Unfortunately, the suit is so stiff, I can't do this with two hands, but I'm going to try a little sand-trap shot here.
The pressure makes me more intent about each shot. Pressure on the last few holes makes me play better.
If I had cleared the trees and drove the green, it would've been a great shot.
Every golfer can expect to have four bad shots in a round and when you do, just put them out of your mind. This, of course is hard to do when you've had them and you're not even off the first tee.
Trouble shots are surprisingly easy if you activate your imagination. You simply must be able to imagine exactly what flight the ball will take before you can play any shot well.
I always think before an important shot: What is the worst that can happen on this shot? I can whiff it, shank it, or hit it out-of-bounds. But even if one of those bad things happens, I've got a little money in the bank, my wife still loves me, and my dog won't bite me when I come home.
I can honestly say in my entire career, I've never gone around a golf course and not mis-hit a shot, but today I never missed a shot. I hit every driver perfect, every iron perfect. I'm in awe of myself.
The thing I was most proud of about today's round was that on this course everybody is going to make mistakes, but sometimes it's hard to forget about it and let it go. After I made a double on 1, I was able to be patient and let it go and came back with birdies on 3 and 5. When I bogeyed 6, I was able to let it go and come back with a birdie on 8. I was able to let go of some bad shots and forget about it and move on.
If I've got a swing, I've got a shot.
I am no big shot. I am not anybody's boss. I want to be everybody's servant.
I mean, I can actually say goodbye to the game of golf, never hit another golf shot the rest of my life and I'd be happy because I can get back in life without any rotation.
Listen, my friend, there are two races of beings. The masses teeming and happy - common clay, if you like - eating, breeding, working, counting their pennies; people who just live; ordinary people; people you can't imagine dead. And then there are the others - the noble ones, the heroes. The ones you can quite well imagine lying shot, pale and tragic; one minute triumphant with a guard of honor, and the next being marched away between two gendarmes
Are you placing enough interesting, freakish, long shot, weirdo bets?
While my friend was my friend, he flattered me, and I never heard the truth from him. When he became my enemy, he shot it to me on a poisoned arrow.
Don't let the bad shots get to you. Don't let yourself become angry. The true scramblers are thick-skinned. And they always beat the whiners.
It is more satisfying to be a bad player at golf. The worse you play, the better you remember the occasional good shot.
Does Grandpa love to baby-sit his grandchildren? Are you kidding? By day he is too busy taking hormone shots at the doctor's or chip shots on the golf course. At night he and Grandma are too busy doing the cha-cha.
Casual drug users should be taken out and shot.
Sometimes I screw up in the game, I miss a shot or I miss a rebound, and I fight myself. I am like, 'Why I miss that shot? Come on, what are you doing?' I am fighting myself.
If they (the young pilots) are on land, they would be bombed down, and if they are in the air, they would be shot down. That's sad...Too sad...To let the young men die beautifully, that's what Tokko is. To give beautiful death, that's called sympathy.
I think that the Iraqi ground defenses shot down dozens of missiles. We are in the process of counting all these missiles quickly
A small number of peasants - brave peasants - shot down two Apaches
I'm going to be working on my shot. Working on extending my range. Keep working on everything, and really studying the game.
You have to make shots to win basketball games and we didn't do that. You also have to get back on defense, so it was a double-whammy.
A hook shot kisses the rim and hangs there, helplessly, but doesn't drop and for once our gangly starting center boxes out his man and times his jump perfectly, gathering the orange leather/from the air like a cherished possession.
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