A Quote by Lee Trevino

If God wanted you to putt cross-handed, he would have made your left arm longer. — © Lee Trevino
If God wanted you to putt cross-handed, he would have made your left arm longer.
If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say in a pleasant and hopeful voice, "Well this isn't too bad, I don't have a left arm anymore but at least nobody will ever ask me if I'm left-handed or right-handed," but most of us would say something more along the lines of, "Aaaaaa! My arm! My arm!"
The basic philosophy behind [switch putting] is you always want a hook putt. So for a left-to-right breaking putt, you're going to want to hit it left-handed and vice versa.
My Daddy was left-handed, and I was left-handed when I was little. In fact, I was left-handed all the way to high school. Then I switched over to right-handed cause I wanted to play shortstop.
You know, the same percentage of people are gay and lesbian as are left-handed. Let's try to figure that out. How can it be that a left-handed person can get married to another left-handed person. Left-handed people can do anything they want. . . . I say, give homosexuals the same rights we give left-handed people.
Nobody can make a putt that breaks to the right. It's unnatural. Unless you're left-handed, of course. Standing over a putt that breaks to the right can actually make you dizzy. I've long thought that right-breaking putts are a major contributor to mental and physical ill health.
I remember watching Tiger make the putt in '08. I was standing by a tree that's no longer there, it got taken down by the storm. I watched that putt live.
I have my name Cory on my left arm, and I have my mom's name on my right with a cross. She passed away while I was still in high school, so I got that on my right arm.
Two and a half thousand left-handed people are killed every year using things made for right-handed people.
I didn't miss the putt. I made the putt. The ball missed the hole.
Oh...my...god,"Drew whimpered."Who..." Anubis ignored her (bless him for that) and held out his elbow for me - a sweet old-fashioned gesture. " May I have this dance?" "I suppose," I said,as non committally as I could. I looped my arm through his, and we left the Plastic Bags behind us, all of them muttering,"Oh my god! Oh my god!" No ,actually, I wanted to say. He's my amazingly hot boy god. Find your own.
Oh, God, help me! And I walked faster, my thoughts pursuing me, and I began to run, my frozen shoes squealing like mice, but running didn't help, the thoughts to the left and right and behind me. But as I ran, The Arm, that good left arm, took hold of the situation and spoke soothingly: ease up, Kid, it's loneliness, you're all alone in the world; your father, your mother, your faith, they can't help you, nobody helps anybody, you only help yourself, and that's why I'm here, because we are inseperable, and we'll take care of everything.
My brother was a left-hander. When I was young, my father would say take your brother's gloves and pads and play, so I picked up the bat left-handed.
I never pray to God to make a putt. I pray to God to help me react good if I miss a putt.
Sending money to Washington to have it administered and sent back is like getting a blood transfusion from your right arm to your left arm with a leaky valve.
I scan the room. Catherine is writing quickly, her light brown hair falling over her face. She is left-handed, and because she writes in pencil her left arm is silver from wrist to elbow.
A detailed analysis of his four-putt at the 1986 Masters: I miss the putt. I miss the putt. I miss the putt. I make.
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