“Do you drive fast?” Chi Chi Rodriguez’s eyes twinkled under his trademark Panama hat as he shot that question at me from the front door of his Lexus, where he stood poised to fold his still lithe, if sore, body into the driver’s seat. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Never mind that the gala for the Roberto Clemente Walker Celebrity All-Star Weekend at which Rodriguez was honored the night before had gone past midnight. Or that he had gotten up at the crack of dawn, in the rain, to hit balls with Juan Marichal, David Ortiz, Rod Gilbert, and the other pro athletes and corporate notables participating in the weekend’s celebrity golf tournament in Fajardo, Puerto Rico. Or that the 68-year-old links legend had taken a tumble on the wet course, smearing his rain pants with mud, much to the consternation of his wife of 38 years, Iwalani.
| ‘I see 150 people making a living. I see an opportunity to teach some kids how to play golf—and maybe find the next Chi Chi Rodriguez before I die’ |
No, never mind that. Chi Chi was rarin’ to go—and I was going to have to air out my little rental car to keep up.
The 5-foot-7-inch, 145-pound Puerto Rican sprite who has won eight tournaments on the PGA Tour, 22 on the Champions (a.k.a. Senior PGA) Tour, and countless awards for his humanitarian work was eager to show off his latest, greatest project: El Legado Golf Resort, in Guayama, on the southern coast of Puerto Rico, set to open this fall.
Chi Chi and Iwalani, a former hula dancer Rodriguez met when she was on tour, are understandably proud of the $100 million project that is transforming 285 acres of dry flatland into a 7,213-yard championship golf course complete with condos, a luxury hotel, a modern clubhouse, and a golf school. “We are going to have one of the top 10 courses in the world,” he says.
“But you know what my favorite thing about this place is? I see 150 people making a living. I see an opportunity to teach some kids how to play golf—and maybe find the next Chi Chi Rodriguez before I die.”
El Legado means “The Legacy,” and Rodriguez takes the name seriously.
True to his word, Rodriguez covered the 30-mile stretch to Guayama in a flash, racing along highways and mountain byways alike. His vehicular feints and dodges were worthy of a man who was known on the Tour nearly as much for his swordplay as for the birdies that preceded his renowned stab-wipe-and-thrust routine. What is that all about, anyway?
“I used to put my hat over the hole when I made a birdie putt because I didn’t want the bird to fly out,” Rodriguez explains. “That happened to me once when I was a kid. I was playing with another boy and we had a little bet going. I made a long putt for a birdie, but there was a frog in the hole and it jumped out with my ball. The other kid said it didn’t count because the ball has to hit the bottom of the hole. And he was right.
“After that, I always put my hat over the hole to keep the bird inside. But the other players complained, and the Tour commissioner asked me to come up with something else. So I thought of a bullfight: making a birdie is conquering the hole, like a bullfighter conquers a bull. I ‘kill’ the hole, wipe off the blood, and put the sword away…. In real life, though, I don’t like bullfighting.”
Nevertheless, the fans love his toreador routine, and Rodriguez has plenty of opportunities to share it. He played 10 Tour events last year and is in much demand, making some 50 appearances in clinics and exhibitions in 2003 alone. “I still do a good clinic,” he allows. “I enjoy getting people to laugh.”
That’s not so common in golf these days, Rodriguez says. “I watch these guys on the Tour today and they don’t even look at the gallery.”
| ‘Everything I ever had I have shared. If you worry about giving, you will never have enough, of anything’ |
The game golfer is blunt in his comparison of today’s players with his contemporaries. “Today’s young players, unfortunately, all look alike. Only Tiger Woods is different. And Phil Mickelson is a little different. Mostly, they are the same. They are nice role models. But they make a long putt and don’t even crack a smile,” Rodriguez says. “We had more players with personality because we didn’t play for the money. We played for the love of the game and the love of competition. Face it, we only played golf to become the head pro at a golf course. Now they play to buy the golf course.”
These days, Rodriguez seems to play for kids. An inaugural inductee into the World Sports Humanitarian Hall of Fame in 1994, Rodriguez has helped thousands of disadvantaged youngsters over the years. Since 1979, the Chi Chi Rodriguez Youth Foundation in Clearwater, Florida, has improved the lives of at-risk youth through its school, after-school, and golf programs. In addition, his Chi Chi Rodriguez G-Man Desert Shootout, held annually in Palm Springs, California, has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars to provide scholarships to children of FBI agents killed in the line of duty.
How did he get involved in all these things? “I have no clue,” Rodriguez smiles. “It just happens.”
It might just happen to have something to do with growing up poor on the outskirts of San Juan, the fifth of six children of a laborer and a housekeeper who shared what little they had. “My father would give his dinner to any hungry kids who walked by and then go in the backyard and pick weeds from the yard to eat,” Rodriguez says. “Everything I ever had I have shared. If you worry about giving, you will never have enough, of anything.”
His generosity has yielded wonderful results. “We have thousands of kids who have gone through our foundation who are engineers, lawyers, doctors, and F-16 pilots,” Rodriguez says. “For me, the satisfaction comes from knowing that I was put on this planet to leave it better when I die. And that’s what I am planning to do.”
Rodriguez, who says he doesn’t care much for organized religion, counts meeting Mother Teresa—which he did at an airport in the Philippines nearly 30 years ago—as a personal high point. “I shook her hand and every hair on my body stood up,” he says. They spoke for 45 minutes, mostly about good works and compassion. “That was the best 45 minutes of my life.”
So far.
The irrepressible Rodriguez still approaches life as a grand adventure, whether he’s tearing along some mountain road in Puerto Rico, making plans to start a supersenior golf tour, or making his film debut, as he did this year with a cameo role in the comedy Welcome to Mooseport, starring Gene Hackman and Ray Romano. Rodriguez had a ball (literally) last August shooting his one scene, in which he plays himself, with Hackman, who plays a fictional former U.S. president.
“I’ve always admired Gene Hackman as an actor, and I knew with Ray Romano it would be something kids could watch and laugh at,” says Rodriguez, explaining why he’d go in front of the cameras at an age when many are starting to hide from them. “Besides,” he adds, “it’s good to try to do something for the first time in your life when you are in your 60s.”
Has he tried anything else recently that he had never done before?
“Sure,” quipped Rodriguez, a large grin breaking across his face. “Listening to my wife.”
Like he said, the man loves to make people laugh.
This article was originally published in the July-August 2004 issue of AARP The Magazine.
New Jersey-based Cathrine Wolf is the former managing editor of Golf Journal.