OAKMONT, Pa. — Standing on the famed grounds of Oakmont Country Club, golfing legends Jack Nicklaus and Johnny Miller reflect on their historic U.S. Open victories and marvel at how time has barely touched the challenging course. Despite technological advancements that have lengthened the course since Nicklaus’s playoff win over Arnold Palmer in 1962, and the unprecedented 63-shot final round by Miller the following decade, the true test lies in the greens, likened to putting on a basketball court.
Nicklaus recounted conversations with fellow golfers, emphasizing the critical role of putting at Oakmont. “I was talking to some of the guys in the locker room a few minutes ago,” Nicklaus recalled on Saturday. “I said it’s all about the putting. Even now, I’m still smarting over my one and only three-putt of the tournament.” His win, with a 1-under par, underscores the necessity of patience and steadiness — qualities equally critical today as they were then.
At present, only a handful of competitors stand under par at the tournament’s halfway mark, with Oakmont hosting its tenth U.S. Open. Historically, merely 27 players have concluded a major championship under par at this prestigious venue, leaving the final rounds with the potential to adjust that record.
Miller’s victory in 1973 remains iconic, largely because his expectations had waned after a disappointing third round 76, leaving him six shots adrift. However, defying the odds on a receptive course, he produced what he describes as “literally a perfect round of golf,” missing only one fairway and hitting every green.
He reflects on the day, noting, “It’s incredibly difficult at Oakmont to hit all 18 greens and avoid downhill putts.” Both Nicklaus and Miller faced challenges presented by Arnold Palmer, especially in Palmer’s home state of Pennsylvania. Nicklaus, then just 22, held his focus on winning despite the fervent support for Palmer. “I was just a kid with tunnel vision,” Nicklaus said. “Winning was all that mattered — I was oblivious to the crowd’s allegiance.”
If Nicklaus had to offer a club to commemorate his triumph, he would choose the one that helped him avoid all but one three-putt in 90 holes. Miller, on the other hand, despite avoiding a direct response about his hypothetical club contribution, excelled in every aspect — driving, striking, and putting with aggressive precision, a strategy against traditional caution.
Embracing an aggressive mindset, Miller stated, “I never liked close games. My goal was to fill the hole with golf balls until the round ended. No aiming away. I liked the thrill of aggressive play.”
Miller’s candidness extended beyond play to his 29-year commentary stint at NBC, where he explained mounting pressure without mincing words. The evolution of the sport is evinced through financial disparities. In this year’s edition, the prize totals $21.5 million, with a $4.3 million payout for the winner. Nicklaus’s victory yielded $17,500, and Miller’s brought in $30,000 — a drastic contrast compared to today’s earnings, fueled by the PGA Tour’s monetary rivalry with LIV Golf’s backing.
Recalling those times, Nicklaus mused, “I wish we had the current financial opportunities. But Johnny and I blazed the trail for the current generation. Hogan and Snead did the same for us. The drive to excel transcends financial changes. We competed then as fiercely as players do now.”