Frank Nobilo’s My Shot Provides Insightful Nuggets

I like Frank Nobilo’s measured counterpoints to the more excitable Brandel Chamblee’s and David Duval’s golf takes. It makes for good give-and-take chemistry.

Golfdigest.com’s Guy Yocom posts an excellent My Shot interview with Nobilo on his infamous on-camera battle with Chamblee, who he enjoys interviewing, how Greg Norman displayed the greatest driving exhibition ever and how a race car driver gave Frank his revenge-filled just desserts taking him around a track. It’s a long but worthwhile piece for you to peruse.

AT ONE POINT, Brandel pressed home his argument, something along the lines of, “I’ll bet you everything on this set and everything I own.” We were hardly dinner companions, but I think it’s then that we crossed that line. But apparently it was good TV, and I’m asked about that episode more than any other show we’ve done, so what do I know? We both joined Golf Channel in 2004, the first year of the “Live From” series, and one thing we would both agree on is that it’s a show we’re proud of. The blend of personalities works. If Brandel had a clone of himself sitting next to him, heaven forbid. … Conversely, with a pair of more reserved Frank Nobilos, we would more than likely have to wake people up.

WHEN YOU MOVE from being a player to a TV announcer, a strange thing takes place: The players in general don’t treat you the same anymore. Essentially you become “gamekeeper-turned-poacher.” I get it; I did it, too. Fewer things are said in confidence. The vibe totally changes. The most outstanding exception is Vijay Singh. I’ve known him for 30-plus years, and I’ve read what everybody else has read about him. Once you get past that facade, there is a consistency with him that I’ve always admired. The change in my job hasn’t meant one little thing to him. You are what you are to Vijay, until proven otherwise. In today’s world, that’s rare.

The course, Huntingdale Golf Club, had a very short range. At the end of the range was a fence, and beyond that was the course’s 13th hole. Once the last group went through, players were permitted to land practice drives into the distant fairway. Bizarre. Anyway, the fence had a small gate about four feet wide. As I left the range one morning, I spotted Greg hitting drivers in the direction of the gate. Someone had left it open, and a few spectators noticed that Greg was using it as a target, the two ends of the gate behaving sort of like goal posts. Greg was launching one full-blooded driver after another through the four-foot window above that gate. The crowd got larger. Steve Williams, who caddied for Greg at the time, wasn’t moving. Out in that distant 13th fairway, he was catching the balls on one bounce like he was fielding short wedges. Greg must have hit 20 consecutive drives within that four-foot window. The crowd was mesmerized. So was I. He won the tournament, but that display on the range was something else. I haven’t seen anything like it since.

REALLY GOOD GOLFERS know how hard the game is, but at the same time, they forget. When I played in Europe years ago, I was briefly into fast cars. I owned a Ferrari and went over 100 miles per hour on a deserted, straight road. Then I got to know a top Formula One driver named Peter Gethin, and occasionally we played golf together. One day he took me out to the Goodwood racing track and put me in the passenger seat of an F40 to go for “a little spin.” The acceleration put me back in my seat, and he took the first curve at 120 miles per hour, steering with one hand, making small talk and looking at me as he drove. I didn’t hear a word of what he said because I honestly thought I might die at any moment. On the straightaway, we flew past a Testarossa, and my thoughts escalated from a simple accident to a deliberate murder-suicide. I didn’t know Peter that well. When I glanced at the speedometer, it read 180 miles per hour. After he pulled into the pit, I got out and very nearly vomited. He walked around the car, put his arm on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Now you know how I feel when you take me to those bloody back tees.”