Arnie aims to give his army one last hurrah

If you want to know what he means to Augusta, then consider this: Mayor Bob Young declared yesterday Arnold Palmer Day and, at a civic reception last night, gave the legendary star a crystal key to the city.

And, even though he is in his seventies, Palmer remains in huge demand with advertisers, his face a regular sight on commercial TV breaks in America. Forty years after his last major win, he still earns more sponsorship dollars than any other golfer, bar Tiger Woods.

I met Palmer in his office at Bay Hill, the country club he owns in Orlando and which plays host every March to his tournament on the U.S. tour, the Bay Hill Invitational.

His office underlines the humility that lies at the heart of why he is perhaps the most-loved sportsman of all. Not for Palmer a huge suite overlooking the 18th hole. He has a small room overlooking the car park. It is cluttered with paraphernalia arising from his twin passions, golf and aeroplanes. On one shelf is a model of the Cessna Citation X jet that he piloted to Daniel Field Airport in Augusta yesterday.

When he played in his first Masters in 1955, Palmer also parked at Daniel Field, but on that occasion it was in a caravan park attached to the airport. He had towed the caravan for 14 hours from Miami driving a battered old Ford. He and his wife Winnie lived in it for one last week before he agreed to her no-holds-barred request to get rid of it.

Palmer's handshake is strong, his smile warm and, as I sit down, his labrador puppy Mulligan settles himself on my right foot. Among the lifetime's memorabilia adorning Palmer's shelves is James Bradley's magnificent book, Flags Of Our Fathers, telling the story of what happened to the six soldiers who planted the American flag on Iwo Jima, the most famous U.S. photograph from World War II.

'I'm thrilled you've mentioned that,' said Palmer.

He won his first U.S. Masters in 1958. The following year, he was walking past a scoreboard during the early holes when he came across something that still causes him to shiver with excitement. 'There were some soldiers who had taken the week off from nearby Fort Gordon to man the scoreboard,' he said. 'And they were holding up a sign. It said: "Arnie's Army".'

So Arnie's Army was born and two years later there were so many recruits holding up signs pledging their allegiance that Augusta had to ban them. For the first time golf was sexy and trendy, and Palmer, handsome and playing the game in a swashbuckling style that was the antithesis of Ben Hogan - the dominant figure in the 1950s - was its Elvis Presley. In 1960 he won not only the Masters again but the U.S. Open, too.

Then came 1961, when Palmer took being friendly too far. 'I stood on the last hole one shot ahead of Gary Player and even now it makes me depressed thinking about what happened next. I was walking down the fairway and I spotted a friend of mine and he said: "Nice going. You won it".

'There is no other way of saying what happened next other than that I was a damn fool. I forgot my father's advice to keep my mind on my business. I ran up a six to lose by one and felt as bad walking away from that course as I have ever felt.'

Palmer won his first major championship at Augusta and also his last, the seventh of his career, in 1964. He contended for a few years after that but now his swashbuckling was being countered by the indefatigable Player and, more tellingly, by the calculated thrust of Jack Nicklaus, who combined unrivalled power with a beautiful mind.

Palmer recalled: 'In 1965, Jack broke Ben Hogan's old tournament record by three and we had entered his era of being an Augusta historymaker. It never altered what I thought of the place when I stopped winning. It still doesn't now, even though I'm well aware of my age and my ability to play. I remember my first year, looking forward all winter to getting there and seeing instantly the difference, even smelling it.

'Back then there were some courses we played that were so badly-conditioned I started out at 5ft 11in and finished up measuring 5ft 13in, such was the build-up of mud on the soles of my shoes.

'Then you got to Augusta. You saw people like Hogan and Sam Snead and I met the tournament' s co-founders, Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts. It was just so special and every year since it's been so special.'

Palmer will be there this week with 10 family members, who will stay in two private homes. He says it is an opportunity to say goodbye to the fans who have supported him at Augusta through 148 competitive rounds and 11,012 shots, and for this emotional man it is going to be impossibly sentimental.

Some of his army are now so old that after walking 36 holes, they will probably need the rest of the month to recover. One man wears a jacket and hat bearing every Masters badge dating back to 1955.

All will savour Arnie walking over to say hello and they will reminisce as they watch what remains of that distinctive, flailing action.

When he walks up the 18th hole on Friday, let's hope that fate smiles as magiaffaircally as it did two weeks ago, when Palmer played his final shot in a regular U.S. Tour event, the Bay Hill Invitational.

Talk about a shot that defined a career. Standing in the middle of the fairway with his grandson Sam on the bag as caddy, Palmer had 230 yards to go to a green protected all down the right-hand side by water. Sam wanted him to hit a three wood into a relatively wide expanse, just before the hole funnels to the green.

'No, Sam,' said Palmer. 'Let's hit a driver. Let's go for the green.'

So the man who never learned the meaning of the words 'lay up' went with the driver and smashed a ball that ran and bounded through this narrow funnel no more than 10 yards wide before finishing 10ft from the flag. Patriarch and grandson laughed together and high-fived and the 40,000 crowd roared at the joy of it all.

Palmer will still turn up each year at Augusta. He will not need much persuading to play the role of honorary starter and he will attend the champions' dinner held each Tuesday of Masters week.

This June he will fly his own plane across the Atlantic to speak at the 250th anniversary dinner of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews.

He may even play in the Senior British Open at Royal Portrush in July if, as he puts it, 'I can find a shining light in my golf game'. His love with golf is so strong that even now he hits golf balls for three hours most days - 'and it would be eight hours if I could get this old body to work that long,' he exclaimed.

Before leaving, I asked him to sum up his life. 'The game from all aspects has presented me with an opportunity I have thoroughly enjoyed,' he said. 'I've enjoyed the Masters, where my major championship dreams began and ended.

'I enjoyed playing The Open in Britain and helping it get back on its feet. I've enjoyed being a member of the R&A. All these things, these memories, are invaluable to me. Yes, I've jumped the track on a few occasions in business and also in tournaments.

'But it has been a great life, a special life and it's one I enjoy to the utmost just talking to you about.'