How Old Is Lee Trevino The Golfer

So, picture this: I’m scrolling through golf clips at 2 a.m. (don’t judge, we’ve all been there), and I stumble on a grainy video from the 1970s. A stocky guy with a grin like a used car salesman steps up to a par-3, pulls out a wooden driver—yes, actual wood—and stripes the ball so pure it practically whistles. The announcer drawls, “And that’s Lee Trevino, folks.” I leaned into my screen and whispered, “How old is this legend, anyway?” Because the dude looked timeless in that clip—somewhere between “grizzled uncle” and “ageless wizard.”

Let’s get straight to the point: Lee Trevino is 84 years old as of 2023. Born on December 1, 1939, in Dallas, Texas, that makes him a proud Sagittarius—which, honestly, tracks for a guy who shot a 65 in a thunderstorm with a cigar dangling from his lips. (Side note: I checked his birthday twice because I refused to believe anyone that funny and talented could be that old. But yep, the math holds up.)

The Fast Lane to a Long Life

Here’s the wild part: Trevino didn’t just survive the tour—he thrived through multiple eras. He turned pro in 1960, won six major championships, and became a six-time PGA Tour Player of the Year. But age? That’s just a number when you’re the man who once said, “Golf is not a game of perfect.” (He’d know; he shot a 64 at age 50 in a Senior Tour event.)

Now, you might be thinking, “Wait, wasn’t he a caddie as a kid?” Yes, and that’s the part that makes his age feel both ancient and incredible. He was born in a poor, segregated neighborhood, taught himself golf by sneaking onto a local course, and by age 17, he was an assistant pro at a club in El Paso. To put that in perspective: when Trevino was a teenager, Eisenhower was president. That’s 1956, folks. (I did the math so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.)

The “Happy Hacker” Who Never Stopped

You know how some athletes get crusty with age? Not Trevino. At 84, he’s still cracking jokes about his back, his swing, and his bank account. In a 2021 interview, he quipped, “I’m so old, my first putter was a rock tied to a stick.” And he meant it—he grew up playing with a mop handle and a piece of hickory because clubs were luxury items.

Lee Trevino | Texas Golf Hall of Fame

But here’s the kicker: his body has taken a beating. He’s survived multiple back surgeries, a knee replacement, and a lightning strike in 1975 (yes, lightning—he was hit on the course and still played the next day). How does a guy that old still have that twinkle in his eye? Maybe it’s the ten buckets of coffee he drinks daily, or maybe it’s the simple truth: Lee Trevino was born to be old-school cool.

Why Does His Age Even Matter?

Because in a sport obsessed with youth—where 20-somethings launch balls 350 yards—Trevino is a reminder that staying power beats raw power. He won his last major at age 44 (the 1984 PGA Championship), but he kept playing into his 70s. In 2015, at 75, he shot a 71 on a 7,000-yard course. I can barely shoot a 71 on a mini-golf course with bumpers.

Zephaniah Trevino by selena | Tumblr

And let’s not forget the cultural impact. Trevino was one of the first Mexican-American superstars in golf, breaking barriers while dressing like a carnival barker (bold plaid pants, anyone?). He didn’t just age; he became the history of the game. Every gray hair on his head is a story about beating Jack Nicklaus, winning the U.S. Open in a playoff, or out-driving guys half his age with a swing straight out of a 1960s instruction manual.

The Verdict: 84 and Still Kicking

So, how old is Lee Trevino? Old enough to have played against Hogan, but young enough to still own a smartphone (barely—he once said he uses his phone “mostly for making bird calls”). He’s a living bridge between the hickory-stick era and the titanium-driver era. And while I’m writing this, I keep thinking: I hope I have half his energy when I’m 84. Heck, I hope I have his energy next Tuesday.

Next time you watch a grainy YouTube clip of Trevino laughing after a shanked shot, remember: you’re watching a man who’s been doing this for seven decades. He’s 84, but in golf years, that’s like being 144 in regular human years—and he’s still making birdies. Or at least, making us smile. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stretch my back after sitting too long. Trevino would probably tell me to buy a better chair and a cheaper cigar.