I'm not a great player, but I'm a damn good one.

It's nice to walk into a club and see your picture. Then you know you've done something good.

When I hosted the dinner I served fast food hamburgers. It had nothing to do with black, white, purple, yellow, green race. it had nothing to do with Tiger or his family or his golf game.

That little boy is driving well and he's putting well. He's doing everything it takes to win. So, you know what you guys do when he gets in here? You pat him on the back and say congratulations and enjoy it and tell him not serve fried chicken next year. Got it? [...] Or collard greens or whatever the hell they serve.

I wasn't sure I'd ever win again. Every time I got close, somebody seemed to play a little better.

I never had any thought the whole week. I figured my caddie [Jerry Beard] knew the course a lot better than me, so I put out my hand and played whatever club he put in it. I'd say, "How hard do I hit it?" He'd tell me and I'd swing. The guys who come down here once a year and try to get smart with Mr. Jones' course are the dumb ones.

Everybody saying you can't do this, you can't do that. I don't know why. Guess if you listen to it, you can convince yourself of it.