All his life Palmer stuck up for the little guy; he stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow blue-collar patriots, just as his father Deacon had. He was the man to have beside you in the trenches when the going got tough.

If they’d had golf in the Olympics in Mr. Palmer’s day, who do you think would have been invited to carry the Stars and Stripes on behalf of the nation at the opening ceremony? As Palmer poignantly penned in his last Welcome letter for Kingdom, in the Fall issue, “If the IOC opts for an over-80s section I’m in!”

For such a stellar performer on the world sporting stage, a man whose individual triumphs eclipsed those of nearly everyone in the history of the game, he was the ultimate flag-bearer and waver.

It all began at high school where the rough-and-ready education Deacon instilled around the fringes at Latrobe Country Club was smoothed out. Naturally, young Arnold towered above all his contemporaries as a golfer, not just at his own high school but across the state of Pennsylvania; but he was always reduced to the ranks when he returned to his pro-shop shoe-cleaning, ball-shagging and caddying duties at Latrobe.

“In those days Wake’s golf team was something of a doormat in the old Southern Conference,” wrote Palmer in A Golfer’s Life. Fortunately, ambition burned bright in the bosoms of both Weaver and the golf coach, Johnny Johnston. Thanks to that duo’s shrewd selection policy, Palmer, Worsham and a clutch of other gifted recruits like Jim Flick—who went on to become one of the game’s foremost teaching professionals—were given the chance to put the Deacons on the map as a golfing power. Two Southern Conference championships duly arrived in 1948 and 1949 while Palmer’s individual honors included medalist at the 1949 and 1950 National Intercollegiate (NCAA) championships and winning the 1950 Southern Intercollegiate title.

Almost overnight, in classic Cinderella fashion, the doormat had been transformed into a rich red carpet. But it was important the litmus paper so dazzlingly ignited by these exceptional talents was not extinguished with equal abruptness once they graduated and departed to the wider world. The torch of their legacy had to be passed on so Wake Forest could consolidate its newfound status as a golf power.

Just two years later, at East Lake in Atlanta, Georgia, Palmer was elected captain by his teammates—the last time anyone served as a playing captain—and went on to win four of his six matches, though on this occasion one of his two losses was in singles against Alliss.

In 1965, at Royal Birkdale in England, scene of his 1961 [British] Open triumph, Palmer teamed up in the fourballs and foursomes with his great friend Dave Marr, winning two and losing two, before enjoying a brace of singles successes.

After three resounding U.S. wins, it was one-way traffic again two years later at the Champions Golf Club in Houston, Texas. By the second afternoon the home side was out of sight and Palmer had already won both his matches alongside Gardner Dickinson. Lacking motivation, he embarrassingly found himself three down in a fourball alongside Julius Boros. At that point Jackie Burke, the professional at the host club, bluntly told Palmer he’d lose and promised to make him “a beautiful, hand-made clock” if he were to win. Of course, the American pair rallied to a one-up victory and after completing the week with two emphatic singles wins Palmer duly collected his clock with “the 12 letters of my name where the numbers usually are.”

After missing the tied match in 1969 at Royal Birkdale, Palmer returned for the U.S. two years later at Old Warson Country Club in St. Louis. His 100 percent record in the fourballs and foursomes, when he teamed up with Nicklaus and then Dickinson, was blemished by just a half point in his two singles. By the time he lost to Peter Oosterhuis on the final afternoon, though, the result was a foregone conclusion.

A convincing home victory famously included two singles defeats for Nicklaus by Scotland’s Brian Barnes. “It’s kind of funny now, but it was no laughing matter then,” was Palmer’s solemn verdict.

That was far from Palmer’s last experience of captaincy. In the second Presidents Cup match in 1996 at the Robert Trent Jones Golf Club in Gainesville, Virginia, he presided over a narrow (one-point) U.S. victory against an International team led by his erstwhile Australian sparring partner Peter Thomson. The outcome remained in doubt to the end, until Fred Couples drained a 35-foot birdie putt on the 17th green to close out the final singles against Vijay Singh.

Palmer’s commitment to the team cause had by then taken another twist and the following year saw the start of an eponymous series of annual, Ryder Cup-style matches between college golfers from the U.S. and GB&I (later extended to Europe). The first Palmer Cup was hosted by the great man at Bay Hill Club & Lodge and the record currently stands at 10-9-1 in favor of the Americans. Played over a championship course, many of its former participants are now household names, including Dustin Johnson.

Palmer was delighted at the success of the Palmer Cup, but what especially pleased him was the camaraderie of the players: rivals on the course, friends off it. Such could have been the motto for how Palmer himself approached the game of golf, and indeed the game of life.