© Lawrence Levy Photographic Collection and the Levy Foundation, all rights reserved. Courtesy of the University of St Andrews Libraries and Museums, ID: 2008-1-20479′.
I met Rafe Botts twice, first at a Lee Elder Invitational in the early ‘90s and again in 2013 at Langston Golf Course in Washington, D.C. The latter was an event featuring James Black, Botts, Lee Elder, and Calvin Peete, probably the last time these four Black golfing greats were together. Peete passed in 2015, Elder in 2021, and Black in 2023. When Stanley Botts, Rafe’s youngest sibling, informed me of his brother’s passing, I felt an obligation to give the man a tribute he deserved and one that I should have given during his lifetime. Before embarking on this historical journey, I had only a superficial understanding of Botts’ remarkable life and career.
Only after making my own deep dive did I realize that I had overlooked Pete McDaniel’s fine treatment of Botts in Uneven Lies. It is a missed signal that I should have learned from long before his passing. Only now have I realized how much more of an understanding of the African American golf experience I could have gathered from him personally. I regret never having interviewed him about his own life and career but also about the milieu in which he lived and worked and about the well-known and ordinary individuals with whom he interacted.
Fortunately, the digitization of records and their easy access to researchers facilitates the retrieval of voices and information that not long ago would take months if not years of searching. Rafe loved the media and was loved, more often than not, in return. The frequent and often extensive coverage of Rafe by the press gave him a big footprint here and abroad, as Rafe, more than any other Black golfer, took his game around the world.
Then why don’t we hear about Rafe Botts in the same way as his contemporaries Charlie Sifford, Pete Brown, Lee Elder, and Jim Dent? The simple answer is that he never won an official PGA Tour event. A more complicated one is that Rafe, with enormous talent, was burdened throughout his early career by expectations of greatness. That not only meant winning the big tournaments but also large of sums money, making him a source of pride for Blacks who saw golf victories at the highest level against the best white players as a collective validation of their value.
Victory on the PGA Tour, however, did not come easy. One source estimates that 8% of all the players on the Tour have won one or more tournaments. That means 92% have not. That number does not account for race and its unquantifiable impact on success. Yet, Botts was reluctant to blame others and instead assumed personal responsibility and once admitted that he did not take winning as seriously as was required and let early success and celebrity go to his head. Botts’ importance, however, should not be measured in wins and losses but in how his experience sheds light on the sport and business of golf from a perspective of an African American pioneer in the golden age of the Black professional golfer. The experience was Dickensian in its contours as the best and worst of times. Here is the evidence as provided by an exploration of the career of Rafe Richard Botts.
On August 19, 1965, at the Carling World Golf Championship played at Pleasant Valley Country Club, in Sutton, Massachusetts, a young Rafe Botts, then known to most as “Ray,” sat for a remarkable interview with Paul Rimstead of the Toronto Star. There he gave a gut-wrenching, firsthand account of a Black golfer’s life on what is now known as the PGA Tour, which had opened its doors to Blacks only five years earlier.
Rimstead described Botts as “articulate and intelligent” with “an engaging personality.” These traits, combined with his swashbuckling style of play, impeccable dress, and approachability, made Botts a favorite of the fans and the media. Yet, as we shall see, Botts was not all smiles and laughter when wronged. The interview certainly shows that, at the time, he was not afraid to speak his mind although he refused to demonstrate or protest publicly and tended to avoid confrontational situations. That this interview was given to a foreign correspondent and paper also speaks to his measured approach to truth telling. There is no evidence that he ever spoke so candidly in public again.
Botts first admitted to Rimstead how afraid he was to play in the Pensacola Open in 1964, only 30 miles from the Alabama border. His fear only intensified on the course, seeing every tree as a prime position for a sniper. Particularly alarming were holes that bordered roads where a drive-by shooter would have clear aim. He reckoned that tensions might be even higher than usual as the PGA had demanded contractually that Pensacola and other southern venues integrate. Consequently, he felt there had to be more prejudice toward his fellow Black golfers and himself than ever before. He pointed to an incident in which a fan purposely stomped on Pete Brown’s ball to cause it to be embedded. Brown, in 1964, was the first African American golfer to win an official 72-hole event on the Tour. A constant disruption was the hate often spewing from the mouths of spectators.
Then Botts turned to white fellow competitors, whom he referred to as “Caucasians”. The author made note of that consistent word choice but offered no explanation. Perhaps it was a subtle reference by Botts to the infamous clause inserted into the 1934 PGA Constitution that restricted membership to those of the Caucasian race. Botts then recounted, the spouse of a white player ordered Rafe’s wife out of a restroom but she did not tell him until much later for fear that he might have “blown” his “top”. Then he related the time a fellow competitor recorded his scores wrong and when confronted threw his hands up in disgust as to say you folks are nothing but malcontents. According to Botts, Charlie Sifford, first Black player to achieve “approved player” status (1960) and considered by many to be “the Jackie Robinson of golf,” said it had happened to him and at least one other Black player.
Then they would hear white players ridiculing those who would dare play practice rounds with those “n-word” golfers. Botts did point to some white players whom he respected and trusted. His favorites were Jerry Barber of Los Angeles, who sponsored him for a Tour card and gave him lessons; George Knudson of Toronto, always friendly and helpful; and Gary Player of South Africa, who had hired Botts to drive his car during hard financial times. We will return to the enigmatic Player below. Yet, Botts understood that smiling faces can tell lies, and he offered proof. Once he mentioned to a fellow white pro that he feared for the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. and he responded “coolly”, “I hope they do kill him; he’s nothing but a troublemaker.” Rafe had hit a raw nerve and the truth came out.
Botts understood his audience and turned his attention to Canadians and his perception of their sincere tolerance of Blacks. One example was how white American men tended not to introduce their wives to him. Such an act is what we know now as a micro-aggression. The opposite he found to be true among Canadians, who introduced their wives first. On the level of golf, Canadian national tournaments had been open to Black golfers since 1939 when Louis Rafael Corbin of Bermuda played in the Canadian Open in New Brunswick and again in 1947 in Toronto. Ted Rhodes soon followed. To be sure, Canada was and is not without racial prejudice, however, it is not codified and manifests itself less blatantly than that of its southern neighbor.
The interview ended on a surreal note in which truth once again proved stranger than fiction. An inebriated American at the next table recognized Botts and asked if he could join the two men. Botts agreed and the guest heaped praise on Botts for his game, which he “warmly accepted.” Then, the clearly impaired man, uttered, “I hope you Jigs win a tournament one of these days.” Rafe politely thanked the man, rose without smiling, and walked away before turning to Rimstead and asking rhetorically, ‘“Do I have to offer further proof”’? Interestingly, less than three years later Botts had a very different tale to tell to Ronnie Joyce of the Pensacola News. When asked about prejudice, he then said, “I have not been mistreated, as a matter of fact, I think I may have received better treatment since I am a Negro.” Perhaps there was blowback from his candid interview with Rimstead or a realization that sugar would be more effective than vinegar in trapping the proverbial fly. One might see the positive comments as reward and encouragement for even the slightest positive change in the racial environment. They beg the question, however, which was the real Rafe Botts?
This interview alone suggests what an examination of Rafe Botts’ career might reveal about the plight of the Black professional golfer in the ‘60s and ‘70s, especially of one who never made it big in wins or career earnings. Rafe played competitive golf from the 1950s to the 1990s and travelled the world in pursuit of his dream. His golfing experience is like no other.
Rafe Richard Botts was born March 31, 1937, in Washington, D.C. to Horace Botts, Sr. a ditch digger and pipefitter, and Gladys L. Botts, homemaker. He was one of 11 children. According to Rafe, he discovered Langston and golf when he asked his father for a quarter and was told to find it on the golf course. Langston was within easy walking distance of his home and across the street from Spingarn High School where he was a teammate of future basketball Hall of Famer Elgin Baylor. At age 13, Rafe began caddying at Langston and was attracted to Theodore “Ted” Rhodes, known for his uncanny accuracy, fluid swing, and sartorial splendor.
All agreed that when in his prime and healthy, Rhodes was the greatest Black golfer of all and its best dresser. Rhodes became his golfing role model. Nathaniel “Nate” Starks, a contemporary of Botts recalls that Rhodes was, in the vernacular, “so clean” he often changed his attire after nine holes. Rafe was known to travel in a car full of neatly packed clothes and up to 50 pairs of shoes. Unlike the steady Rhodes, however, Rafe became a power player and one of the longest hitters on tour.
Caddying was the gateway to the game for so many African American youths and, Rafe, inspired by Rhodes, fell in love with golf. In 1953, he captured the junior boys championship of the United Golfers Association (UGA) at his home course Langston. In that same event, Charlie Sifford won his first UGA national professional title. The symmetry of these two wins foreshadowed a close life-long relationship between the then 16-year-old Botts and 31-year-old Sifford. Botts’ victory also coincided with the election of Dr. Kenneth Brown to the presidency of the UGA. A local physician, Brown was also president of the Royal Golf Club and the Eastern District of the UGA.
The United Golfers Association, founded in 1926, was the African American response to exclusion from white golf organizations, the courses upon which the game was played, and the game itself. National, regional, and local championships featuring men, women, and children were played on Black-owned and/or operated courses including Mapledale in Massachusetts, Shady Rest in New Jersey, and New Lincoln in Atlanta among others. With scores of local affiliates, the UGA fostered a golfing culture and community among Blacks that demonstrated organizational capacity, athletic excellence, and a dedication to civility.
In an age of the politics of respectability, golf was one of the most valued public platforms for demonstrating dignity—a trait rarely associated with Blacks. And as Rafe Botts and Charlie Sifford, among countless others, have demonstrated, the UGA did more than any other Black institution to develop and support the individual Black golfer at all levels of the game. As a case in point, Botts told Barry Lorge of the Washington Post, Dr. Brown took him all over the Northeast and beyond to play in tournaments when his parents probably had neither the time nor the money nor the interest to support a habit they thought “was nuts.”
Botts, to support his passion, took a job at the ultra-exclusive and still all-male Burning Tree Club in Bethesda, MD in 1956-57. In his role as pro-shop attendant, Botts claims to have met President Eisenhower and Vice President Nixon. Although Botts told others that he had caddied for Eisenhower, he informed Lorge that his relationship with Nixon was much closer and revealed a side of the Vice President that the public did not see or recognize. Rafe recalled that Nixon had his driver take him to the White House or even home and insisted that he sit in the back with him.
As the story goes, Rafe so impressed Nixon that the Vice President, offered to nominate him for an appointment to the United States Naval Academy but the four-year commitment after graduation did not fit into his future plans. Rafe chose Maryland State instead but did not finish. When drafted in 1961, Botts had second thoughts about his decision. Fittingly, Rafe won the first Navy Department Golf Tourney in the fall of 1957 and received the trophy from the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Richard Jackson. It marked a turning point in his amateur golf career.
Soon he garnered the attention of the Black golf community writ large. Ray Mitchell, a golf columnist and tourney promoter, tabbed Botts as “the golfer from the East to watch,” based on his showing in the 1958 UGA National Championship amateur division. Botts won Mitchell’s tourney in Asbury Park in 1959. Mitchell judged that Botts’ size, strength, power, and single-minded determination to become a champion pointed toward a promising future. Rafe proved Mitchell to be prophetic by winning the amateur division of the 1959 UGA National Open at Langston.
There was an interesting symmetry, as Richard Thomas, a Baltimore school teacher won the pro division, beating runner-up Charles Sifford by 12 strokes. Following Sifford’s lead, Thomas and Botts, would be part of the large cohort of Black golfers on the Tour in the ‘60s. Another important confluence saw thirteen-year-old Renee Powell win the Girls title. Renee would go on to star at Ohio State before becoming the second Black woman on the Ladies Professional Golf Association Tour (LPGA Tour) after Althea Gibson had broken the color barrier.
Immediately after his victory, Rafe announced he was turning pro and headed to Los Angeles where Sifford and the other golf professionals and amateurs had formed a Black golf culture in the more welcoming West Coast where a mild climate, easier course access, numerous money tournaments, and a critical mass of playing partners facilitated professional development and a positive sense of community. Before declaring professional status, Botts entered the Montebello Open and announced his presence with a first-round 69 and finished as the low amateur at 9-under par for 54 holes.
Botts continued to show extraordinary promise against the pros when he was tied for fourth with Charlie Sifford after 2 rounds of the 1959 Southern California Open. That same year, he finished second in the 7th North-South Classic Amateur Division to 3-time champion Joe Roach. Botts played as a professional for the first time in the New York Amsterdam News-Ballantine 3-Ring Golf tournament held in Asbury Park August 1960. In his next professional event, the 1960 UGA National (Chicago), Botts finished third behind Charlie Sifford and Ted Rhodes. Botts soon became a part of the LA social scene and was reported being among those “having a ball” at the “swinging golf party” given by the Western Ave. Women. Mr. and Mrs. Joe Louis headed the guest list. Also present was Maggie Hathaway, journalist, activist, actress, golfer, and someone seldom afraid to speak truth to power. She self-admittedly identified more with Malcolm than Martin.
Botts clearly caught her attention and Hathaway became his earliest and biggest advocate on a public stage. She featured “Ray Botts” in a November 24, 1960, article in the California Eagle. It characterized Botts as putatively “our most promising young Negro golf professional” and likely to follow in the footsteps of Charles Sifford, who had paved the way for others. It is Hathaway who publicly linked Botts to Eisenhower whose love of the game, according to the story she tells inspired, Rafe to play it. In his logic, if the President played golf then why shouldn’t he. Hathaway cites many of Botts’ achievements, such as his 29 for nine holes at Langston, his victories in the UGA Nationals, and his low amateur triumph in the Montebello Open in 1959.
The Western Avenue Women golfers had already sponsored Ray in the Western Avenue Open, where he placed fifth and intended to back him in the L.A. Open but Hathaway thought he deserved a long-term commitment and “could easily become one of the top Negro golf professionals” if adequately backed financially. Brook Brookenrury of the L.A. Sentinel also identified Botts as an “up and coming pro.” Cal Jacox, hard hitting sports editor of the New Journal and Guide (Norfolk), already had Botts on his radar and would keep him there for the next 10 years. Jacox also included the first Black USGA champion William Wright, winner of the 1959 U.S. Amateur Public Links Championships, with Botts, as likely successors to Rhodes, Sifford, and Howard Wheeler, but recognized they needed sponsorship that could not be expected from the golf industry. He singled out Botts, based on the word of experts, as a sure bet for investors for he “has the talent to make the grade.” Botts had become the leading Black hope of golf at 23, and one can easily see how praise and expectation could morph into unbearable pressure.
Botts continued to play good golf and finished second to defending champion Pete Brown in the 1961 North-South Tournament. Later that spring he qualified for the United States Open but failed to make the 36-hole cut. Qualifying, especially as the only African American, was a considerable achievement, and did not unnoticed by the Washington Post’s Maury Fitzgerald, who reported that the Ray Botts listed as from Lost Angeles was a D.C. native who had taught at Langston and had caddied at area clubs. The specificity of information points to Botts as the source, making sure that the homefolks knew that he had not forgotten his local roots.
Between the two events, Rafe met with a group of potential sponsors as revealed in an open letter to the public signed by John McDaniel. The author asserted, that the meeting “marked the first time that any formal group of individuals has organized” for the purpose of supporting a young man in his efforts to become a successful professional golfer. That objective would not be possible if expense money had to be earned “scrubbing floors at night.” There was much skepticism and caution among a majority in the room as McDaniel acknowledged that Botts had yet to win a professional event but had finished high and earned money and was worthy because he followed the trail wherever it may lead when all the other Black golfers, but for Sifford, played locally. In the end, with an obvious assist from self, Botts achieved his objective and returned to Los Angeles a “happy person, knowing where most of his expense money was coming from.”
Later that year, a seismic event rocked the golf world as the Professional Golfers Association of American rescinded its infamous Caucasian Clause, which excluded Blacks and even whites from Africa as members. One must not forget that in 1948, Theodore Rhodes, William Spiller, and Madison Gunther threatened a legal challenge to the exclusionary provision but were essentially tricked by the association’s leadership to settle only to see the PGA refuse to honor the bargain. Spiller in particular was broken by the betrayal. In 1959, Jackie Robinson, of baseball fame, pressed the issue in his syndicated column for the New York Post. He championed the cause of Charlie Sifford, who, as a partial result of the pressure, was named, in 1960, to the Approved Player List of the PGA’s touring division, which entitled him to play in official PGA events. What few know is that Los Angeles Black attorney and entrepreneur Herman English performed all legal work in Sifford’s initial bid to play on the so-called Tour.
Robinson’s relentless pressure also influenced New York State Attorney General Louis Leftkowitz and his counterpart in California, Stanley Moske to threaten legal action to end the ban on Black members. When PGA President Louis Strong announced the elimination of the infamous Caucasian Clause in November 1961, he rather disingenuously claimed that it had not prevented Blacks from playing in PGA events, citing the presence of Sifford, Botts, and Richard Thomas as examples. Evidently all were “Approved Tournament Players,” but there were so many others who should have been. Membership in the organization was still another matter requiring a multi-year apprenticeship under a member or 5 years as an Approved Player.
Sifford did not gain membership until May 1966 through the latter route. Actually the first Black man to become a member under the apprenticeship provision was James R. “Jimmie” DeVoe in 1962. He had apprenticed under Harry Bassler at Fox Hills since 1955. The original Black member, Dewey Brown, regained his wrongfully stripped membership in 1965 after 31 years without it. Spiller and Rhodes were granted posthumous membership in 2009 along with John Matthew Shippen considered to be the first American-born golf professional and a participant in 5 U.S. Opens.
Unfortunately, as the PGA door opened Uncle Sam essentially closed it on Botts for two years. After his discharge from the Army in 1963, he returned to the Tour, but other promising Black golfers were garnering attention that he had monopolized virtually before his stint in the Army. In addition to Botts and Lee Elder, Jacox, identified Pete Brown and James Black as “the brightest prospects of them all.” With his victory in the Waco Turner Open of 1964, Brown a native of Mississippi, suddenly became Sifford’s likely successor. Even Sifford had not yet won a 72-hole, sanctioned Tour event. It was the biggest stage on which a Black man had ever won a professional golf tournament and made Brown a symbol of achievement that transcended sport.
Not long after Brown’s victory, Botts won the 54-hole Montebello Open over his mentor and close friend Charles Sifford. Botts attributed that win to instruction from 1961 PGA Champion Jerry Barber, who revamped his short game. If Maggie Hathaway’s description of the event is to be believed, it had all the drama of a heavyweight championship with leads exchanging hands, putts dropping from impossible distances, and spectators “running, howling, and urging Botts,” the underdog, to victory, which came in sudden death. The $2,000 first prize was the largest for Botts to date. Hathaway, who was a publicist for Botts and his sponsor–football great, actor, and activist–Jim Brown, made sure to present the victor as a winner on and off the course.
In ten years of press room interviewing Hathaway claimed never to have “seen any top or bottom professional treat the press with such warmth, respect, and courtesy.” He was above all “every inch a ‘gentleman and a scholar.’” Then she described him as “young, tall, brown, and handsome.” Moreover, she asserted that he was widely acknowledged to be “the best dressed pro,” who once astonished observers when he “showed up with one dozen pairs of cellophane wrapped golf shoes.” As effusive as her praise was it comported with others’ impressions of Botts and made him, along with his mercurial play, a fan favorite.
Botts had some near misses in 1965, losing to Bert Yancey at the Vacationland Open in a sudden death playoff. Yancey would go on to win 7 PGA Tour events from 1966 to 1972. Then there was some bad luck mixed in. At the Skyview in Asheville, Botts was 6 under par going to the 17th hole when informed that the round was cancelled and all scores were erased. To add insult to injury, his chief rivals, Black and Sifford had struggled. According to press reports, the unfortunate circumstances led the normally affable Botts to “cuss.” Botts had a way of making headlines and not always for the right reasons.
One such incident was at the 1966 Pensacola Open that the United Press International covered, with photographs capturing Bott’s playing a shot from atop the clubhouse or caddy shack roof. Another widely distributed photograph showed a scowling Botts breaking his putter at the Azalea Open in 1969. Two years after the Pensacola adventure, Botts returned to the scene and finished in eighth place, earning $2,360, in a star-studded field of current and future major champions. He was not only exciting and entertaining but he had game.
Yet in the minds of many, success could only be measured in wins. After not winning at any level in 1965 and 1966, Botts caused Jacox to ask what had happened to a player with so much promise in so short a time. Even Hathaway started to express concern about Botts as he and Pete Brown were underperforming in her eyes. As many knew, Brown was ailing physically but Botts’ drop in performance level was more mysterious. When asked to explain his current form, he attributed it to his putter, meaning the problem was most likely mental. A veteran caddie saw something more fundamental in Botts’ struggles—pressure. Many white players had industry backing or could rely on jobs at clubs. Blacks on tour had no such support.
The unnamed caddie said that Botts had as much if not more ability than many on tour. Unfortunately, he pressed so much that he could not transfer his driving range ball striking to the course. Renee Powell remembers Botts telling her that at times he became so nervous that he could not take the club back. Botts lost his tour card in 1966 and appears to have lost Jim Brown’s sponsorship as Hathaway personally and publicly requested that Eisenhower sponsor whom she believed was his former caddie. Eisenhower appeared blindsided by the request and unaware of the putative connection. It was not the first time Hathaway would make Ike uncomfortable as she had urged him to use his influence to integrate the Masters held at Augusta National Golf Club where he was its most distinguished and most influential member.
Jacox also asked questions that extended into the political arena. The refusal of tennis great Arthur Ashe to play against South Africans, made Jacox wonder if Sifford, Brown, Botts, and Black should play in events with Gary Player, who was a defender of apartheid and was on the record condoning repression and domination of the Black majority population as the only way to prevent them from “chopping off our heads.” Considering their tenuous position in golf there was no way, even if sympathetic to the plight of Black South Africans, that they would take such a step. Golf was not only their livelihood; it was the platform upon which they could represent themselves as capable of doing that which many believed impossible—shine at the highest levels of a white man’s game.
The fact that they refused a subsequent offer from Player to join him in an exhibition to raise money for the United Negro College Fund, demonstrated political awareness and indicated they picked their fights carefully. All understood that Player wanted to use them in his unofficial role as an ambassador and apologist for his racist government. Sifford asked why Player did not use his influence with the organizers of the Masters to invite Blacks. Lee Elder, however, would accept Player’s later offer to visit South Africa, ostensibly as an act of “constructive engagement” when many there and abroad supported isolation and disinvestment as the only effective means to dismantle apartheid.
Botts regained his card in the Fall of 1967, but was playing without sponsorship and practicing on public courses, mainly Griffith Park. After his fine showing in Pensacola, Botts opened with a record tying 65 at the 1969 Southern California Open (SoCal) but followed up with a 75 to finish fourth, 3 strokes ahead of all-time great Billy Casper. United Press International covered the event and the Portland Press Herald included a box reminding its readers of Botts’ thrilling loss to Yancey–further evidence of the positive impression he often left.
Botts’ reputation and spirit received a much-needed boost from Shirley Povich of the Washington Post in early 1969, when he speculated that Botts might be the “best of the colored pros” and announced that he was being backed by Berry Gordy of Motown. The tie with Motown gave Botts his own celebrity by association with that of the music label’s stars. Botts agreed with the great Jimmy Demaret that professional golf was no only a sport it was show business. The reality in 1969 was that Botts was not the best. Charlie Sifford was still the top player having won the Los Angeles Open earlier that year in a pressure-packed playoff with Harold Henning of South Africa.
“The crowd does not want to see a stoned-face golfer…I suppose that I am gifted because I can’t work up a stone face even if I am angry.” —Botts’ take on Jimmy Demaret’s golf as part show business (1968 Pensacola Open)
The racial implications were obvious nationally and internationally. Moreover, Lee Elder had won three North-South titles in four years from 1963 to 1966 and led the UGA in earnings. He finished 54th on the 1968 Tour money list far ahead of Botts at 165th. There were, including Sifford and Botts, 8 Black players on the Tour in 1969: Lee Elder, Pete Brown, Curtis Sifford, James “Junior” Walker, Nathaniel Starks, and Clifford Brown. With these numbers, there came companionship and camaraderie but also competition and contention.
In 1970, Botts was still in the conversation but barely, and even Sifford realized that the youngsters were garnering much attention, especially Pete Brown who won the Andy Williams Classic. Lee Elder was the lone Black qualifier in the 1967 U. S. Open, lost to Jack Nicklaus in a five-hole playoff in the American Classic that same year, and in 1970 appeared on the Wonderful World of Golf television series as had Sifford in 1965. Botts was mentioned along with the pack of James Black, Clifford Brown, and William Wright. Black had qualified for the U.S. Open in 1964.
Although Botts qualified for the 1970 U.S. Open along with George Johnson, Elder, Jim Dent, and Pete Brown, he was, shortly thereafter, out of touch and apparently still without sponsorship according to Hathaway. She did mention Botts in her attack on the Board of Recreation and Park Commissioners for the absence of Black golf professionals as leaseholders of the city’s public courses. Only Griffith Park, under the management of Jerry Barber, had one fulltime Black professional on staff. Botts worked there occasionally. Two years later the same situation existed and Hathaway blamed the PGA of America for blocking Black professionals’ access to leases. Botts submitted a bid for a lease in 1972 without success.
After earning only $6,324 in 1970, Botts’ slump continued in 1971 as he only earned $1,541 officially on the Tour. He was burned out and took 3 months off. He blamed excessive travel to events by car as detrimental to his performance and mental and physical health. It was self-admittedly, a penny-wise and pound-foolish practice. According to Nathaniel Starks, Botts once drove cross country to the North-South and had to be pulled from his car. In 1972, his form returned but in non-Tour events. First, he came from behind to beat his long-time rival and friend James Black in the Skyview Championship in Asheville, N.C. The next week, Botts finished second to Black in the Sixth City tournament in Cleveland. A balky putter was the difference and Black reportedly played flawless golf. The next week, Botts was in the B.C. Open, where he reportedly had more spectators pulling for him than any other player. There his putter cost him dearly as well.
Three months later Botts put on a performance for the ages in which he demonstrated both his brilliance and brittleness. He opened the Gardena Valley Open with rounds of 66-66. Then he ballooned to an 82. Seemingly out of contention, Botts fired a 62 and finished tied for second, one stroke behind the winner Bob Risch. In a round that featured 12 3s, Botts’ only mistake was a 3-putt on the 9th hole. A month later, Botts won the Laguna Seca Del Monte Hyatt Invitational worth $3,000, said to be enough for expense money for the next few months. Botts was consistently beating Pete Brown and Curtis Sifford in these events as well as a host of accomplished white Southern California pros such as Dick Lotz, Jim Wiechers, and John Jacobs to name a few. Botts, true to reputation as an intrepid traveler, won the Ontario Open in June 1973. With it came a $3,000 prize, the Peter Jackson Cup, and a growing fan base in Canada.
A month later Botts became the first Black man to capture the Southern California Professional Golfers Association Match Play Championship and its $2,300 first-place prize. He called it a “major event” and his “first big win.” Yet, it did not come without controversy. Match play is a mano-a-mano competition in which a player may or may not concede putts to his opponent. In the midst of a furious comeback by his opponent, Tommy Jacobs, Botts refused to concede several putts of less than a foot and one of no more than two inches. Then to add insult to injury, Jacobs’ comeback ended when Botts wayward shot on the last hole struck a female spectator on the head and came to rest on the green.
A disappointed, if not bitter, Jacobs complained that Rafe was “too fine a player to resort…to gamesmanship if that is what he thought it was.” Rafe said it was not about gamesmanship but a recognition that anything could happen on bumpy greens. Botts on this occasion did not appear to endear himself to the press and spectators as he reportedly dawdled, talked to himself, and fidgeted throughout the final rounds. Yet one must take into consideration that golf was Botts’ sole source of income. Winning was existential, and this victory was worth far more than the purse as it gave him an exemption into the PGA Championship, the Bob Hope Classic as well as the Los Angeles, Hawaiian, and San Diego Opens. Botts had never qualified for the PGA Championship. Maggie Hathaway agreed with Rafe and made the point that an “extra heartbeat might have made Jacobs miss.” Moreover, she maintained that “it is not safe to give a putt when one is winning.”
Now widely known as Rafe, Botts’ winning ways continued but under the auspices of the Western Tournament Golf Association. In the 10th event of the season at the Hesperia Country Club, he beat Dave Sheff in a playoff to take home $4,000. Botts had a career high fifth-place finish at the Quad Cities Open in July 1974. He earned a very tidy $4,100, and finished just one place lower than golf immortal Sam Snead. Up and coming Black pro, George Johnson, finished third. It was a remarkable result for the Black golf professional and the Los Angeles Times took note.
“I’d be happy as a pig in slop with three more rounds just like that.” —Botts after shooting an opening round 68 in the 1971 Southern Open Invitational
The next stop was the Black Masters in Detroit, which despite its name, made clear that this event was open to all. It was a not so subtle dig at The Masters in Augusta. Junior Walker won the first iteration and the 1974 edition featured a stellar line-up including Elder, Sifford, the Thorpe brothers as well as Botts. In search of money finishes wherever they may be, Rafe played in the Brazilian Open, along with Gary Player and Sam Snead. Other than the Quad Cities, Botts rarely finished in the money in 1974 and earned only $4,364 as compared to Lee Elder’s $71, 986 and a history-making invitation to the Masters by virtue of his victory in the Monsanto Open.
Unfortunately, not all in the Black golf community were pleased with Elder’s breakthrough as the changed criteria for invitation were not retroactive thus depriving two-time winners Pete Brown and Charlie Sifford eligibility. Long simmering tensions reached a boiling point as perceived resentment toward Elder led him to go public with complaints about his fellow Black golfers, especially Charles Sifford “who did not want any of the Blacks to outdo him.” Sifford especially took umbrage at references to Elder as the “Jackie Robinson of Golf,” which Sifford believed he had earned through years of struggle and triumph. Elder still held a grudge in 2019 as revealed in a lengthy Golf Digest interview. Botts, although close to Sifford, appears to have stayed clear of the infighting, at least publicly.
Botts found no more success in 1975, but that did not change his attitude toward people. Chico Renfroe of the Atlanta Daily World reported on a visit to the New Lincoln Country Club by Pete Brown, George Johnson, and Rafe, who stole the show and made the greatest impression. Renfroe maintained that Botts could (should) be a teaching pro at any posh golf club in the U.S. The author admitted that Rafe was not the best golfer of the three but agreed with Rafe’s assertion that he could teach anyone to swing a golf club in the proper manner. Renfroe likened him to the Reverend Ike the leading, Black proponent of positive thinking. At the end of the clinic, one lady praised Rafe as “a great man and a great teacher.” Rafe smiled and responded, “The Lord gave me the gift to teach and all I can do is share it with other people.” Rafe missed the cut at the Atlanta Classic and headed to the next Tour stop the Kemper Open in Chicago. He then returned to the, SoCal PGA Championship, two years earlier, the event of his greatest victory. Botts missed advancing to the final when on the last hole he hit a 1-iron tee shot into the water nearly 300 yards away.
“The Lord gave me the gift to teach, and all I can do is share it with other people.”
—Botts at a clinic for ladies at the New Lincoln Country Club (Atlanta) in 1975
The defeat seems to have convinced Rafe to try a less competitive environment abroad on the European Tour. It was the beginning of a crisscrossing of the Atlantic and globetrotting exercise that lasted 5 years and took him from Ireland to Switzerland to France to Sardinia to Tunisia to New Zealand and beyond. The experience was not without its difficulties beyond those associated with travel and performance. Two rules incidents led to negative coverage of Rafe by the local press. One featured Botts in the 1976 French Open when he claimed that a player had received assistance from a fellow competitor. Officials upheld Botts’ allegation but at least one reporter condemned the matter as a classic example of rules transgressing the spirit of the game. Five years later the Irish Times reported that Botts had been in an argument with a fellow competitor about building a stance in a bunker. The rules official concluded that no such offence had occurred but the coverage suggested that Botts was a disputatious player. Notably, Botts was alternately identified as American or as a Black American.
Hubert Kim Swan, Junior Minister of Tourism, Culture, and Sport and Chair of the Government Golf Courses in Bermuda and 3-time winner of the Bermuda Open, played with Botts in Europe and remembers him as a trailblazer and highly skilled golfer with prodigious power. Even more impressive for Swan was Botts, the man, who showed him kindness and gave him an example that remains until this day. Swan’s assessment of Botts’ power was validated by his 3rd place finish in a Long drive championship at the Kerrygold International Classic in Ireland in 1976. Peter Teravainen, former Yale Golf Captain, was Rafe’s roommate for much of his first year on the European Tour and credits Botts with teaching him valuable lessons about American racism and its impact on golf.
Botts’ golf career had become a quixotic quest with increasingly diminishing returns. In 1981 he tried unsuccessfully for a Tour card. He did qualify for the 1982 Los Angeles Open but missed the cut. In 1984 he was vying in a local Los Angeles event with a total purse of $1,400. A year later, Botts was reported to be working at Desert Falls Country Club in an unspecified role. It was a way station along the journey to the Senior PGA Tour for which he became eligible in March 1987 at the age of 50. In that first year, he earned $46,788 more than he ever won in one year on the regular Tour even factoring in inflation. It was, however, a far cry from Juan “Chi Chi” Rodriguez’s Tour leading $509,000 and even Lee Elder’s $178,000.
Botts credited “Mister 59” Al Geiberger with his return to form, and admitted he could never repay him monetarily for the hours he gave in instruction. His repayment would be in loyalty and empathy. Geiberger and his wife lost a toddler in a tragic drowning accident, which sent the couple into deep depression. Botts was one of two pros to attend Matthew’s funeral service, and he kept a photo of the boy and him wherever he traveled. That was the Rafe Botts, who had returned to his bedrock faith in 1971 after years of partying. He had become a born-again Christian and wore his religion on his sleeve and a cap that read “Praise the Lord.” The outward display of religion did not endear him to many fellow golfers and according to sportswriter Toby Smith his upbeat attitude “embarrassed” his “intense” Black comrades. Smith wrote that Botts was the nicest of all the golfers he interviewed in comparison to some who acted like they were kings or were as “impenetrable as granite.”
Botts continued to play golf professionally at home and abroad into the ‘90s. Although his success was limited, those who talked to him at length came away calling him a winner as someone who was always “smiling through trouble.” Soon Rafe found himself in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation. In 1984, the United States Golf Association, changed its rules on club faces to allow for U-grooves. In 1985 players on the Tour complained that the grooves were detracting from the skill level of the game and favored less accurate players. A 1987 survey of players resulted in 60% concluding that U-grooves enhanced spin hence control from the rough. After a series of tests, the PGA Tour voted to ban U-grooves. Karsten the manufacturers of Ping clubs along with 8 players who used the Ping Eye2 clubs sued the PGA Tour for violating antitrust laws. The court decided in favor of Ping. One can speculate that many players and the Tour itself were not pleased with those players, including Rafe, who had sided with Ping, however, the repercussions for him are unknown.
As a validation of his status as a trailblazer and international ambassador for the game, in 1988, Rafe Richard Botts was inducted into the National Black Golf Hall of Fame founded by pioneering PGA member Harold Dunovant in 1986. Harold’s son Jeff recalls Rafe as a fine gentleman and golfer and a good friend of his late father.
Rafe spent the rest of his life working in a variety of jobs at courses in the Palm Springs and Cathedral City area. In 2015, Botts wrote a golf vacation tip for “Uncharted101.Com” and elicited some revealing responses from four past contacts, one going back to 1963. They give us a small measure of the type of man he was and the impact he had:
Gini Auger wrote that Botts taught her how to play golf at Fort Ord in 1963 and while working a Taylor Made Golf tourney in 2017 she noticed that Rafe was the first winner of the event in 1972 then known as The Spaulding and played at the since closed Rancho Canada.
Paul Fisher of the New Zealand PGA, sent best wishes and noted that he remembered Botts having played on their tour many years earlier.
John Rechlin, originally from Mission Lakes at Desert Hot Springs, expressed his regrets at Rafe’s departure from their course and let him know that “things really changed after you left the course.” One must assume that the change was not positive. Then John asked to reconnect with Rafe.
Last, Tommy Thomas wrote:
“I will always have great respect and love for Rafe Botts. Rafe was a helpful friend in my professional career when we toured together in the 1970s, and he also opened his home up to me when I needed lodging during difficult times. I will always be grateful to you, and thankful for our friendship.”
Botts is survived by a son Jeremy and daughter Jessica and their mother Valerie and a daughter Lisa from his first marriage. He is also survived by a sister Thelma and brother Stanley. He is predeceased by his sisters Jean and Joyce and brothers Horace, Jr., Palmer, Carlton, Curtis, Kenneth and Joseph. The D.C. family requests that donations in his honor be made to the Langston Golf Course Boys and Girls Program. A memorial at Langston is planned for later this year (TBD).
