A PROFESSIONAL
PLAYS IT AS IT LAYSM
y friend the Hawk and I were playing the first hole at
Prestwick in Scotland; the wind was howling out of
the left. I started an eight-iron thirty yards to windward, but
the gale caught it; I watched in dismay as the ball sailed hard
right, hit the green going sideways, and bounded off into the
cabbage. "Sonofabitch!" I turned to our caddie. "Did you see
the wind take that shot!?"
He gave that look that only Scottish caddies can give.
"Well, ye've got t' play th' wind now, don't ye?"
The professional conducts his business in the real world.
Adversity, injustice, bad hops and rotten calls, even good
breaks and lucky bounces all comprise the ground over
which the campaign must be waged. The field is level,
the professional understands, only in heaven.
STEVEN PRESSFIELD 8l