Doug Sanders’ clothing was colourful and co-ordinated, a far cry from the hand-me-down clothes he wore growing up in Great Depression-era Georgia.
He didn’t even own a pair of shoes until he was eight years old. Unable to afford food, let alone golf lessons, Sanders learnt to play after begging to be allowed to caddie at a 9-hole course. He would practise his swing in the moments when the players weren’t watching.
Now, aged 36, he was just 30 inches away from winning the Open at St Andrews.
Sanders was the peacocking playboy of the golfing world during the 1960s.
In the off-season he would party with the Rat Pack and Evil Knievel and during practice rounds beautiful women would be strategically located to deliver him vodka and tonics.
But during the season, Sanders dropped the booze and amassed 20 tour wins, the most of any golfer without capturing a major.
At the 1970 Open Championship, that anomaly should have been corrected.
Sanders lined it up, drew his putter back. And stopped.
He had spotted a minuscule spot of dust, blown into his line. Removing the tiny obstacle, his stance changed slightly, but Sanders hadn’t noticed.
He missed the putt.
A play-off with Jack Nicklaus ensued, but the miss had shattered Sanders, without a win in three years.
As the Swinging Sixties gave way, so too was his playing career. He never got over the disappointment, and never achieved that missing major.