My Shot: Moe Norman

Even in my late teens and early 20s, when I got good enough to play in tournaments, I slept in bunkers and hitchhiked to get from one place to the next. Some of the golfers laughed like hell at me and teased me constantly—"Where you sleeping tonight, Moe?" Nobody came to my rescue until I was 26. I really resented that.

In the 1950s there was no money to be made playing professionally in Canada. I stayed an amateur, working as a pin-setter in a bowling alley all winter so I could play golf all summer. This was before they had machines that set the pins. That was hard work, but, boy, was I good at it. I was able to work four lanes at once because they played with five pins, not 10. I hopped from one lane to the next like a bumblebee. No one was faster or better than me.

In the 1980s and early '90s I went through another hard time. The Canadian tour lost its sponsor, and for a while I had to sleep in my car. Then I went to the PGA Merchandise Show in Orlando. I was at the Titleist booth when Mr. [Wally] Uihlein, the CEO, walked up to me. "I see you're still wearing our visor and wear our FootJoy shoes," he said. "You've played our ball for 40 years. Has anyone done anything for you?" I told him nobody had done anything, and that I'd never asked. Mr. Uihlein said, "Give me your hand." He gave me a handshake and said, "You're going to get $5,000 a month from us for the rest of your life." That was a big help. Between that and the start of the Natural Golf teaching program, I opened my first bank account.

When money was dear, I'd play with the same ball until it wore out. A balata-covered wound ball had exactly five rounds in it before it got knocked out of round or got too soft. Then it was time to search the bushes for lost balls and root out a new one.

I never got married. In fact, I went on only three dates. If I'd gotten married, it wouldn't have been fair to a wife because of my life as a golfer. I'd wind up divorced, and then she'd get everything. I think that's how it works, judging by what's happened to some friends of mine. I'm very happy being alone.

What would I do if I won the lottery and $20 million? Give it away, probably to one of my relatives, even though they never cared enough about me to come and watch me play golf.

I don't like these super-long par 3s where average golfers need a wood to reach them. They're terrible—you hit 15 or more wood shots on the other holes already; that's enough. On the other hand, I don't like par 4s where guys hit irons off the tee. What are these architects thinking about? They're designing courses upside down. They think they're smart, but they're just the opposite.

Backing the ball up on the green may look impressive, but it's no way to play golf, because you can't control it. Every shot you hit should bounce forward after it lands. If the flagstick is just over a bunker, you get it close by hitting the ball higher, not by backing it up. With these 60-degree wedges, hitting it high is easy.

I don't understand why anyone would go to the gym to get in shape to play golf. If you hit 600 balls a day, walk a lot and watch your diet, you'll get in shape. I don't think Sam Snead ever went to the gym, and nobody today is in better shape than he was. Hitting balls is the best workout there is.

I don't believe in taking much of a divot, especially with the longer irons. You want to barely comb the grass through impact, as though you were hitting a ball off the top of somebody's crew cut. It's the only way to catch the ball on the second groove up from the bottom of the clubface. That's where you want to make contact—on the second groove.

I never saw a doctor until I was 68. It's because I never felt sick. Never had a headache, earache or toothache, and never had a cold. Then one day I had a heart attack. Now I see the doctor every day. All he did was make me give up all the foods I like, meaning liver and onions, hamburgers, hot dogs, chocolate and barbecue potato chips, all that stuff. He made me switch from regular Coke—I drank 15 cans a day on average—to caffeine-free Diet Coke. I've lost 45 pounds, gone from a 42-inch waist to 37. But I sure miss that food.

I was in the clubhouse at Rockway Golf Course, and I overheard a kid telling another kid that he'd left his wedge at another course and that no one had turned it in. I went to my car and got him one, and he was so happy he jumped all over me. I do this often, especially with kids you can tell are a bit poor and don't get these things from their parents. Very often they start crying, they're so happy.

Crouching down to read a putt is a waste of time. So is plumb-bobbing. You can see all you need standing behind the ball and can feel the slope through your feet when you stand over the ball.

Going through the ball, I feel my right hand is a claw. No hinging of my right wrist at all. I just gather the ball up. No supination or pronation. On the follow-through I shake hands with the flagstick.