My boring, mundane, diligent kind of golf works sometimes. Actually, it works all the time. And sometimes, on the greatest stages, it really does flourish.
I have no superstitions. I don't have to have a Sunday outfit. I don't have socks or underwear I have to wear.
I don't hit it very far; I don't overpower a golf course, but I think I'm a pretty decent putter. At Augusta National, putting is premium.
These guys that take a shower, grab a cup of coffee, and go straight to the tee? That's not the way to do it. When you warm up, hit 20 to 25 wedges, a few middle irons, and 10 to 15 3-woods and drivers. If you're going to putt, give yourself 10 minutes.
I'm kind of a grinder. I'm a Cinderella, an underdog story who fights.
I don't hit it as far as a lot of guys do, so I have to be in the right spot in the fairway to score, and that means driving it well. The two biggest keys for me are to make a good transition and to keep my hands ahead of the clubhead through impact. I want to feel as if my swing is two swings: one going back and another coming down.
