This article was first published in the April 2025 edition of GOLF Magazine.

“Now, up the hill. Huh-ho! Oh, did you ever see one quite like that? I think that’s one of the greatest putts I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The inimitable Henry Longhurst uttered those words as one of the most clutch and memorable moments in major championship history unfolded. His call for CBS’s TV broadcast was barely audible over the throaty thunder from spectators amassed on the opposite side of Ike’s Pond at Augusta National’s 16th hole. Longhurst’s status as “the Voice of Golf ” and his understated but gleeful words enhanced the experience for viewers soaking it up at home.

That the putt was made by Jack Nicklaus in pursuit of his fifth title at Augusta is crucial to why, 50 years later, the 1975 Masters is the original “Best Masters Ever.” But it’s the panorama of high drama that lingers still in our minds and amidst the pines.

In later years, when he was better known as a television commentator who spoke the truth, Johnny Miller sometimes referred to the 1970s as the era of the “superguns.” In 1975, the 27-year-old Miller was one of them, and the leaderboard after the first round that April at Augusta was packing heat: Nicklaus, Arnold Palmer, Tom Weiskopf, Tom Watson and Lee Trevino were all in the top 10. Miller, after bogeying the first hole, carded 75 and said he was “choking” at the start of his round. By Saturday evening, however, Miller was in third place, having lit up Augusta with a third-round 65 after a string of six consecutive birdies on the front nine.

“I started the day just trying to play my way back into the top 15,” he said. “After the birdie at the 6th, I started thinking, Hey, this isn’t too shabby a round. I had a good year last year, but I was lousy in the major championships. This time I was determined to prove I’m not a dog in the big ones. The press has been on me a little bit about that.”

In the lead at nine under was Weiskopf. One back was Nicklaus. Miller stood at –5, one ahead of Watson.

As the 1975 season began, Nicklaus was nearing the end of his prime. He had 12 of his eventual 18 professional majors in his pocket and, at age 35, was already a member of the World Golf Hall of Fame. He was, however, far from being a has-been. He won two Tour events in the weeks leading up to the Masters.

Weiskopf and Miller were in prime position to knock off the Golden Bear and maybe ascend to golf’s Olympus in the process. It had been nearly two years since Nicklaus won a major championship. For his part, in 1975, Miller had won three tournaments prior to the Masters. He’d had one previous runner-up finish at Augusta (1971), and Weiskopf, who’d just the Sunday before the ’75 Masters won the Greater Greensboro Open, had three times been a bridesmaid for the green jacket (1969, 1972, 1974).

Nicklaus and Watson were the penultimate twosome on Sunday, with Weiskopf and Miller behind them. The shooting started early — after an opening bogey, Nicklaus birdied the 2nd, 3rd, 5th and 9th holes. Weiskopf made birdies at the 3rd and 6th holes, and Miller racked up five birdies and was out in 32. The audience at home saw none of this, as only the back nine was televised back in the day. As they made the turn, Nicklaus and Weiskopf were tied at –11, with Miller at –9.

For all their fame and impact on the outcome of each Masters, the holes that constitute Amen Corner (11, 12 and 13) are somewhat isolated. On April 13, 1975, as the tension built across Augusta National, Nicklaus was mostly out of sight of Weiskopf and Miller. That was about to change as the three played the pivotal final four holes.

It was at the par-5 15th, with 232 yards to the hole, that Nicklaus — dressed in white Sansabelts and a green shirt with white horizontal stripes — played a 1-iron for his second shot. He always maintained that the 1-iron was his favorite club, and he nearly holed it, missing by inches as the ball rolled past the flagstick at a pace that would have let it in. As Nicklaus confidently strode toward the green, giving his familiar two-handed wave to the crowd and patting his caddie, Willie Peterson, on the top of his cap, Weiskopf was back on the 14th green rolling in a birdie to move briefly into the lead. On the same hole, after some tree issues, Miller hit the flagstick with his third shot. All three players would birdie the 15th. Within view of Weiskopf and Miller, Nicklaus was making his swing on the 16th with a 5-iron, and, almost immediately upon seeing its flight, grumpily said, “Get up.”

“Ah, disappointing one there,” said Longhurst from his position by the green. “He’s 40 feet — at least — short and to the left. He has a long slope to come up. It’s rather a disappointment for Jack Nicklaus.”

Next up at the 16th was Watson, who, while never really being in the race, had acquitted himself well — until his tee ball. He too said “Get up” as soon as he made contact, and it was difficult to assess from the tee whether his ball was playable alongside Ike’s Pond. It was not, and, as Watson moved to the drop area to play his third, Nicklaus stood waiting by the green. When Watson hit his reload into the water, he had to play yet another ball from the drop area, finally finding the green with his fifth stroke — but he was still away. All the seconds adding up were creating theater.

At this point, Nicklaus was watching and waiting for what seemed like an eternity for Miller and Weiskopf to finish things up on the 15th green before he could proceed. The scoreboard read: Weiskopf –12, Nicklaus –11, Miller –10. After the short walk to the 16th tee, Miller and Weiskopf arrived in time to wait on Nicklaus as he stared pensively at the line of his 40-foot birdie putt, giving his white glove the iconic tug as he surveyed, then went into his familiar hunched putting stance.

“Now, up the hill. Huh-ho!”

Nicklaus turned about in celebration, leaped while facing the tee, thrust his putter into the air — then stalked off the green. Now tied with Nicklaus at –12, Weiskopf quickly moved to play. His ball barely cleared the water and failed to reach the front of the green.

“If he does lose,” said Longhurst, “I think perhaps that will be the one that did it.”

Weiskopf ’s ball was 45 yards from the hole, and it took him three with the putter to get down. The show was in its final act, but it wasn’t over yet. When Miller made three at the 17th, Nicklaus, now on the 18th green, turned toward the noise and grinned, for the moment knowing someone had made a birdie — but was it Weiskopf or Miller? By the time he putted, the scoreboard gave him the answer: He had a precarious one-stroke advantage over the two players behind him.

Both Miller and Weiskopf hit very fine second shots onto the home green. Miller had 15 feet for the tie, Weiskopf had eight. Miller missed low and carded 66 on the day. Weiskopf missed high — and had his fourth second-place finish at Augusta.

Nicklaus became the first player to wear the green jacket five times. Later in life, reflecting on their battle, Miller said, “We were the three best players in the world going at it. That’s probably never happened before in a major. We were all playing good — and it was nothing but fun.”

“I can’t believe I lost this tournament,” said Weiskopf after the round. “It comes down to the last hole, and you hit a good drive, a good approach shot and a good putt and it stays out. All I know is, one of these days the putt is going in, and I’ll win a Masters.”

The putt never did.

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