Whenever I played the thirteenth or fifteenth hole at Augusta, [my dad] had a habit of kneeling down, cupping his hands and yelling, “Lay up, lay up!” He was just beside himself every time I got near the water. BEN CRENSHAW
Whenever I played the thirteenth or fifteenth hole at Augusta, [my dad] had a habit of kneeling down, cupping his hands and yelling, “Lay up, lay up!” He was just beside himself every time I got near the water. BEN CRENSHAW