The golf ball has no sense at all, which is why it has to be given stern lectures constantly, especially during the act of putting.
You must remind yourself at all times that the golf ball is nothing. It's an object. It's something to be swatted and sometimes lost and not even looked for.
I haven't looked for a golf ball since mulligans were free, which was a law I passed in 1995.
If I'm not driving the golf ball, now I can rely on something else to really get me through. It took me a while to get my game to that position, but I feel like I'm comfortable doing that now.
I can't hit a ball more than 200 yards. I have no butt. You need a butt if you're going to hit a golf ball.
Outside the golf course, I feel the pressure, and I feel what everybody else is feeling. But on the golf course, it's just the golf ball and clubs. And when I have that, it just puts a lot of pressure off of me. It just makes me very calm looking at it, yeah.
Today, at 35, I can throw a small football close to 80 yards - and straighter than I can hit a golf ball.
Personally, I belong to the speedy school of golf. If it were left up to me, I would introduce a new rule that said every golf ball has to stay in motion from the moment it leaves the tee to the moment it plops into the hole, thus obliging each player to run along after his ball and give it another whack before it stops rolling.
My grandpa was the one; he started taking up golf when I was about two and introduced me to the game as far as just taking me to the driving range where I grew up playing. That was really all he had to do was let me hit a golf ball and kind of fell in love with it from there. He didn't really have to teach me a whole lot or anything.
Sometimes in New York, you're walking down the street and you realize there's a girl walking in front of you whose thighs you could hit a golf ball through, and maybe that makes you depressed.
You're the only one in control over your golf ball. It's not like tennis: you're hitting a shot and somebody's hitting it back at you.
When I'm swinging well, nobody hits the golf ball any better than I do.
The competition I played against was fantastic, but golf is a different game now. The courses have shrunk because the equipment has gotten better. They're hitting the ball 10 to 15 percent farther because of the changes in the golf ball.
Golf balls are sweet: dimpled and sometimes even smiling.
In Valdosta, Ga., during a mini-tour event, a player named James Black bet me $20 he could put five golf balls in his mouth and then close his mouth all the way. I tried it but could get only two in there.
For all the fun, don't forget: I always knew when to put my golf balls down and practice.
I wouldn't have raced a horse. But you'll then throw back at me that Jesse Owens raced against a horse, and he's one of my heroes, so I'm not going to say it was a silly stunt. I know too much about horses. They're highly unreliable, and they've got brains the size of golf balls.
It's hard to believe a kid hitting golf balls in the cow pastures of New Mexico could have accomplished what I have accomplished.
You know, when I was a young boy I used to play baseball in my back yard or in the street with my brothers or the neighborhood kids. We used broken bats and plastic golf balls and played for hours and hours.
I get in my golf cart with my dogs, I have five dogs.
