The Nebraska Nassau--Byron Nelson and Sam Snead, head to head in the Heartland.

You've heard of The Match and the Battle at Bighorn, but have you ever heard of the Nebraska Nassau? Well, that's not its real name--there wasn't one--but if televised golf were a thing back in the 1940s, that would have been an excellent tag for it. As newspapers and radios across the country buzzed with reports of massive German surrenders and the heroic advance of the 3rd Infantry and 101st Airborne divisions on Berchtesgaden, a different kind of showdown was about to take place in America's heartland on the afternoon of May 2, 1945, and it showcased two of the hottest players in professional golf.

The best-ball match was sponsored by the Omaha Jaycees and featured the renowned Gold Dust Twins, Byron Nelson and Harold "Jug" McSpaden, against two of the tour's longest hitters, Sam Snead and Jimmy Thompson. Nelson and McSpaden had been the tour's premiere players in 1944, a year in which they combined for eleven wins during an abbreviated 23-event schedule, and finished 1-2 on six occasions. Snead was enjoying his first full year back on the tournament grind after a two-year stint in the U.S. Navy. He won twice the season following his medical discharge in September, and had tacked on four wins and a runner-up finish so far in '45. His teammate, the Scottish-born Jimmy Thompson, had joined the match after 1941 Masters and U.S. Open champion Craig Wood was unable to play. Thompson's last win was the 1938 Los Angeles Open, but he still had the reputation of being one of the longest ball-strikers in the game.

The easy-going, straight-shooting Nelson was coming off a dominating, nine-stroke victory over Sam Byrd in Atlanta--his 72-hole total of 263 made even the legendary Bobby Jones sit up and take notice. The triumph was his seventh of the year, and the fifth in what would become a record-setting streak of eleven consecutive wins later that summer. After collecting seven wins, five runner-up finishes, and $21,000--mostly in war bonds--Nelson sat atop the money list for the year. With four wins of his own, Snead was in second with $16,861, while McSpaden's steady play put him at third with $12,264. Thompson, who had gotten out of the Coast Guard only two months before, was itching for an opportunity to get back into competition. They were all accomplished golfers, but spotlight was on the anticipated clash between Lord Byron and The Slammer.

There was a lot of talk about the Nelson-Snead rivalry, much of it stoked by PGA Tournament Director Fred Corcoran. While Nelson had more wins and won more money, Corcoran made sure to point out to the media that Snead was not far behind. Snead had almost as many wins as Nelson since rejoining the tour and had done it with a bad back. But Nelson was more of a competitor than most people--including Corcoran--gave him credit for. The only thing that he hated worse than hitting a bad shot was losing a tournament. He was even dissatisfied with his record-setting win in Atlanta, because he bogeyed the final hole. Every time he played, he wanted to set a record. His philosophy echoed that of boxing champ Joe Louis, who said "To be the best, you've got to beat the best.” The Omaha Jaycees planned to award $100 in war bonds to the winner of their match, but for Nelson, the biggest prize at stake was pride.

The match took place at the historic Omaha Field Club (now known as the Field Club of Omaha), the course where Marvin "Bud" Ward defeated Pat Abbott for the U.S. Amateur Championship in 1941. The 6,745 yard par-72 layout was known for its tight fairways, slick greens, and a deceptive variety of woods, hills, and valleys. Its longest hole was the 17th, a 622 yard bear of a par-5 that club members called "Old Mose," but with the nines reversed for this week’s competition, it was being played as the 8th. Adding to the uniquness of the course was a double-tracked railroad--the Omaha Belt Line--which traversed several of the holes on both sides--a detail that Snead remembered not-so-fondly from his last round there in 1940.

It was a course that distinctly favored the draw. The worst a hook could get you was a trip into the rough on most holes; however, a slice would flirt with the out-of-bounds markers on the entire second nine. While Snead was certainly a fader of the ball--and sometimes had a tendency to be wild off the tee--the narrowness of the fairways favored Nelson, who hit it so straight that Fred Corcoran once said he could "play a ball up Times Square and just use the sidewalks."

It was not a day that was meant for golf. Strong winds out of the north, sometimes gusting to over forty miles per hour, blew balls off course, and scattered showers dampened the fairways, making the course play even longer than its measured distance. At one point there was even pebble-sized hail! Even so, a crowd of about 1,500 paid $1.20 apiece to brave the elements that unseasonably cool Wednesday afternoon to watch the golfing greats square off.

Nelson got off to a poor start with a bogey at the 1st, but evened the match with a par at the 5th, a 450 yard par-4, when Snead took bogey. Nelson took a 1-up lead with a birdie at the short par-4 7th and appeared to be in the drivers seat on the 8th when Snead hit his drive into a clump of trees on the monster par-5, but Snead battled back. After hitting his recovery shot into the fairway, he hit what many witnesses felt was the shot of the day when he stroked a perfect 5-wood shot that sailed 200 yards and settled 20 feet from the hole. He two putted from there to halve the hole with a par.

After averting disaster at the 8th, Snead put his landed his approach at the 431-yard 9th to within six feet and drained the putt for a birdie to square the match after Nelson, who was over the back of the green in two, watched his birdie chip bounce in and out of the hole. After making the turn at even par, both men birdied the short par-5 12th after reaching the green in two. From there, they matched one another par for par and were all square at1-under par as they walked to the 18th tee.

Playing 431 yards into the wind to a well-bunkered green, and with out-of-bounds looming on the right, the challenging par-4 18th was baring its teeth that afternoon. During his practice round the day before, Snead had struggled, sending four drives sailing out-of-bounds, and It was uncertain whether that if that might have been lingering in his mind as he finished his pre-shot routine. With a stiff wind blowing directly in his face, Snead approached the tee and pushed his first, then a second, drive beyond the white stakes. His third attempt came to rest at the edge of a group of trees, but The Slammer had reached his limit. Frustrated, he picked up his ball and conceded the hole. Nelson played the final hole conservatively, ultimately finishing with a bogey for an even-par 72 and a 1-up victory over Snead. Although Nelson had carried his team throughout the day, McSpaden made his lone contribution of the day with a par four on the 18th to give Nelson-McSpaden the 1-up win. Thompson had one final chance to halve the match with a four-foot putt for par but he couldn't coax it in.

Lost in the clamor of V-E Day celebrations, the Nebraska Nassau faded from view, as did a similar stroke-play match won by Nelson in Tulsa the following week. Snead and Nelson soon turned their attention to the "World Championship Match," a two-day, 72-hole affair organized by Fred Corcoran at the end of May that would, in essence, decide the champion of the PGA's winter season. In that meet, Snead took the 36-hole stroke play, beating Nelson by a single stroke at Fresh Meadows Country Club on Long Island, but Nelson came back the next day to beat Snead 4 & 3 in the match play frame at Essex Country Club in West Orange, New Jersey. The match was declared a tie, but many sportswriters considered Nelson the winner, since his stroke play total was three better than Snead. In retrospect, there was another tie-breaker, but it had already been played.

In reality, though, Nelson didn't need the tie-breaker. Taking nothing away from Sam Snead, Nelson not only established himself as the dominant player on tour that summer but cemented his legacy for all time. He continued on his hot streak after the tour resumed its schedule in June and extended his streak to eleven wins, one of which included the PGA Championship. By the end of 1945, he racked up eighteen total wins, a record that may never be equaled. He also averaged a then-record 68.33 strokes per round, which stayed on the books until Tiger Woods managed 68.17 while winning three majors in 2000.

There are still folks who debate Byron Nelson's feats. They argue that many of the PGA's top golfers were still serving in the military, or that the PGA Tour was smaller in 1945 with fewer tournaments and less competitive fields. However, those critics tend to overlook one critical fact: Byron Nelson single-handed Lu carried the PGA through World War II on his back. He was more than just a player. He was the face of the organization. Tournament sponsors sought him out for public appearances; Wheaties wanted his picture on their cereal boxes. He didn't need to win Fred Corcoran's "World Championship" match for self-validation--or the Nebraska Nassau for that matter.

Nelson’s influence and contributions to the sport during a challenging era remain undeniable. He helped pioneer of the modern golf swing as club makers transitioned from wooden shafts to steel. In his brief, thirteen-year touring career, he amassed 52 wins, captured five major championships—two Masters, a US Open, and two PGA Championships—and was twice voted the AP’s Male Athlete of the Year. Even more than that, he was a humble, steady presence in the game over the years, a true gentleman who set an example for generations of young touring pros. Perhaps Ben Crenshaw said it best in James Dodson's American Triumvirate, "Byron's greatest legacy was the sense of integrity and friendship he passed along to everyone he met, tour player and average golfer alike--a love of the game that transcends all else. People couldn't take their eyes off Ben Hogan at play, and Sam (Snead) made golf such a warm and appealing game to watch. But Byron made it a game of enduring friendships, and that's something everyone who loves the game understands."

The PGA Tour still honors that remarkable legacy through the CJ Cup Byron Nelson, a tournament that has raised over $190 million for the Momentous Institute, an organization dedicated to supporting the mental health of children, their families, and the communities in which they live. Today, few people remember the Nebraska Nassau. I would daresay that no one outside of Omaha does. The Field Club of Omaha still serves the same Midtown neighborhood it has since 1901, but the course played by Nelson and Snead in 1945 no longer exists. Old Mose has been declawed, the victim of re-routing after the construction of the city’s VA Hospital, and the course now plays to a par 67. But in a world where memories fade and landscapes change, the spirit of Byron Nelson endures, woven into the fabric of the PGA Tour and the lives it touches. While the physical traces of the Nebraska Nassau may have vanished, the impact of Nelson’s legacy remains vibrant and alive, a reminder that true greatness transcends time and place, resonating through acts of kindness and service to community.

The tagline of the Field Club of Omaha reads: "Where Tradition Meets Modern." Byron Nelson would approve. For as we honor the past, we also pave the way for a brighter future, ensuring that the values he embodied continue to inspire generations to come.

Honorary Captains (L-R) Byron Nelson, Gene Sarazen, and Sam Snead prepare to tee off to open the 1999 Masters