GARY MCCORD

My career started slowly and then tapered off.

He's in the mold of a Tom Watson, in that he'll hit the ball in the trees and undaunted go it there, flail it out and make something out of it.

I hate to repeat lines, to say the same damned thing. I try to rewrite cliches and make what I say sound fresh.

Think of golf as chess. You have to think two or three moves ahead every time you hit the ball. Over every shot, you should be thinking, 'Where do I need to put this ball in order to make my next shot as easy as possible.

Many years ago, in the throes of my struggles on the PGA Tour, I had difficulty even getting into pro-ams. I needed money, so I put together a 45-minute magic show I'd perform at corporate events surrounding the tournament.

The first time I played a PGA Tour event at Tucson was 1975. I came off the course on Sunday feeling very good about myself. I'd finished at even par, and I knew I could play even better if I worked at it.

My interest in magic was kindled by Steve Martin, the comedian I'd gone to high school with.

I don't putt face-on exclusively, but in the back on my mind I'm haunted by the notion that I'm sure it's the best way to putt.

He's got an overall flair for the game. It looks to me like he really loves what he does and he can't wait to get up in the morning, go hit some balls and go play.

I'm nearsighted in my right eye, have glaucoma in my left, and the nerves in my hands are on Medicare. Basically, I'm on the wrong end of a short sale.

He hits the ball a long way and he knows how to win.

The first time I played a PGA Tour event at Tucson was 1975. I came off the course on Sunday feeling very good about myself. I'd finished at even par, and I knew I could play even better if I worked at it.

My interest in magic was kindled by Steve Martin, the comedian I'd gone to high school with.

He's got an overall flair for the game. It looks to me like he really loves what he does and he can't wait to get up in the morning, go hit some balls and go play.

Golfers don't scream. Golfers just adjust the pleats in their pants and go from there. That's about as antagonistic as we get.

I don't putt face-on exclusively, but in the back on my mind I'm haunted by the notion that I'm sure it's the best way to putt.

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.

He's a threat to win until his brain turns to tapioca.

I made nothing happen very slowly.

If you are going to make a change, don't go halfway. Make it with conviction and stick with your new idea. Ignore the scoffers. Remember, it is a law of nature that if something is different you're going to be taunted, jeered, and told the world is flat. Let the doubters fall off the edge.

I'm nearsighted in my right eye, have glaucoma in my left, and the nerves in my hands are on Medicare. Basically, I'm on the wrong end of a short sale.

I've forgotten more about bad putting than all the lousy putters in the firmament combined. My mind has been twisted into an incurable, disturbing venue of bad speed and inadequate line. I just want to go out and not feel like I'm putting a Rubik's Cube with a flimsy piece of rope.

Many years ago, in the throes of my struggles on the PGA Tour, I had difficulty even getting into pro-ams. I needed money, so I put together a 45-minute magic show I'd perform at corporate events surrounding the tournament.

I hate to repeat lines, to say the same damned thing. I try to rewrite cliches and make what I say sound fresh.

Think of golf as chess. You have to think two or three moves ahead every time you hit the ball. Over every shot, you should be thinking, 'Where do I need to put this ball in order to make my next shot as easy as possible.

My career started slowly and then tapered off.

He's in the mold of a Tom Watson, in that he'll hit the ball in the trees and undaunted go it there, flail it out and make something out of it.