A player asked me the other day whether he should lay up or go for the green. Without thinking, I answered the way Dad would've — not with a yes or no, but with another question: "What kind of shot are you ready to commit to?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I smiled. There he was again.

I don't think sons become their fathers. I think we become the lessons we forgot we were learning.

He never acted like he had all the answers. He had something better — steadiness. And it's amazing how quickly greatness starts looking quiet once you've watched enough of it up close.