Roy:
You're the Mexican Mac O'Grady. Figure out why I'm shanking...I'm catching it on the hosel? Moving my head? I'm laying it off?
Romeo:
That, too.
Roy:
I'm pronating.
Romeo:
When you're not supinating.
Roy:
I'm clearing too early, too late. My swing feels like an unfolding chair!
Romeo:
Put your change in your left pocket. Go on, do it. Now, tie your left shoe in a double knot.
Roy:
Tie my left shoe?
Romeo:
Right now, do it! Turn the hat backwards. Turn your hat around. Do it, Roy! Take this tee and stick it behind your left ear.
Roy:
I look like a fool!
Romeo:
What do you think you look like shooting chili peppers up Lee Janzen's ass? Do it now or I'm going to quit. I swear to God I'll quit. Good. Take this ball and hit it up the fairway.
[Roy hits the ball straight]
Romeo:
You're ready.
Roy:
How'd I do that?
Romeo:
Because you're not thinking about shanking or Molly. You're not thinking. You're looking like a fool, hitting the ball pure and simple...
Roy:
Fuck you.
Romeo:
Fuck me, huh? Well, you're cured.
Roy:
That's it?
Romeo:
That's it. Your brain was getting in the way.
Roy:
That's hardly ever been the case.
Romeo:
No shit, Sherlock.
