(6 of 9)
While working evenings at Hardy's Pitch-N-Putt, Trevino would attract a crowd by playing with a quart-size Dr Pepper bottle wrapped in adhesive tape. If the stakes were right, he would match his bottle against any challenger's clubs. Rarely shooting above a 30 on the nine-hole course, he says, "I never lost a bet using that bottle." He did lose a few suckers. "On the driving range once," recalls his longtime friend Arnold Salinas, "a guy bet Lee he couldn't hit the 100-yd. sign. Lee looked at him and said, 'Which zero do you want me to hit?' The guy backed down."
In 1964, Lee postponed marrying his second wife Claudia, a pert blonde he affectionately refers to as "Clyde," so that he could enter a pro-am tournament in Fort Worth. On the first hole, he bounced in an eagle, then birdied the second, third, fourth, fifth, eighth and ninth holes to turn the first nine in 29. He finished with an incredible 61, eleven strokes under par. Recalls Claudia: "That was the first time I'd ever seen anybody play golf. You know, I thought that was the way you were supposed to play." So she felt consolations were in order. "Don't worry, honey," she said, "one day you'll birdie all 18 holes."
Down the River Beds
Trevino quit his job at Hardy's in 1965 and decided to go to the Panama Open with an aspiring Dallas sponsor. Unfortunately, neither Lee nor his backer could afford the plane fare, so the two men spent 71 days driving to Panama, sleeping in the car, grinding up horse trails and bouncing down boulder-strewn river beds. Trevino placed fifth in the tourney, won $716.16, and flew back to Dallas. For the rest of that year, he struggled along, giving lessons and entering small pro-am tournaments around the state. As a teacher, he was known to get his point across with cutting humor. "If I were you," he told one student, "I'd go out and practice all day every day for two whole weeks. Hit buckets of balls. Work on all your shots. And then I'd quit. Sell my clubs and quit." Even as a part-time pro, he so dominated the local competition that when he registered for one tournament, the officials handed him the first-place money before he even teed off.
Word of Trevino's feats soon reached Martin Lettunich, a wealthy cotton farmer who had been steadily losing bets to a hot local golfer at the Horizon City Country Club in El Paso. Seeking revenge, Lettunich telephoned Trevino in Dallas and offered to pay his expenses if he would come to El Paso and play the home-town star in a "sociable game." Trevino. who was broke as usual, agreed to come, instantly. "I shot a 65 and 67 and beat him like a tom-tom. I turned him every way but loose." That earned Trevino $300 and the chance to become a teaching pro at Horizon City. The salary—$30 a week—did not interest him, but the prospect of more "sociable games" and the opportunity to hone his game did. He accepted.