THEY CALL ME SUPERMEX

Mexican-American golf star Trevino starts off this autobiography with his only really dramatic moment: in 1975 he was struck by lightning, barely survived, and suffered back trouble before making a '77 comeback. As for the rest, it's a chatty, low-key, rags-to-riches story--blandly spiced with jokes and anecdotes. Illegitimate, raised by his mother and his farmer/gravedigger grandfather (home was a four-room shack near the cemetery), young Lee was bright but hated school, preferring to hang around Dallas' DAC Country Club: caddying, playing in back of the caddie shed. (""Jack Grout taught Nicklaus how to play. Stan Thirsk taught Watson how to play. I taught me how to play."") As a teenager he worked at a driving range, then joined the Marines (and their golf team); back in Texas, he turned pro, played regularly at Tenison Park, sold Christmas trees, took on all sorts of gimmick bets and matches to make a living. But finally, with a couple of monied supporters and encouragement from second-wife Claudia (""Clyde""), he made it to the US Open--winning $6000 in 1967 and beating out Jack Nicklaus for first place in '68. Other titles and big-money endorsements soon followed (a few TV commercial-making anecdotes). So did some problems--with the Masters (refusing to play in 1970-71 ""was the greatest mistake I've made in my career""), with heavy drinking, with finances. Still, everything here is delivered in an easygoing, off-the-cuff style; and, with lots of hole-by-hole memories and golf-world digressions (on the road, on caddies, on ""the five greatest golfers I've ever seen""), this is pleasant, solid reading for Trevino fans and other followers of tournament play.