A Nine-Hole Match with the Devil Two-time major winner Hubert Green takes on cancer with the same resolve he shows on the golf course
5/11/2004 Dave Kindred Golf Digest Hubert Green said, "That pine tree, the tall one, all the way to the left." He looked at the tree through a range finder. "It's 144, 145 yards." It was one of those bright winter days in Florida when the sun is betrayed by a chilling wind off the Gulf of Mexico. The breeze came past that pine tree, came against Green's face. Because he's diabetic, his hands and feet quickly get cold. He was uncomfortable. He wore shimmering blue slacks, a blue sweater over a blue long-sleeved shirt, and the wide-brimmed leather hat that is his trademark. He'd driven his golf cart onto the back practice tee at Hombre Golf Club, his home course in Panama City Beach. In a red plastic crate, he'd brought along a couple hundred Callaway reds, each ball marked with an inked circle and inside the circle the initials "HG." He hit five, six balls with a 9-iron. Earlier, he'd said he felt weak. Instead of the club hitting the ball, it was like the ball hit the club. A 9-iron might go 110 yards, a measure of strength so dispiriting that he said, "Right now I couldn't play on the LPGA Tour." On the practice tee, he moved to a 5-iron. A little draw, pretty enough. Nine, 10 swings. The balls fell 10, 15 yards short of that left pine tree. He turned and said to the only other player on the range, "Whatcha hitting?" "Five-iron," said Allen [...]