the dew-sweepers at 7:40 a.m. Gary doesn't play until almost noon.

``It's his mother who's going to put in the 36 holes,'' Jack joked. ``I have enough trouble walking this place once, let alone twice.''

And, what if the miraculous happened, and Jack had a 4-footer on the last hole to win the tournament?

Miss it on purpose, of course, Jack said.

Gary snickered.

``Fat chance,'' he said. ``You've never missed one before to let me win.'' ILLUSTRATION: ASSOCIATED PRESS

Gary Nicklaus, left, and father Jack check out the site of the U.S.

Open.

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