My Shot: Miller Barber

There's a lot to be said for taking a shag bag into an open field, alone, and learning on your own. From the time I was small through my years in the Air Force, I practiced using my own balls, and I got so much out of it. You pay attention to every shot because you don't want to walk all over picking them up. When you're retrieving the balls you have time to think about your swing, with no interruptions from some guy next to you. I highly recommend it—if you can find an open field.

By the time I signed up for lessons when I was 13, the swing I have today was already ingrained. Over the years I tried to change, but I really couldn't play any other way. Jackie Burke says my swing looks like an octopus falling out of a tree, and others say I look like a man opening an umbrella in the wind. But after I loop the club to the inside on the downswing, I look like any other good player. The downswing is all that matters.

I discovered that when you give a lesson, you sometimes have to demonstrate. With my swing, that was a challenge. I'd say, "This is how you do it when you don't do it the way I do it." There was a credibility gap there, but I got the job done.

If you don't think you can win on the PGA Tour, my advice is to not try to join the PGA Tour.

Ben Hogan told me to keep a journal of my progress. It was very important, he said, that I organize it into two sections: the keys that worked in my golf swing when I was playing well, and the things that didn't work at all—and why they didn't work. The journal took me to another level because it stopped me from wasting time. Golfers often try things in their swing a second time, knowing it didn't work the first time. They forget why it didn't work and figure it might do them some good if they just give it another chance. They're chasing their tails. Keeping a journal stops that nonsense.

Players who represented the Hogan Company in the '70s were always impressed by how much Ben knew about them. He always seemed to know how much they were practicing, what was happening in their lives and how well they were representing the company. Now it can be told: I was Ben's eyes on tour. I was his spy. I'd have meetings with him and update him on all his players. He was very hungry for information, and I gave it to him. This was very hard for me to do because these fellows, after all, were my friends.

Because I won the first Byron Nelson Golf Classic, at Preston Trail in 1968, this year they asked me to come to his tournament to celebrate the 60th anniversary of Byron's streak of winning 11 in a row. They wanted me to hit a ball off the first tee, and to do it they gave me a persimmon-headed Byron Nelson driver. I took it over to the range, and a bunch of young players swarmed around me and examined the driver like it was a dinosaur fossil. I told them, "Boys, this is what we played in my day. Go ahead and give it a try." Rory Sabbatini and several others gave it their best shots and hit it out there about 280—not bad, but they're at least 25 yards longer with titanium. "You had to play with this?" they said. "I did. So did Nicklaus, and he hit it farther than you guys with a ball that wasn't nearly as hot as these."

My parents separated when I was 3. Many years later, I was playing at Colonial when I got a message to call Mr. Miller Barber. It turned out to be my father; I thought he'd died. I learned you never close a door out of resentment. My father said he'd picked up the phone many times but couldn't summon the courage to make the call. We became good friends, and even my mother was happy that I'd finally met my father.

I played more than 600 tournaments on the Champions Tour and would have to say I got the best of it. The purses weren't quite as high during my prime years as today, but the atmosphere was tremendous. Guys like Arnold and Chi Chi, the real ticket sellers, were there to spice it up. I think the tour lacks color now. Tom Watson is a great player, but I'm not sure he moves the fan-attendance meter. I'm not sure there will even be a Champions Tour in five years. The players have got to find a way to be more entertaining, because the Champions Tour is more about show business than golf.

For years I wore a magnetic bracelet on my wrist to fight off arthritis. I didn't have arthritis when I started wearing the bracelet, and I never did get it. So the bracelet worked, right?