Gregston's sluggish tribute to golf great Ben Hogan's career is partly the fault of Hogan himself: the stony-faced introvert and golfing monomaniac was never a crowd pleaser. Even the Scots called him the ""wee ice men"" when he arrived at Carnoustie to enter--and conquer--the 1953 British Open, In the Forties and early Fifties he won too consistently to provide much drama, chalking up US Opens, US Masters, and PGA championships and going from strength to strength. Even so, Gregston's profile is unnecessarily fiat, perhaps because he dwells on such trivia as the Abercrombie & Fitch cashmere underwear that Hogan bought but didn't wear in dank chilly Scotland. Hogan's triumphs were interrupted twice--once by an army stint in World War II and once by a near-fatal auto accident in 1949. The story of the inevitable courageous comeback, though one leg was permanently damaged, gives Gregston a pivot if nothing else. After his championship year, 1953, Hogan played for another 18 years but never again won a major tournament--Palmer and Nickiaus were the coming men. Without bothering to sum up, the book just sort of stops.