Yet hardly any college program wanted Varner as a junior. In the summer he would pay $100 to play unlimited golf, Monday-Friday, at Gastonia (N.C.) Municipal. Didn’t matter with whom: his father, classmates, random folks. McPhaul remembers seeing a 15-year-old Varner for the first time at the North Carolina Junior. Harold wore black high-top shoes, unlaced. He stood barely taller than his golf bag. And he had this immature swing, a steep, inside-out move that produced a sweeping hook that ran forever.