"You pass the genes on," says his mother, Sharon, by phone from South Africa. "I've got Irish blood in me, and I've got a very, very short fuse. And I also speak my mind, and it gets me into trouble as well. You get to a boiling point, and you explode, and obviously you regret it afterward. But most people appreciate me for being straightforward. I'm not one of these mundane, boring people, and neither is my son. I've always let him be himself."
Playing in the British Open is like reading American history at Independence Hall or studying opera at La Scala. It’s golf at its most simple, its most pure, its most magnificent. JACK WHITAKER