{"id":23460,"date":"2021-12-04T12:17:03","date_gmt":"2021-12-04T18:17:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/myboysay.com\/blog\/?p=23460"},"modified":"2021-12-04T12:17:03","modified_gmt":"2021-12-04T18:17:03","slug":"jim-dent-georgia-golf-hall-of-fame-member-he-began-his-golf-career-as-a-caddie-participating-in-his-first-masters-when-he-was-just-15","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/myboysay.com\/blog\/?p=23460","title":{"rendered":"Jim Dent, Georgia Golf Hall of Fame Member, He began his golf career as a caddie, participating in his first Masters when he was just 15."},"content":{"rendered":"
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Dent’s life great idea for a film<\/h1>\n

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Jim Dent,<\/h2>\n

Georgia Golf Hall of Fame Member<\/h1>\n

Inducted 1994<\/h4>\n

Jim Dent was born in Augusta, Ga., on May 9, 1939.\u00a0 He began his golf career as a caddie, participating in his first Masters when he was just 15.\u00a0 In 1970, he played in the Tucson Open, where his outstanding play earned him his PGA TOUR card.\u00a0 His best PGA TOUR finish was a tie for second in the Walt Disney World Open.\u00a0 He joined the PGA Champions Tour in 1989 and won a total of 12 tournaments.\u00a0 His 14 top-10 finishes during the 1992 season set a new Champions Tour record for most money won in a single season without a victory.\u00a0 Dent also set a Champions Tour record of finishing in the exempt top 31 money-winners for 12 consecutive years. Dent won three consecutive Florida PGA Championships and was a member of the 1990 and \u201891 United States DuPont Cup teams.\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Jim Dent! <\/span> Led Tour in driving distance from 1989-1994,<\/span> 12 career PGA TOUR Champions wins, <\/span>Caddied at Augusta National<\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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If you follow football to any extent at all, you’ve probably read some of Harry James “Jim” Dent’s work.<\/strong><\/p>\n

For years, he was a sportswriter; he covered the Dallas Cowboys for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram and later the Dallas Times Herald in the ’80s and early ’90s. Then he turned his attention to writing books.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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He wrote a book about Johnny Manziel in which he revealed that Stephen Jones, son of Cowboys owner Jerry, nearly had to physically restrain his father to keep him from drafting Johnny Football back in 2014.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He wrote “The Junction Boys,” a New York Times bestselling book about Bear Bryant’s early days coaching at Texas A&M, “The Kids Got It Right: How the Texas All-Stars Kicked Down Racial Walls” about the Texas-Pennsylvania high school football rivalry of the 1960s, “King of the Cowboys: The Life and Times of Jerry Jones” and “Twelve Mighty Orphans: The Inspiring True Story of the Mighty Mites Who Ruled Texas Football.”<\/strong><\/p>\n

The film based on his Mighty Mites book is opening in theaters across the country today. But Jim Dent wasn’t available for the premiere.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Instead, he’s in prison. Not because he’s a criminal, but because he is, as they say in Texas, “bad to drink.”<\/strong><\/p>\n

I don’t really know Jim Dent — I believe I met him back in the days when I used to spend time in Dallas, but I feel like I do. I know a lot of people who do know him and call him a friend. I know his reputation as a smart, funny man who can be really good company. And I know his books are, without exception, better than the movies that get made from them.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The word is, Dent might be paroled from prison as early as July. His original parole date was set for Jan. 15, 2020, but that was denied. He almost died after contracting covid-19 in prison last summer. He has been moved to a prison pre-release facility, which is an anticipatory step in the process. But the movie opens today.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent has been arrested for DWI 10 times since 1983. This is his third stint in prison.<\/strong><\/p>\n

One of the problems Dent seems to have is a reluctance to face consequences. In 1999, he was arrested in Brazos County, Texas for felony drunken driving, and, in 2002, he was sentenced to 10 years probation for the offense, with the stipulation that he spend 40 days of the probation sentence in jail.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The day after his release, he was pulled over in Oklahoma City for suspected drunken driving. He skipped out on his court appearance. He was arrested in Arkansas a few months later, when Texas authorities issued a warrant for his arrest for violating his parole. He was held in an Arkansas jail under $1 million bond, but when a judge reduced that bond to $5,000, he made it and skipped out again.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He was arrested again in Las Vegas. He accepted an eight-year sentence in a plea bargain.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He was out by 2013 — and he was arrested a few more times. He failed to appear in court, fleeing to Mexico. They caught him when he tried to re-enter the country at the Tijuana\/San Diego border. He allegedly tried to bribe a border guard, according to the authorities.<\/strong><\/p>\n

So you can understand the 10-year-sentence. That’s an option for third offense DWI under Texas law. Dent actually got a good deal — his plea arrangement with prosecutors allowed him to serve a 10-year sentence for bail jumping concurrently with his 10-year DWI sentence.<\/strong><\/p>\n

But I wonder about a system that locks up people who have health problems. Jim Dent is 68, and I suppose it is possible that he has actually beaten back his demons now and that he might never take another drink in his life but I don’t think prison did anything to rehabilitate him. I think he’s lucky that he never hurt anyone else.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I don’t know what good it did anyone to put Jim Dent in prison. You can say it kept him off the streets and out from behind the wheel, that we all were a little safer because they warehoused him for a while, but I can imagine other ways we could have kept Dent from driving. I imagine other ways we might have protected the public from a sportswriter who was bad to drink.<\/strong><\/p>\n

“12 Mighty Orphans” is not a great movie, it’s not as good as its source material, but it’s not an offense against art either. It’s not the movie’s fault — a book is a broader canvas that allows for more nuance. You have longer with the characters, who needn’t be one thing or the other. You can have more nuance in a book.<\/strong><\/p>\n

But what might make a better movie is the story of Jim Dent’s life, all the improbable turns and wild nights it encompasses. Whether it’s the story of an underdog’s redemption or a tragedy has yet to be written.<\/strong><\/p>\n

And Jim Dent is the only one to write it.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Dent Overcame the Odds En Route to Professional Golf February 26, 2019<\/span><\/strong><\/h1>\n<\/div>\n
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<\/a> <\/a><\/strong><\/div>\n
Jim Dent carved his way from the caddie yards of Augusta, Ga., to become a successful professional golfer.
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In the 1950s, Jim Dent was a rangy black kid knocking golf balls around The Hill, a course in a poor Augusta, Ga., neighborhood with crude holes carved out by hand. One kid had a discarded 5-iron, another had a putter, another a wedge. Dent and his friends would hit a battered ball, then yell, \u201cGimme the 5-iron,\u201d and hit it again.<\/strong><\/p>\n

For them, golf was just a pastime with seemingly no future. Golf had long struggled with issues of diversity and with The PGA of America\u2019s Caucasian-only clause still in effect, the most that black golfers could hope for was an opportunity to caddie.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent knew all about caddieing. He had carried bags at Augusta National Golf Club, home of the Masters. He had raked bunkers and tended flagsticks at lush Augusta Country Club, which was just over the fence from The Hill. That fence represented the seemingly insurmountable barrier Dent faced, a wall around the professional tour. But the tour was Dent\u2019s dream, and that made all the difference.<\/strong><\/p>\n

The road from Augusta\u2019s caddie yards to golf riches was littered with hazards. Dent was not alone on that road. Many early players, of all races, emerged from the caddie ranks. With hard work, talent and that dream, Dent traveled the hard road and gained the respect of the world of golf.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Today, Dent seems content as he sprawls in a chair at Tampa\u2019s Rogers Park Golf Course (another layout carved out by black golfers in the 1950s). In his fine wool slacks, his soft leather loafers polished to a high sheen, Dent looks sleek. And even though Golf Channel<\/i> may send a chauffeured car to bring him to its Orlando studios, the ex-caddie has never forgotten who he is.<\/strong><\/p>\n

When Dent was a child, his father, Tom, drove a pulpwood truck. With Dent\u2019s mother, Carrie, Tom owned wooded farmland not far from Augusta Country Club. The fourth of six children, as a little boy Dent\u2019s job on the farm was to make the fire in the morning.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cI was big enough to do that,\u201d Dent said. \u201cI was still real young when my parents died, but there was my aunt. Her name was Mary Benton, a great lady in my life.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent\u2019s mother died when Jim was six. His father died when Jim was 12. Benton, a housekeeper at one of Augusta\u2019s big houses, raised Jim and three of his siblings with a firm hand. When young Jim said he wanted to caddie to earn money, Aunt Mary said no. \u201cIf you learn how to caddie, you\u2019re going to learn how to gamble,\u201d she said.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cKids think they\u2019re the smartest people in the world,\u201d Dent said. \u201cSecond thing I learned how to do when I learned how to caddie was shoot dice and play cards. She was dead right.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Benton finally allowed Jim to caddie and eventually play golf, perhaps swayed by the presence of a minister, Jimmy Raines. Raines was also a good golfer and he conducted Bible studies in a field that Dent and his friends had turned into a few golf holes. On Saturdays, the boys played three holes before Bible study.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what really got us into golf and got some of us straight too,\u201d Dent said. \u201cHe saved a few of us.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent first caddied at Augusta Country Club, where the worst golfers paid $4 or $5 a round and the best players paid just $2. He sought out the better players, despite more meager paydays.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted the best golfers because I\u2019d learn a lot from them,\u201d he said. \u201cMy aim was to watch them play but I didn\u2019t know what a golf swing was all about.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent later caddied at Augusta National Golf Club during the Masters and studied the best players \u2013 Hogan, Nelson, Snead, Demaret and Burke \u2013 then applied what he learned to his own swing. He was 17 when he bought his first set of clubs from Henry Avery, a kind shop hand at Augusta Country Club, for a hard-earned $30. \u201cThat was a lot of caddieing,\u201d Dent said.<\/strong><\/p>\n

One of Dent\u2019s most memorable loops was with Masters champion Bob Goalby. Goalby would become a friend but at first the relationship was contentious. Goalby, Dent said, was temperamental.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cOne day he said to me, \u2018You go in.\u2019 I said, \u2018OK, I\u2019m going.\u2019 He said, \u2018Pick up the bag. That\u2019s what\u2019s wrong with you guys, you\u2019re too temperamental!\u2019 He could change that fast and say things like that. I learned that golf can make you do some crazy things.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Frank Stranahan, who wouldn\u2019t let Dent touch the club grips, was another client, as was Marty Fergol, another free spirit. \u201cHe told me you can\u2019t win with a ball over No. 7. And he said, \u2018Don\u2019t smoke, son, because smoke gets in your eyes and you can\u2019t see,\u2019\u201d Dent remembered.<\/strong><\/p>\n

There were serious challenges. As a child, he lost his parents. As a teenager, he carried golf bags to earn a little money. Now the color of his skin kept him from many of Augusta\u2019s golf courses. It was just the way things were.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent is philosophical about that discrimination.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cIf they tell you, \u2018That\u2019s water over there. You can\u2019t go in that water. Gators are in there. Don\u2019t go in there,\u2019 you\u2019d be a fool to go in there,\u201d he said. \u201cBut you don\u2019t let things like that bother you if you want to do something. Schools were segregated and you didn\u2019t let that bother you. You\u2019d go crazy! That\u2019s the reason you see so many young boys today, black and white, they get carried up in stuff they can\u2019t do.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the scramble to find places to play, Dent had some success. The four armed forces golf courses in Augusta allowed blacks and on Mondays, caddies could play where they worked. Access was hard.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cYou really didn\u2019t think about that,\u201d Dent said. \u201cYou don\u2019t let nothing keep you back. At Augusta Country Club, if you went out and helped them take crabgrass out of the greens, you could play Friday morning. It wasn\u2019t nothing to go out there and spend an hour or more. All you gotta do is cut the crabgrass up. So we did that. And there was a field down there where we played golf. They\u2019ve made it a range at the Augusta Country Club but that\u2019s where we used to play golf. We had about six holes down there. See, a lot of things happened back in the Jim Crow days but there was some places you could go play.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

In 1959, Dent won a football scholarship and played end at predominantly-black Paine College, a Methodist school in Augusta not far from The Hill. The lure of golf was too great, however, and Dent quit school after a year to work on his game. He knocked around Atlantic City, N.J., for about seven years, working as a busboy and waiter at the Smithfield Inn. He and James Black, another fine black player who helped Dent with his game, traveled to some events conducted by the United Golfers Association, the association for black golfers.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent followed his dream to California and met Mose Stevens, a wealthy black businessman who gave Dent his next big boost. Stevens was more than impressed with Dent\u2019s ability to hit the ball long. Each morning, Stevens bought a big tub of balls at a local driving range and left Dent to practice.<\/strong><\/p>\n

A chance encounter brought Dent to 1933 U.S. Open champion Johnny Goodman, who was also the 1937 U.S. Amateur champion. Goodman was intrigued by Dent\u2019s talent, so Stevens ponied up $125 for Dent to take six lessons from the old champion.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to take what you got and work with what you got,\u201d Goodman said then.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cHow great can a conversation be if you\u2019ve got any kind of common sense,\u201d Dent said. \u201cHe\u2019s going to take what you got and work with you. And so, he worked with me and he showed me.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Along the way, Goodman shared stories of his life: How he had ridden the rails from Omaha, Neb., to Pebble Beach, where he beat Bob Jones in the 1929 U.S. Amateur.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cNow, how great a speech is that for a man to tell you and you want to do something that he already did?\u201d said Dent. \u201cHe was a great guy. He showed me how to chip and how to run the ball up. Johnny was a great ambassador of golf.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the late 1960s, Dent made his first try at the PGA Tour qualifying school, shooting 74-75, then sliding to an 85.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cMade nine straight bogeys,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd it was a blessing. It let me know I just wasn\u2019t ready.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

He went back to California to work on his game. The following year, he fired 282 for 72 holes at Tucson (Arizona) Country Club and qualified for the PGA Tour.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cIt was the show!\u201d said Dent. \u201cI learned when you get out there with those guys, you got to produce. You just don\u2019t want to be happy out there. I got better each year and the third year I finished in the top 60 and top 60 was the glory days. You were exempt to everything. It was great.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Along the way, Dent remembers, he had a lot of help: Homero Blancas and Paul Runyan worked with him on his short game. Joe Roach, a well-known caddie, sometimes carried his bag. More importantly, as a black player in the 1970s, he was not alone. Charlie and Curtis Sifford, Lee Elder, Chuck Thorpe and George Johnson formed the nucleus of a group of about a dozen black players on the tour. Dent said he faced very little discrimination.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, I never had any problems because Charlie Sifford, Pete Brown and Lee Elder, those guys just kind of paved the way,\u201d he said.<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the course of his PGA Tour career, Dent won four unofficial tournaments and a bit more than a half-million dollars, then headed for the riches of what is now the Champions Tour. He won more than $9 million in senior golf. Dent has great memories of those days, not so much of the 12 victories he earned, but of how spectators embraced the senior golfers. Birmingham, Ala., was a great stop. The 1999 U.S. Senior Open in Des Moines, Iowa, where thousands of spectators gave the players huge ovations, is another favorite memory.<\/strong><\/p>\n

While he will never have to caddie again, Jim Dent has never forgotten where he came from. Along the way, he bought a fine house for his aunt, Mary Benton. When he gave her the keys, he told her the house was in her name. Benton said Dent should keep it in his name. \u201cNo,\u201d he told the great lady, \u201cyou need something in your name.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent seems at peace. At 72, he plays in scattered senior tournaments, including the Legends of Golf. Because he\u2019s a colorful interview he can occasionally be seen on television. He\u2019s a generous man who makes charity appearances and has been known to aid old friends who are down on their luck.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He has two children from his first marriage. Dent and his wife, Willye, to whom he\u2019s been married for 21 years, have adopted\u00a0five children. His family life is gratifying but golf is never far from Jim Dent\u2019s mind.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I learned about playing golf has probably kept me all through life,\u201d he said. \u201cYou had to be honest. You had to work at it. You just couldn\u2019t pick it up today and not come back \u2018till next week. And if you broke a rule, you had to turn yourself in.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

Dent\u2019s passion for the game has taken him from a boyhood in Augusta\u2019s caddie yards to the pinnacle of a great peak, made up of players who helped pave the way for others. If Dent\u2019s life today seems very good, it\u2019s because he earned it in the most extraordinary way.<\/strong><\/p>\n

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Sharing his father\u2019s dream<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Jim Dent on his son golf-playing Joseph: \u2018He\u2019s going to be a great asset to this game.<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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