Author: Andy Brumer

During the first throes of my lifelong love affair with golf, Arnie was my idol, my first favorite, a hero to me then, and far more than a King. Arnie was God.  My dad had bought me an Arnold Palmer golf glove, its smooth, white cabretta leather emitting a pungent odor that I find impossible to name or compare with anything else. I would sleep wearing that multi-colored/umbrella-embroidered Arnold Palmer golf glove. One could say Arnie and the game of golf had an equal grip on me.