The worst of times, the best of times at Birkdale

The year is 1973 and Jack Nicklaus is home alone. 

Showing on television is the Belmont Stakes, the third and final leg of American horse racing’s Triple Crown. Nicklaus has no real interest in the sport and barely knows which end of a horse eats, but watches anyway. Before the end of the race, which the immortal Secretariat won in a still-record time and by a phenomenal 31 lengths, the greatest golfer of all-time is on his knees in front of the box. He is beating the carpet with his fists and he is in tears.

Days later, Nicklaus relates that same tale to racing journalist Heywood Hale Broun and wonders why he would react in such a strange and emotional way to a mere horse race: “That’s easy,” says Broun. “You’ve been searching for sporting perfection your whole life and finally you saw it.”