My Shot: Tony Jacklin

Age 58,
Two-time major winner

I'm always moved when they play "God Save the Queen," "The Star-Spangled Banner" and "Scotland the Brave" at the Ryder Cup. But if I were an American and wanted to soften up the opposition, I'd play "God Bless America" at the opening ceremony. There wouldn't be a dry eye in the house, because that song is not about America — it's about all the things freedom-loving people hold dear.

My golf dreams are appalling. My ball is always in a sink, under a bureau or against a wall where I can't get at it. Or I'm forced to hit my ball through a sliding-glass door that is barely open. Last week I dreamed I was playing through a sea of snakes, with a giant mother python guarding them. Just once I'd like to dream of winning a tournament or something.

I was at the Western Open in 1975 when Lee Trevino, Jerry Heard and Bobby Nichols were hit by lightning. I was holding my finish with an 8-iron when the bolt hit. It knocked the club out of my hands and sent it flying 30 feet. I was immediately aware of a burning taste in my mouth. Then another bolt hit and knocked Bobby down. When he got up, he had a look of terror on his face I've never forgotten. I was lucky. Other than a ringing in my ears that persisted for a long time, I was fine. But it scared me. We don't have much lightning in England.

In the Ryder Cup, one bad apple can spoil the whole barrel. In 1979 at The Greenbrier, we had a player who sabotaged any chance of our team putting up a fight. This guy didn't show up for team meetings, he disrespected the team captains, didn't stand up for the national anthems, didn't wear the right uniforms and wouldn't help his partners. He signed the menu at the team dinner, and then was told the menu was for a priest. He asked for the menu back and added, "son of a bitch" after his name. The point is, the Ryder Cup is all about being a team, and this fellow only cared about himself.

When I was captain, the one thing I sought from my players was respect. Love was optional.

In 1985, Nick Faldo was going through a divorce. When the Ryder Cup got under way, he didn't look comfortable and lost his morning foursomes match. I took him aside after that and said, "Nick, I've got a job to do. Do I send you out this afternoon, or do I sit you down?" Nick told me, very quietly, "Sit me down." It took enormous courage and humility for Nick to put himself aside. Now there is a team player.

As a young man, I couldn't accept the fact that golf is not a fair game. The game was my world, and if I didn't putt well, the injustice of it all would devour me. There were occasions during a round when I'd have to seek out one of those portable bathrooms and try to calm down.

There's a notion that the captains in the Ryder Cup make all the money. If that's the case, I'm still waiting.

Winning the 1969 British Open and the 1970 U.S. Open was an asset to me as Ryder Cup captain. The players couldn't look at me and say, "What the hell did this guy ever do?"

Some guys on the senior tour work out all the time. It doesn't seem to make them any happier. Me, I like good scotch, a nice bottle of wine, good food and having friends around. You can't live forever, and you can't take it with you.

You can't understand the anguish of losing a spouse until it happens to you. After my first wife, Vivien, died suddenly of a brain hemorrhage in 1988, I lost my will to live. I contemplated doing something very terrible to myself. Eventually I recovered, but a couple of years ago, I saw Arnold Palmer at Pebble Beach soon after he lost Winnie. His first words to me were, "I never knew what you went through." I said, "How the hell could you?"

The American players running onto the 17th green at Brookline in 1999 was pure exuberance. For the Europeans to call it anything else is sour grapes.

Paul Azinger was a constant thorn in my side. He was the best American player in my years as captain. Match play is in this man's blood. The better the player Azinger went up against, the better he played. Even Seve Ballesteros, who could intimidate almost anyone, couldn't faze Paul.

The state of Seve's game cuts me deep. He proves my theory that if you didn't take lessons as a child, you should avoid them as an adult.

A lot of young players fantasize about going up against Tiger Woods in the deciding singles match of a Ryder Cup. A kid like Sergio Garcia may say, "Yeah, let me at him!" But when it happens, it will be like those 18-year-old kids who couldn't wait to get into battle in World War II. They'll find it isn't as romantic as they thought it would be. It will, in fact, be the most terrifying moment of their careers.

The generation in England that went through World War II was a tough lot. They were big on discipline. My father was typical — he didn't hesitate taking the razor strop to me. Even in school they'd cane your hands. When I became a father, I was softer. But one day, my eldest son, Bradley, said something very insolent to his mother, and instinctively I slapped him. He didn't come out of his room for 24 hours, and I wondered if I'd done the right thing. Well, Bradley never got out of line again, so the punishment turned out to be appropriate. It was the only time I ever was physical with one of my kids, and luckily it was the right decision.