#I’d just finished The Namesake when I wrote this and if you’ve read it it probably shows lol

[mongooseblues]

How do you pronounce Cal's full name, Caliph?

I go back and forth between kah-LEEF or KAY-liff because I've heard it both ways. Which is correct?

Love that the betajis use his full name so much also :)

Thank you thank you!! 💕 The first is correct — kah-LEEF :) Thank you so much for asking! Also his surname is pronounced like CHAH-du’ree.

He goes by Cal (pronounced like as in Calvin) to most people, and generally thinks of himself as Cal, but Indian folks have never called him that because it’s a mispronounced abbreviation of a name they’re usually familiar with (though the spelling is unusual).

The origin of him going by Cal dates back to kindergarten. His teacher, somewhat offhandedly upon greeting him for the first time, said “Oh, we have two Cals in the class!” And he kinda stared at her for a moment and she went on. “We have one Calvin and one Caliph, two Cals!”

Cal’s full name was mispronounced throughout preschool, both by other students and the teacher, so while he was not at all conscious of his motivation for doing so, he eagerly confirmed “My name is Cal!” “Okay, you just go by Cal?” she asked, with excitement that was probably influenced by the fact that this was easier. He said yes. He was Cal from then on.

There’s a story behind his full name and its spelling. It goes back in time and into his father Rajesh’s story. Specifically it comes from an unfinished novel penned by Rajesh’s brother Siddharth before he died. Very abridged version of a very long story under the text break. (Forewarning: There are some sadnesses involved.)

The last thing Siddharth Chowdhury ever wrote was a letter to Rajesh asking him to get rid of his unfinished manuscript. To read it, and then get rid of it. Not to publish it, not to let their mother see it, “Because surely she will try, and I am not Vincent Van Gogh. This is not Starry Night, it is something shameful. It is a representation of a man’s selfish pursuit of his silly dreams. I do not know if it is any good, but if it is I do not deserve posthumous praise for something that was the death of my wife, that was the death of me.”

In Siddharth’s usual style, the novel was extremely autobiographical. In its pages Rajesh discovered quite a lot about Siddharth, including that he was gay. Rajesh had seen plenty of other signs of this and on some level he knew, but the novel was confirmation. The novel was Siddharth’s explanation that it was a major part of his life and something he couldn’t change about himself.

The last night Rajesh ever spent in Jaipur, he sat for hours in the room where he and his brother slept throughout their childhood, with a manuscript and a request to destroy it and anger and confusion and intense indecision over whether or not to honor the last thing Siddharth asked of him. With a lighter and a shaking hand, Rajesh lit the bottom corner of The Philosopher King and watched his brother’s final work begin to burn for exactly ten seconds before relenting and putting out the flame. Instead he took it with him when he estranged himself from his parents and left India for good.

Four years after Siddharth’s death, at an Asian market in Bethesda, Rajesh and Priyanka ran back into each other. They had both received their Ph.Ds and were working, Rajesh in toxicology, Priyanka beginning a career as a chemist in research and development at a pharmaceutical company she didn’t really like. Rajesh didn’t know whether to ask her for a date or set her up with an interview at the company he was working for so he went with both. Priyanka accepted the former and politely declined the latter.

It became clear to Priyanka immediately that Rajesh’s mind was clearer this time around, though it was also clear that he harbored a great sadness, and there was something about it that tugged at every last one of Priyanka’s heartstrings, even when—or maybe especially when—it wasn’t the kind of thing he seemed keen on talking about. He wasn’t a prideful person but he was satisfied in the work he was doing and considered it important. He was a hard worker in every aspect of his life. He thought quickly and made decisions slowly. It took him nearly a year to propose and when he did it came with the confessions she was waiting for, reasons his own family was not invited to attend a wedding. He told her his story only in terms of the facts, and Priyanka was grateful, like he’d given her the only key to solving his mysteries. They were married in India, in the village where Priyanka was born. 

There’s something beautiful about a sad face until you see glimpses of it in your wedding photos. Priyanka waited for Rajesh to express emotion, about the things he told her. She was patient. She romanticized his tragedies, a little bit, at first, but soon enough she started to wonder if her husband wasn’t a ticking time bomb. Or maybe something closer to a leaking battery, slowly oozing enough acid, little by little, to quietly ruin something.

Rajesh treated Priyanka with courtesy but not respect, not quite. Priyanka expected nothing different. It was the way she was raised herself, to defer to her husband, to follow his lead, for him to make their life, and her to make his life easier in return. 

When Priyanka told him she was pregnant it was June of 1985 and Rajesh simply nodded. He said nothing about it until the following day when he got home from work with a list of plans and said, “Okay, here is what we’re going to do.” He could get transferred to Baltimore, which was a better place to raise a child, so he would do that. They would buy a car, something reliable, and put a downpayment on a house, not a fixer upper, something newly constructed. They would begin a college fund. They would both get life insurance. They would hope for the best and plan for the worst.

Priyanka was five months pregnant when she found The Philosopher King, slightly singed, in the bottom of a moving box meant for the attic. It was over six hundred pages long and still unfinished and seemed to almost be three separate, messily entangled stories in one. It told Siddharth’s and Rajesh’s story in a not-very-covert manner and was set in a version of the future wherein the past had gone a different way and the Ottoman Caliphate was a major world power composed mostly of genetically enhanced people. It was revelatory and prescient and strange and profoundly emotional and very, very good.

In the least developed storyline of the three, the main character was the reigning khalifah—an honorific title that means, in literal translation from Arabic, “leader,” and refers to the leader of a Caliphate. The character was an unusually honorable man trying his best who seemed in many ways based on Rajesh (but in a much less overt way than the other character who was very clearly based on Rajesh). Perhaps some mixture of Rajesh and the Buddha. Other characters, and the text itself, referred to this character only as Caliph. An English transliteration of khalifah.

Rajesh had never mentioned anything to Priyanka about the existence of this manuscript. When he came home to find her reading it he was angry, but not at her. He simply took it from her hands and left the room. He didn’t blame her for reading it, but it occurred to him that he violated Siddharth’s last wish and this is what happened — spilled secrets. Siddharth’s shame and in many ways also his own.

One Sunday afternoon a few weeks later, Rajesh did, at last, destroy the manuscript as he made the inaugural fire in the fireplace of their new home. He didn’t expect to regret it immediately. He didn’t expect to be sobbing when Priyanka returned from an errand. 

But there was comfort and closeness that came from it and he opened up to Priyanka in a way he never had before, in a way he had never opened up to anyone before. He mourned for Siddharth’s manuscript in a way he couldn’t quite mourn for Siddharth. And his relationship with Priyanka had never been closer or better. It was a shining moment born from tragedy. It was an affirmation of Priyanka’s faith in her husband. It was Rajesh finally exhaling the breath he’d been holding for he wouldn’t even know how long.

On February 10th, 1986, in a labor and delivery room at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, a teary-eyed Rajesh looked from his newborn son to Priyanka and said, “I would like to call him Caliph.”

[naerysthelonesome]

Time spent together

Part 3

Library fic

I am very much not okay. Lit and Apollo haven’t seen each other much the past two days, and I’m getting bored!

Golden boy had gone over to Lit’s dorm room once, to loan him one of his favorite books. And Lit had spent all his free time reading it, claiming it was because they were going to be referencing it in their project. But all of us with any kind of sense know better.

And now we’re in this old, rundown public library that looks like it’s been here forever, but what do I know? It’s not even particularly quiet in here. The sounds of drilling from whatever construction work they seem to be doing upstairs, and the unashamed couple violently making out against a bookshelf, are very distracting.

Apollo is staring at them, almost contemplatively, while Lit stoically ignores them gazing intently at his (well, Apollo’s) book. I’m not sure he’s reading.

“You bastard! How dare you?!” he shrieks, causing Apollo to startle and jump. Gah! Lit’s plenty loud when he wants to be.

“Wh- what?” Goldie looks so confused, I’d be laughing if I too wasn’t just as lost.

“You killed him! How could you. Fuck” I’m gonna go ahead and assume this is about the book.

Apollo lets out a short laugh. “You are aware that we aren’t the same Apollo, right?”

“Fuck you. Fuck your horrid namesake. And fuck this book!” That’s a lot of swearing.

Lit makes an unintelligible noise and buries his face in his hands. Who knew he’d get so worked up over a book?

“Surely you knew what was going to happen. It’s a pretty famous Greek myth”

“Of course I did! But Ughhghhnn- Damnit Apollo.”

“You really should finish the book, you know? I think you’d like the ending”, Apollo soothes, smiling slightly.

“This better end well”, Lit replies, wagging a finger at Apollo, as he picks up the book and resumes reading.

Neither of the two seems to care that they aren’t actually getting any work done, which would be fine with me, except I don’t want to deal with the two dummies failing a class. That’s just unnecessary drama.

The couple is still making out. How much could you possibly explore someone else’s mouth?? I think I’d like to find out…

Sometime later, I don’t really know how long; time isn’t real anyway, Lit slams the book shut with a bang, which is impressive as it is a paperback.

“Well! You’ve done it. You’ve broken my heart”, he says with a vacant shrug, then smiles slightly as he adds “So I guess you don’t have to flirt with me anymore, huh?”

Apollo, who looked pleased at him having finished the book, now looks taken aback. I too am taken aback because this means that Lit is more perceptive than I thought!

“That’s not why-” “Heyy I’m just kidding”, Lit cuts him off with a grin. Now why would he do that? You humans are so tedious.

“Besides, the book was great, but we should actually get some work done”.

That’s disappointing, but not wrong. They were only given a week to complete the paper, out of which they’d already wasted three days first flirting, then ignoring each other.

They place their books on the table. Well, Lit places his books on the table, sliding a new notebook toward Apollo, who I suppose he knew would have come unprepared. He was obviously right in his assumption. Oh wait! Apollo has a pen. Surprise surprise, it doesn’t work.

“Okay so I’m not opposed to referencing Madeline Miller’s books in our paper. They’re REALLY good. What others can we use?”

“Don’t you have any suggestions? Some books you read as a child?”

“Look I don’t know what kind of child you were, but the extent of little Lit’s literacy was Ms. Enid Blyton and all the repetitive nonsense she wrote”

Apollo wheezes into his hand at that. To be fair to him, that was the most humorous thing Lit’s said in a while.

“Aren’t those for girls though?”

“Shh don’t unnecessarily gender things”, Lit replied with an easy smile, “But yeah, they were my mom’s and she still had them for whatever reason. I found them, read one, and was hooked”

“Huh. Very cute” Apollo teased, grinning.

“Anyway!” Lit exclaimed, a blush making its way up his face, “I did read a lot about mythology, you know, because of my name, but I haven’t really read any retellings. And it was you who chose this topic so. Suggestions”

“Maybe we should do one about Midas and the Golden touch”

“Oh shut up. Apollo skinning a satyr sounds more interesting, no?”

Apollo shuddered at that. “Always hated that myth. What about Hades and Persephone? There’s a LOT of retellings about them. We could pick our favorite.”

“Sounds cool. Let’s go with the one where she wasn’t kidnapped. I’ve always liked your uncle, and don’t think he’d do something like that”

“Can you not-!” Apollo says with a laugh.

Lit picks up his phone, then scribbles something into his notebook. He slides it across the table, to Apollo. I was hoping for a cute love letter, but it’s just a list of books. The blond chews on the pencil Lit gave him, and smiles a little as he ticks off some of the names.

“Have you even read these?”

“Nope! But you have”

“And you’re just going to trust whatever I say?”

“It’s a group project, Apollo. I highly doubt you’d sabotage the both of us”

Apollo smirks and jots down some more names, drawing tiny little suns next to some of them.

“We’ve only got a couple more days to complete this paper, but maybe read the ones I’ve marked, after? They’re really good and you’ll find them all here”, he says, gesturing vaguely at the dingy space around them.

Lit takes the book, his fingers not close enough to brush against Apollo’s, and skims it. “Alright. Show me where they are.”

This has nothing to do with the project! What the hell guys?

They stroll between the aisles, Apollo occasionally picking up, and dropping books into Lit’s arms. At one point, they both reach out for the same book and blush furiously. Apollo quickly picks it up and drops it onto the pile in Lit’s arms, turning away swiftly. The brunet stares after him, then follows.

Once Apollo looks over and figures that the pile is big enough, they head to the front desk to check them out. Lit also needs a new library card, so they’re there for a while.

“So what was the point of coming to the library exactly? It’s not like we got much work done.”

“It was supposed to be a nice, quiet place to work, but…”

“But you really didn’t think all the books would be a distraction? This definitely wasn’t your elaborate plan to get me to read your favourite books?”

“No no. Of course not”, Apollo said, glancing at Lit out the corner of his eye, “If you’d have read more books, maybe we’d have gotten more work done”

“I’m sorry I picked the wrong topic… oh wait!”

They both laughed and Apollo reached out to punch the other boy in the arm. His hand lingered on his shoulder for a bit, but I’m not sure Lit noticed.

“You’re going to be doing most of the brunt work, anyway, because I’m the one with all the information, so I don’t mind.”

“And you expect me to believe that that’s a coincidence and not the very reason you picked this topic in the first place. Right.”

Apollo simply smiles brightly, “Yepp!”

“Lazy son of a bitch”, Lit mutters under his breath.

“Hey don’t talk about Leto that way. How rude.”

“I was talking about Zeus, actually”

Apollo snorts, just as the librarian comes back with Lit’s card. They check out the cartload of books, then head back to campus together. I do wish it were hand in hand, but maybe we'll have that some other day.

[wistfulcynic]

abandon

@kmomof4 I wrote this for your birthday, but since I STRONGLY SUSPECT that you will have many birthday fics to read tomorrow I thought I’d post it early to celebrate you getting your stitches out. Congratulations on being one step closer to a fully functioning hand! Have 6k words of Neverland sex-pollen smut! 🤣🤣

Seriously, though, thank you for being such a great cheerleader for the fandom. Your real-time flails are a highlight for so many writers, and it’s been wonderful seeing you start writing yourself! I am soooo looking forward to what you have planned for CSSNS next year! And of course I personally have loved getting to know you over the past year. You are a lovely person and a great friend, and I wish you the happiest of birthdays (a few hours early) (but it’s already the 15th here, so...) ❤️❤️❤️

Summary: “Neverland sex-pollen smut” pretty much covers it. Set post-Dark Hollow, Emma and Hook get separated from Neal and encounter some unfamiliar flowers. 

(Just to be very clear there is NO dub-con here. It’s not that kind of sex pollen.) 

Words: 6k Rating: E Tags: smut, sex pollen, PWP, Neverland  

On AO3

abandon: 

“What’s that?” Emma pointed to the patch of tall, dark red flowers just to their left. Hook frowned. 

“I don’t know,” he said, the first time he’d ever not had an answer for one of her what-the-actual-fuck-is-the-deal-with-this-nightmare-place questions. 

“You don’t know?” He shrugged. “You don’t know. How many years did you spend here again?”

Hook rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you before that much has changed in Neverland since I left. I never encountered these flowers during my time here. I suggest we steer well clear of them.” 

“Agreed,” said Emma, and turned back to the path… to find more of the flowers waiting for her. “What the—” 

“That bloody demon,” snarled Hook. “He’s playing with us.” 

“What? Why?”

“Who knows why Pan does anything? Just making us dance to his piping is reason enough for him.” His expression was dark, frightening in a way it hadn’t been since before he’d turned his ship around and come back for them. 

He really doesn’t like being manipulated. The stray thought flashed into Emma’s mind and and clung there as Hook gingerly reached out with his namesake to ease the flowers aside so they could continue along the path.

She took a step forward just as the flower caught in the hook seemed to cough and a shower of dust burst forth, covering both of them in a thin, faintly glittering layer. Her eyes flew to his face to check his reaction, ready to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on how he handled it. He seemed fairly calm and not in any obvious distress, she noted with relief, noticing also the way the dust clung to his eyelashes, how it highlighted his bone structure and the scruff along his jaw, how it sparkled in the hollow of his throat and the hair on his chest. 

“God, you’re hot,” she said. 

“Aye, the weather is oppressive here, but that is the least of our concerns—” 

“No.” She felt the oddest desire to laugh. “No, it’s slang, it means… handsome.” She stumbled a bit over the word. “Attractive. Like I want to…” She reached up and brushed her fingertips over his chest, exposed by the open buttons of his shirt. His skin was warm, the hair softer than she’d expected. He caught his breath as she flattened her palm against him and she could feel his heart begin to pound. “I don’t know why I’m doing this,” she whispered. 

“I do.” His voice was deeper than usual, rougher, and angry. “This is Pan’s game. The pollen from the flower must be making you do things you don’t want.” 

“Oh, she wants,” said a taunting voice. They turned to see Pan lounging against a tree, arms crossed over his chest. Emma felt Hook tense, felt his hand come up to curl protectively around her waist. “That’s the point. The pollen doesn’t force you to do anything, it merely amplifies your existing desires. And dulls your inhibitions. Like good rum does. You should be familiar with that, Captain.” 

Hook growled. “How long does it last?” 

“Well you both got a good faceful of it so I’d say three, four hours at least. Have fun.” And with that, he was gone. 

“Curse that wretched bloody child,” snarled Hook as his arm snaked around Emma’s waist, his hand fisting in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Why?” She began to press kisses along his jaw, loving the way he shivered at her touch. His head dropped to nestle against her neck and he breathed deeply. 

“Because I shouldn’t—I should let you go.” 

“Do you want to let me go?” she murmured, pulling back to look at him. His eyes were dark and their expression made her thighs clench. 

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t.” 

His eyes fell closed on a soft exhale then as she watched his features shifted and hardened into a leer. When his eyes opened again he was the man who’d left her in Rumplestiltskin’s cell. “Shall I tell you what I want, Swan?” he asked, his voice low and harsh. “I want to rip every scrap of clothing from your body with my hook.” She caught her breath as he snagged the front of her shirt with the appendage in question, then let it trail up her chest to her neck, the point dragging lightly across her skin. “I want to mark you with it, and with my teeth,” he continued, “Marks on your soft skin that will last for days, and every time you see them you’ll think of me and remember what I did to you. I want to push you up against a tree and wrap your legs around my shoulders and I want to bury my face in your wet cunt—” Emma gasped and he smirked, his tongue tracing a glistening path along his lower lip “—and it will be wet, won’t it darling,” he purred, his voice dropping still lower as he leaned in close to her ear. “Positively dripping with how much you want me. I want to lick you, Emma, to tease you with my tongue and my teeth, work you up and hold you just on the edge until you beg me to let you finish, and then I want to thrust my cock up deep inside you and fuck you until you can’t take any more. I want to wreck you, Emma Swan.” 

“You’re trying to shock me,” she said unsteadily, struggling to think over her pounding heart. “Trying to offend me so I’ll leave. But everything you said—” She hesitated, afraid of what this confession would reveal to him but so desperately turned on she was prepared to let him see it. She drew a shuddering breath and went for broke. “That’s what I want too, Hook. I’ve—I’ve had fantasies of you fucking me for a while now.” 

The leer melted away, leaving him looking as wrecked as she felt and he groaned, shaking his head in denial even as he pulled her closer, as his lips traced a damp trail up her neck. “No,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “It’s not what you want, it’s just the pollen making you—” 

He broke off as Emma snapped open the clasps on his vest and pulled his shirt from his trousers, dragging her fingernails across his stomach as soon as it was bared. His skin was smooth and hot and he actually whimpered when she touched it, his muscles leaping beneath her hand and making her dizzy with lust. “You heard Pan, the pollen doesn’t force us to do anything,” she breathed, then leaned in and sucked hard on his collarbone. He wasn’t the only one who could leave marks. “It just takes away our reasons not to.” 

“They’re good reasons, though,” he muttered into her hair as his own hand quested beneath her shirt to close over her breast. His thumb caressed her nipple and his hooked arm was tight around her hips. “I couldn’t bear it if you had regrets… after.” 

“I won’t.” 

“How could you not?” His voice was raw now, and Emma had the fleeting thought that he might be as exposed as she. 

“Hook, please.” She tried to keep the neediness from her own voice. Without success. “I promise I won’t blame you for this, none of it is anyone’s fault but Pan’s, I just—please.” She met his gaze imploringly. “I need you to touch me.” 

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes boring into her, dark and desperate. Finally, he nodded. “Come with me.” 

He took her hand and pulled her back in the direction of the Dark Hollow, turning just before they reached it and heading down a small hill towards a thick copse of trees. He didn’t hesitate, pushing through the dense foliage and into a clearing where a small pond lay rippling gently in the breeze. 

A breeze. Emma had almost forgotten what they felt like. She sighed and lifted her hair off her neck to let the cool air caress her sweaty skin. Hook watched her with hooded eyes, his hand clenching and unclenching into a fist. 

“Emma,” he said harshly. “Are you sure about this? If you choose to walk away I won’t follow you.” 

His shirt and vest were hanging open, and she could see the rising and falling of his chest as he fought to keep his breathing steady. She could see the effort his restraint was costing him, the sweat trickling down his temple despite the breeze, his eyes so dilated the blue was barely visible. Their kiss the day before had rocked her more than she cared to admit, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for this, ready to deal with her attraction to him or what it might mean. 

And he was giving her an out. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t follow her but Emma was ashamed to admit to herself that she almost wished he would. If he tried to force her she could push him away, but this—this being the gentleman he always claimed he was… this just made her want him more. 

“I want to fuck you,” she admitted, “I have since the beanstalk. I don’t like this—” she wiped some pollen off her face “—or this stupid game of Pan’s any more than you do, but I want to know what it feels like to be with you.” With sure steps she closed the distance between them, pushed his coat, shirt, and vest off his shoulders in one go then trailed her hands down his chest, letting them come to rest just above the laces of his trousers. He was rock hard beneath those laces, and his breath in her ear was ragged. “Show me what you’ve got, pirate.”

With a growl he pounced and swept her up into his arms, his mouth coming down hard on hers. They kissed frantically, all tongues and teeth and clawing hands; Emma was so caught up in pleasure that she didn’t notice they had moved until she felt rough bark against her back and gasped at the feel of it. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you against a tree,” Hook murmured into her mouth. “Or that I’m bloody desperate to taste you. But what do you want, Swan? We have hours to fill, if the demon can be believed.” 

“I—” Emma tried to make herself think. “I—”

“Tell me, love. What shall I do to you?” 

Her head was spinning and her clit ached, and only one thing came to mind. “Just fuck me.” She ground her hips into his. “I just want your cock inside me. We’ll figure out the rest later.” 

“Always so practical, Swan,” he said, sounding almost amused as his hand and hook tore at his trouser laces. “I bloody love that about you.” 

Something fluttered in Emma at those words but she had no time to examine it; she barely had time to kick off her jeans before he was on her again, hoisting her up to wrap her legs around his waist. She threw her arms around his shoulders, gouging his skin with her nails as he buried his hook in the tree just above her head and slid inside her, groaning at the ease of the penetration. 

“I knew you’d be dripping,” he growled in her ear as he thrust into her with deep, hard strokes. “Gods, you feel so bloody good. Better even than I imagined.” 

He felt good too, thick and hard inside her, bigger than she’d imagined and oh yes, she had also imagined it. “You—oh fuck, yes, right there!—you imagined—this?” 

“Darling, I have had the—filthiest fantasies—about you,” he breathed between thrusts. “Shall I tell you—about them? Many involve handcuffs—chains, perhaps—always you spread out beneath me—begging me to let you come—then me beneath you—with the same—plea—” 

The tension was coiling tight in Emma now as his velvet voice roughened by lust wove intoxicating images in her mind. 

“Both—ah, fuck—both sides, then?” 

“I am a very—broad-minded man, love. Now come for me, darling—I know you’re close—come, Emma.” 

Oh, she loved it when he said her name, even more now with his voice so completely wrecked by lust. She clenched around him, thrilling in the way he gasped, how his fingers dug into her thigh. He thrust harder, ground his pelvis against her clit and she came, harder than she could even have imagined possible. 

She thought she may have screamed but she couldn’t be sure. The world was whirling around her, Hook was still moving inside her, still whispering filthy things in her ear—how good she felt squeezing his cock, how he was going to come deep inside her. Then he did, groaning her name into her hair, his cock pulsing as he pressed it into her one final time. 

Emma drifted down slowly from her high, still held against the tree by Hook’s body, still touching him because the influence of the pollen was strong as ever and she wanted to. It was oddly freeing, this permission to do the things she had been dreaming about for far too long, she thought as she combed her fingers through his hair.  

He seemed to feel the same way for a moment later he eased himself out of her, set her gently on her feet, then latched his mouth onto hers like he couldn’t go a second longer without kissing her. He ravished her mouth with a hard, wet kiss then dragged his lips down her neck and along her collarbone, leaving a damp trail with his tongue that caught the chill of the breeze and made her shiver. He couldn’t seem to keep his mouth off her skin, not even looking as he eased the tip of his hook beneath the straps of her shirt and bra and tugged them down to expose her breast. He trailed soft, damp kisses along the curve of it then licked her nipple roughly, and Emma felt lust begin to surge in her again. 

Hook kissed his way down her torso, licking and nipping and sucking over her navel and down to her mound, nuzzling his nose into her curls. She felt the cool curve of his hook on the back of her thigh, gently easing her leg up over his shoulder, spreading her open for him. 

“You smell bloody amazing,” he rasped, and the vibrations of his voice against her skin made her writhe. “Is this okay, love?” 

“Yes!” She pressed herself against his face, hating the desperate eagerness in her voice but damn it, she really wanted to know if he could do more with his tongue than just talk. 

He was as eager as she, growling in approval as he buried his face in her just as he’d promised, licking through her sensitive flesh in a slow, savouring caress that ended with the tip of his tongue pressed hard against her clit. Her hips bucked of their own volition and she moaned loudly. 

“You like that?” he breathed against her.  

“Yes,” she gasped, barely able to force out the word. “More.” 

“As you wish.” 

The strokes of his tongue grew rougher, licking deep through her folds and up inside her then out again to press hard circles against her clit that brought her just to the edge of bliss and held her there, held her taut and tormented as she made helpless pleading noises and clutched at his hair. His hook arm was wrapped around her leg, the sharp tip of it digging into her thigh as his fingers clutched at her ass so tightly they would surely leave bruises. He was as frantic as she, Emma realised somewhere deep in her consciousness. He loved this. 

The thought of that—of Captain Hook on his knees in front of her, barely hanging on as he pleasured her with that smartass mouth of his—sent her careening over the edge. She definitely screamed this time, as waves of pleasure rolled through her and Hook sucked her clit between his teeth to draw them out.

When the last one had faded away he stood, catching her as she swayed on wobbly legs and pinning her to the tree to kiss her, hard and frantic, his tongue deep in her mouth so she could taste herself. She hummed in enjoyment but had no energy left to do much more than let him take what he wanted. 

He broke the kiss just long enough to scoop her up in his arms and then his mouth was on her again, kissing her even as he carried her to the edge of the pond and laid her down a patch of soft, sandy ground. Stretching out beside her, he pulled off the tank top and bra that she was somehow still wearing. His touch was gentle and his movements careful but his cock was hard against her hip and his hand trembled as he eased her legs apart and sank it into her again. She angled her hips to take him in deeper and he groaned when he was fully seated, nipping at her neck as he began to move. He thrust slowly this time, long, deep strokes that kept her body humming despite how sated she felt and she sighed, relaxing into the sand and just enjoying the slick drag of him inside her until he came. 

He collapsed against her, panting breaths hot in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back, not stopping even when his breathing calmed and his cock softened within her. Neither of them spoke or moved for several long moments, save for her hand on his back and his curling into her hair. Deep in the depths of Emma’s mind a faint voice was screaming that this was too intimate, too tender, too much, but it also felt too damn good and she wasn’t ready to stop. 

—

The last thing Killian wanted to do was move, though he knew eventually he would have to. They couldn’t stay this way forever, however wonderful it felt to have her stretched out beneath him he was probably already crushing her with his weight, and both of them were sticky with sweat and other fluids. Reluctantly, he rolled away and risked a look at her face. She was smiling a soft smile that made his heart ache, and it didn’t fade when she met his eyes. 

“How are you feeling, love?” 

“Good.” She stretched luxuriantly. “Bit sore. Bit sticky.” 

“Aye. Perhaps, ah, you might care for a swim?” 

She glanced dubiously at the pond. “Can we?” 

“We can indeed.” He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her to her feet when she took it and leading her to the edge of the pond. 

“Are you sure this water’s okay?” She eyed it with a suspicious frown between her brows that he wanted to smooth away with his lips. 

So he did. This was the one time he could be free, after all. Free to touch her as he’d wanted to for what felt like a long time. 

She slipped her arm around him when he kissed her forehead, pressing her naked body along the length of his. He nearly groaned, nearly dragged her back down to the sand, but however strong their need to touch each other he didn’t think either of them were ready for another go-round quite yet. 

“It’s perfectly okay,” he said, answering her question. “I used to come here often. There’s something about this place that Pan doesn’t like so he tends to stay away. And the water itself has soothing and healing properties that—well,  come in and see for yourself.” He took her hand again and she let him lead her in until they were about chest deep. Emma swirled and splashed the water around herself and he did the same, enjoying as he was sure she must also be, the cool relief it offered from the heat of the day and the sweat of their earlier activities. 

“It feels great,” she said, smiling the widest smile he’d yet seen on her face, simple and happy. 

Killian felt his heart tumble perilously at that smile and reminded himself forcefully that this was merely an interlude. It was just the effects of the pollen that made her let him in like this; once they wore off her walls would be up again higher and stronger than ever. He still intended to break them down but certainly didn’t relish increased difficulty in this already challenging task. If only he’d been successful in his attempt to resist the pollen’s effects... but he was barely able to keep his hands off her when she wasn’t wrapped around him begging for his cock. He hadn’t stood a chance. 

They went deeper into the pond. When they were neck-deep Killian dunked his head beneath the surface. Emma did the same. Her hair swirled in the gentle current and he watched it, mesmerised.

“How deep is the water?” she asked. 

“Deep enough to swim properly, if you’d like,” he replied, then demonstrated by diving under the surface and swimming a few strokes to his left before coming up again. When he opened his eyes he couldn’t see her but she appeared at his side a moment later, laughing as water streamed down her face and hair. She caught his shoulders and pressed close to him. “I haven’t been swimming in forever,” she said. “I did a bit in Tallahassee, but—” she broke off and a cloud passed over her face. 

“But what?”  

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” 

“You can tell me, Emma,” he pressed. “Anything.” 

Please, he begged in his mind. Please don’t shut me out. Not now. Later, perhaps, but not—

“Tallahassee was where Neal and I were going to go,” she said in a small, quiet voice. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her, careful not to nick her with his hook. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been swimming with a woman since Milah, and he’d had both hands then. Emma allowed him to hug her though, let her own arms slide around his neck. “It was supposed to be like our happy ending, or something.” She tried to sound dismissive but Killian heard the decade-old pain, still in her voice. “After he left me”—Killian’s arms tightened on a flash of anger; he hadn’t known Bae had left her, what was the lad thinking?—“I went there myself. To wait for him. I thought—I thought he’d—but he didn’t, and so I moved again.” 

He brushed her wet hair back from where it was sticking to her cheek, tucked it behind her ear and kissed her. She responded warmly, opened her mouth for him, but he kept the kiss soft, just a gentle brush of lips and tongues. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. 

She tried to shrug. “It’s nothin—” 

“It’s not nothing if it hurt you,” he interrupted. “Which it clearly did.” 

She stared at him. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what, love?” 

“How do you always understand me?” 

He smiled, soft and almost shy. “As I told you on the beanstalk, Swan, you’re an open book.” 

“Mmm,” she murmured as her fingertips ruffled the hair at his nape. “And I suppose I said myself that we understand each other.” 

“Aye, so you did.” He let his hand slide down her back and over her ass, pressing her closer against him. 

She hummed and tightened her hold on his shoulders, letting her forehead rest against his—just for a heartbeat—before she leaned back again to look at him, her expression troubled. “Hook, this doesn’t—this can’t—” 

“Shh, darling I know,” he soothed. “We don’t have to speak of it. Not now, anyway. Right now I—” 

“Now you what?” 

“I want to take advantage of it,” he confessed. “This… amnesty, if you will. When the pollen’s effects have worn off we can go back to how things were, but now—” 

She cut him off with her lips on his. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Me too. Amnesty.” 

She kissed him again and this time he let it deepen, let it grow hot and aching until she was clinging to him as the water swirled around them and he was hard again, pressed insistently against her stomach. He lifted her with his hook arm and swam them both to the side of the pond where he knew there was a large, smooth rock tilted at just the right angle to support a resting body. He had lain on it himself on many an occasion to enjoy the peace of this place. He lifted Emma onto it then stretched out beside her and couldn't help smiling when she immediately snuggled up against him, as though she couldn’t get enough of the feel of his skin against hers. 

He understood the impulse. 

He wrapped his hook arm around her shoulders so she could rest her head on it then let his hand explore her body, tracing feather-light touches over her hip and the dip of her waist, up to her breast to tease her nipple, down her belly to the soft curls between her legs, slipping into her folds as she bit her lip and moaned. 

“How do you like to be touched, Emma?” he asked as his fingers stroked her, gathering her moisture and rubbing it over her most tender spot. 

She gave a strained laugh. “I’m surprised you have to ask,” she said breathily. “Everything you do is—fuck—it’s just right.” 

He felt a ridiculous surge of pride at that, but while he’d always made it a point of principle not to leave a woman unsatisfied with Emma he wanted far, far more. “I’m glad to hear that, love, but you could give me a little more to go on?” he insisted. “For example—” he slid a finger into her whilst keeping his thumb on that sensitive pearl. “How does that feel?” 

“Good. Not as… satisfying as your cock, but I like it.” 

“Could you come from this?” He slid a second finger in. “What about this?” 

“Maybe?” she gasped. “If you touched my nipple too—ooh,” she cried as his mouth closed over her breast and he licked her nipple with the flat of his tongue then nipped at it. “Yeah, I could come from that. But—” 

“But what?” 

“I don’t want to,” she confessed, meeting his eyes. “Not until I’ve had my turn.” 

“Your turn?” 

“To taste you.” 

With a quick, lithe twist of her body she flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips, clutching at his shoulders as she leaned in to kiss him. He reached for her but she shimmied away and down his body, trailing kisses as she went. Killian sighed at the feel of her mouth on his skin, absently licking his fingers—she really did taste amazing, he thought—then nearly choked on them when he felt her lips closing around his cock. 

“Sweet bloody fuck, Emma,” he groaned. 

“Hmm?” she hummed, and he hissed out a more vicious curse as the vibrations of her voice made his balls tighten. He sank his hand into his hair and clutched it hard, tugging at it to distract himself from the soft, wet warmth of her mouth as she began to suck on him... from the gentle friction as she moved her head up and down... from her tongue swirling around his tip.   

Pleas and curses fell heedlessly from his lips as gradually she eased him deeper and deeper into her mouth, until he was hitting the back of her throat and his scalp was aching from his fist pulling on his hair. Until he couldn’t hold off any longer. 

“Emma,” he gasped. “I’m going to—” 

“Mmm,” she hummed again and took his balls in her hand, squeezing them gently as she sucked his cock hard. Killian interpreted this as consent, and with a strangled noise he barely recognised as his he came in her mouth, his hips bucking helplessly. She swallowed around him until he was spent, then licked the last drops away with the tip of her tongue. He gave a garbled moan. 

She slid back up his body and lay against his chest, her chin resting on her hands and a smug little smile on her lips. 

“So I'm guessing you liked that, huh?” 

“You are… a bloody goddess, Swan,” he panted.  

“I just like having the fabled Captain Hook at my mercy,” she teased. 

She had no idea how true that was, he thought. He was beginning to suspect that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman. 

And so much he longed for from her. 

“Would you do something for me?” he heard himself ask. 

“Didn’t I just—” she broke off when she caught his solemn expression and the teasing smile fell from her own. “What is it?”

“Would you—” he took a deep breath “—would you call me Killian? Just until…” 

He could see in her eyes she understood everything he meant by the question. 

“Killian,” she said softly. “It’s a good name.” 

He pulled her up into his arms and kissed her, deep and soft and far too tenderly, but between the pollen and their bare bodies pressed together and the fact that she’d just sucked him to oblivion and the fact that he was falling in love with her—may have already fallen, if he was honest—he couldn’t hold the tenderness back. Her arms curling tight around him, her lips and tongue pressing and sliding softly against his were the best things he’d felt in three hundred years—and far too soon they would be gone. The pollen’s effects were already fading; before long he and Emma would be back to how they had always been, if not worse. She would pull away from him, retreat back behind walls rebuilt high and strong, and Killian wasn’t sure his battered heart could take it. Now that he’d had Emma soft and open in his arms he wasn’t sure he could live without at least a scrap of hope that he might have her like that again. 

Emma began to make that humming noise at the back of her throat that he now recognised as a sound of pure pleasure, her arms tightening around him, her hand sinking into his hair and combing the drying strands with her fingers. Killian’s heart clenched and his chest tightened with the anguish of impending loss. He rolled them over so she was on her back on the warm stone and gazed down at her, fixing the image of her face—of that look on her face—firmly in his mind. Water from the pond lapped against their feet as her hands roamed his body and he began to trail soft kisses down her neck, savouring her sighs of pleasure and the salty-sweet taste of her skin. He found a sensitive spot just at the curve where her neck met her shoulder and he nuzzled it, sucked and nipped at it until she was gasping and quivering.

"Killian," she breathed, "Killian."

He groaned helplessly at the sound of his name and the press of his fingers on her skin grew more insistent. Every inch of her body he explored with impassioned strokes of fingers and tongue; every spot that made her moan he worshipped. He’d give her something to remember him by, he thought almost viciously—something to warm her on those cold nights alone behind her walls. Memories that would last far longer than the marks left by his mouth on her skin.

Memories that might weaken her fortifications, just enough to give him hope. 

—

Emma couldn’t think and she was glad of it. If she could think she’d be thinking about how right this felt, with Ho—with Killian worshipping her... there was no other word for it... with his mouth and his fingers and even his hook, trailing the cool metal along her heated skin as she sighed and shivered and fought not to beg. And if she thought about how right it all felt she’d be terrified and she’d run. And if she ran... she would miss all of this. 

They didn’t speak and she was glad she couldn’t think about how that was because no words were necessary. Her body was so responsive to his touch and he was so intensely focused on her—noting every sigh and charting every moan and working her up higher and higher until she felt ready to shatter. She felt like he was mapping her as he must have mapped many undiscovered lands in his time, and she knew that if they ever found themselves like this again he would remember everything about her body and how she liked to be touched. 

It was unnerving and exciting and terrifying and wonderful and if she let herself she could get addicted to this, this dedicated attentiveness and single-minded focus on her pleasure. She wouldn’t, of course. Emma knew herself well enough to know this, to know that once the already-fading effects of the pollen were gone she would push him away as she always did, too afraid to let him in—to let him see all the broken parts of her despite how she knew that he was broken too in exactly the same ways. 

But for now she had an excuse to let herself be open, to have him like this, to give herself over to him and let him pleasure her, and she wished fiercely for enough time to take full advantage of it.

But the pollen’s effects were fading fast and her fears creeping back in to take their place. There was desperation in her fingers now as they gripped his shoulders and pulled him up to kiss him and press herself tightly against him. She wanted to feel him inside her once more before this was over, just once more, but she couldn’t find the words to tell him…

“Please, Killian…” she implored him, “please…” 

He understood—because of course he did—and she saw the flare of emotion in his eyes as she moaned his name, just before he kissed her again. His hand curled around her thigh, lifting and positioning it over his hip as she reached down to grip his cock and stroke the head of it through her slick folds before slipping its tip inside her. Their eyes met and held as he pushed in the rest of the way and god it was too intimate and too raw and she couldn’t deal with what she saw in his eyes but also couldn’t look away. She dug her heel into his ass and her fingers into his shoulders as he found their rhythm, as he filled her again and again with smooth, hard, deep thrusts and helpless moans fell from both their lips. 

Far, far too soon she felt her orgasm coiling in her belly and she wished, just for a moment, that she could hold it off and keep him here with her for longer. Just a bit longer... But everything just felt too damn good, he felt too good, and she couldn’t stop it, couldn't hold on to what she wasn't ready to let go. She cried out his name as she came—something she had never done before in all her life, but she wanted Killian to know that she knew it was him and not Hook that she was with. The sound he made in response was almost agonised; his fingers gouged painfully into her thigh as he drove himself into her with bone-shaking force then came moments later with a heartfelt groan, deep within her body. Emma lay trembling and gasping beneath him; she felt sore and roughly used and she welcomed it, welcomed the gouging fingers and the hard fucking and the bruises both would leave behind. She knew it meant he understood, and that was all that she could give him. 

They lay entwined for as long as they could, until the strengthening breeze made goosebumps rise on their skin and they pulled apart, not looking at each other. Killian cleared his throat. “You should make use of the pond to bathe,” he said. “It’s the best place on the island to do so. The water is soothing and cleansing even without soap.” 

She nodded and slipped into the water, into its welcome softness on her over-sensitised skin and though her sweaty hair. Killian followed her with a smooth dive. He surfaced in the middle of the pond to rub himself down before heading towards the sandy shore where they had left their clothes. Emma followed his lead, rubbing her hands vigorously over her skin and thoroughly rinsing her hair. Killian was right about this pond, she thought. She felt cleaner than she had in days, refreshed and invigorated. 

Even if the water easing away the soreness between her legs made her want to cry. 

—

He watched her warily as they dressed, waiting for her to pull away as she had after their first kiss. Waiting for recriminations and blame. 

“I’m not angry,” she said, not looking at him. “And I don’t regret this. But I think—there’s still Henry to save, and I can’t—” She sighed and squeezed water from her hair with a sharp twist of her arm. “Look, don’t misunderstand, but can we just pretend this never happened?” 

He echoed her sigh, but his was in relief. This, at least, was no worse than he'd expected. “Aye, love. It never happened.” 

She nodded, glanced just briefly at his face then spun away, heading for the edge of the clearing. Before she could reach it he darted forward and snagged her elbow with his hook. She didn’t turn around. 

“I still intend to win your heart, Emma,” he murmured, low in her ear, and just enough of the pollen’s effects remained to make her smile at the earnestness in his voice. 

“Good.” 

Hope lit his eyes as she curled her fingers around his hook and held it tightly as they left the clearing together. 

—

“You see?” gloated Pan. 

Neal didn’t reply. His fists and jaw were clenched so tightly they hurt, his eyes fixed on the image of the pirate and the saviour as it shimmered and faded from the still surface of the pool at his feet.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to shake the images from his brain. Images of Emma falling apart in Hook’s arms, screaming his name as she came... he doubted he’d ever be able to scrub them from his brain. What was it about that damned pirate that made women ready to throw everything away just to fuck him? Sure, Emma said she wanted to forget about it but then she held the bastard’s hook…

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It was just those flowers. Emma and I have a history, we have a kid. She’ll see. He doesn’t mean anything to her.” 

“Sure. You keep telling yourself that,” smirked Pan. 

[nerdasaurus1200]

Back when I was in the Hamilton fandom, I noticed that Alexander never wrote a farewell letter to his before the duel. I decided to remedy that.

[New York, July 4, 1804]

This letter shall shall be read by all of my children. Should the Lord decide my time is up in the coming battle in which I am about to face, I have written my own special goodbyes to you, my greatest accomplishments.

Angelica, my sweet little angel. When you were born, a small part of me died inside; I loved you so much. Make sure to keep up your piano skills with your mother and dance lessons from Nana Martha, dear. And remember, never lose a debate to Jefferson. Although I firmly believe there is no man or woman alive or dead on this Earth that is worthy of you, I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as your mother have made me. And you needn't worry, for my spirit shall comfort you in every storm you will soon face.

Alexander Junior, my namesake. Of all my possible regrets, my biggest one will be missing your graduation. I have no doubt in my mind that you will make the family, the law, and the country very proud. Last night, your sister tattled on you and informed me you are also considering going into the military as well. Perhaps I have told you too many stories and you want to be exactly like your Pops. Nonetheless, I couldn't be prouder of you, my boy.

Frances, the last thing I expected when your birth father Edward came to my doorstep that rainy Tuesday evening was decreeing that your mama, father and I take you in and raise you as our own. However, I do not regret one moment of it. I don't expect you to forgive us from hiding the truth from you for so long, but we feared you'd think the death of your parents was your fault. You may never be my daughter by birth, but you'll always be my little free one. I beg that you stay with the family, for neither of us could bear the heartbreak of losing another of our children.

James, as always, you are following in your brother's footsteps. It seems if I involve my name in my sons', they are destined to follow the path I made. My only request of you in your law career is that you work with your brother whenever you can. You boys will make an excellent team.

John, from the moment you took your first steps in my office and tried to pull out one of the thicker books from the bottom shelf, I'd known books would be your closest companion. I want you to help your mother tell my story when I'm gone. But first, I want you to finish that thesis of Shakespeare that you've been working on. I can't wait to hear it. Never stop reading or writing, son.

William, the only person alive who's temper rivals mine. Deep down, I suspect you will loathe me for leaving you at such a young age, and despise Burr for taking me away from you. I beg you, don't let your hate corrupt you. Use it to keep the family together. And for goodness sake, please don't set anything on fire after you read this just to calm yourself down.

Eliza, my little Lizzy. I never thought your mother and I would be blessed with another daughter, especially one as sweet as you. You probably won't understand why I'm gone, or even why I'm writing this until you are older. I hope that your health in restored quickly, for I cannot bear to lose another of my family to sickness. Make sure you keep everyone around you smiling, for they will need some joy in the years to come.

Little Philip, if I do die by Burr's hand, please forgive me. Though you will have every right to hate me for the rest of your life and probably will, know this. I love you, son. I love you so much. Hate me all you want for not being there for you as my father was for me, but never forget how much I love you.

Now that you've finished, you may all wonder why I'm telling you this. But there is no need to be afraid. Have faith, and pray that I return home. Stay together, and stay strong. If not for the sake of your mother, then for mine. It would tear me apart knowing my death meant the death of your bond. I know you think I'm going to be taken away from you forever, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Visit my grave, linger in my office; it doesn't matter. I will always be with every single one of you, no matter where you are. Make sure to always fight like your running out of time just as I did, and never throw away your shot. I love you all very much and hope to see you again in a better world. I will tell your brothers you said hello.

Your proud father,

A H

[sketchiedetails]

Nier: Minutiae [Then and Now]

I finally played through both Nier and Nier: Automata this year, and I’ve been wanting to post my thoughts on them for a while. I think I’ll make this a series of posts so I can focus on particular themes and go in depth where I want to. Some of this might be really clumsy analysis, some of it might be me thinking about plot holes, and most of it might just be me gushing about little details sprinkled here and there throughout both games.

If you wanna read more of my rantings, I’m gonna assume you’ve played both games so spoilers after the jump.

Also, for clarity’s sake I’ll refer to the first game solely as Nier and the second game as Automata.

This is a companion piece to my [Prologue] and [Memory and Self] posts. I titled it [Then and Now] because I wanted to explore the relationship certain characters have with past versions of themselves, but if I had to find the best words to describe this post it’d have to be [Responsibility and Guilt]. Nier and Automata have instances where the player is technically playing the same person, but not really. However, there are other characters in the game who experience this unique sense of split-personality that carry over to both games.

Emil returns to the game as a special vendor and is mostly a source of humor and absurdity to offset the overly somber tone in Automata (honestly, he’s earned the right to be a shitpost on wheels considering what he had to endure in Nier). Emil has a sidequest that requires the player to call him up whenever they encounter a Lunar Tear in the game. The quest ends with Emil revealing that when the aliens attacked Earth Emil had made several copies of himself with various types of weapons. In order to make himselves (probably the only time I get to use that term) more combat capable, he had to discard any data that didn’t help him with combat - that included his memories. Emil had to forget about the events in Nier that defined him, that were the very reason he took arms against the alien threat. Every Lunar Tear reveals a little bit more of Emil’s story and every revelation elicits a feeling of guilt and regret for Emil, both in the memories he lost and for having to discard those memories in the first place just to protect the world he once shared with his friends. 

Emil had lost his body, his friends, and furthermore he reveals that he isn’t even the original Emil. He’s an echo of someone else, yet he still retains this sense of responsibility for the world and the Lunar Tears that remind him of the ones who saved him at his lowest point, who found worth in his existence.

Emil isn’t the only returning character from Nier: the twins Popola and Devola take residence in the Resistance Camp. Like Emil, the Automata twins are different models to the twins in Nier. Even though they share the same names and likenesses over the town leaders in Nier’s Village, Automata’s Popola and Devola are treated as social pariahs in the Resistance Camp because of the events in Nier. Even though they weren’t the same duo responsible for the shitshow that occurred in that game, all Popola / Devola models have been considered guilty by association and were later programmed to carry guilt over the event even though they weren’t the same models to cause the incident. 

Popola and Devola get their own monologue like the bosses in Automata’s B - Route, which is interesting considering they aren’t enemies in this game so far only enemies have been given backstories to flesh out their characters just before the player would have to engage them in combat. Even their debut was designed to surprise the player because the two don’t appear in the forefront of the Camp at the beginning of the game but appear after an important story beat. If the player had finished Nier before Automata, their first instinct would be the same as everyone else in the Camp and treated the twins with caution. The monologue reveals that the twins are deeply resentful for their treatment, both by how they’ve been programmed to feel guilty for a crime they technically didn’t commit - this has to be a reference to Original Sin - and for their treatment as outcasts by the rest of the world.

Ultimately, the twins sacrifice themselves to help 9S access the tower and to redeem themselves from their “sin” in the first Nier game. You could argue that they wanted to prove to the other androids that they were their own selves and not the same twins who helped almost destroy the world, but I’d argue that they did it more to prove to themselves that same point.

Both examples show characters who were devoted to a cause very important to themselves - protecting the Earth for Emil, and reaching self-actualization for the twins - and these drives helped them to overcome the guilt of their sins, whether or not they deserved that guilt. Ironically, the original main character and namesake of the series is the one who cannot accept the guilt of his actions because he’s too obsessed with his self-imposed responsibilities. Nier’s only motivation is to protect his daughter Yonah and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. To him this means he’ll work any odd job if it brings money to the table and later on he takes on the task of obtaining every Sealed Verse to fulfill a prophecy told to him by Popola and Devola (the bad ones) that would rid the world of the Black Scrawl, the disease plaguing his daughter. Instead of spending what time he has left with his daughter, Nier becomes an absentee father convincing himself that it’s the best thing he can do for Yonah. When the Shadowlord kidnaps Yonah, Nier’s devotion to protecting his daughter almost becomes a character flaw because it turns him into a single-minded maniac who will kill any Shade that crosses his path if it brings him closer to Yonah.

When Nier learns that the Shadowlord is actually his soul, he never even attempts to make peace with himself or find a compromise that can benefit both parties. Like in the Prologue, all Nier cares about is making sure Yonah is safe and will kill any Shade that gets in his way.

There’s this idea that you consider yourself in the past or future as a separate entity; when you look back and cringe on the dumb things you were into, or choose to indulge yourself and binge on some junk food or procrastinate on an activity and say you’ll worry about it later. That’s the kind of projection that has you thinking that Future-You is another person who’ll have to deal with the consequences later. Nier and Nier: Automata have created scenarios where characters can actually acknowledge themselves as literal separate entities and judge themselves from the outside. Emil feels a deep regret but overall relief for keeping the planet safe. Popola and Devola chose to be better versions than their more notorious counter parts. Nier’s personal tragedy is that he doesn’t like what he sees in himself, but can’t even accept that he’s his own worst enemy.

This is the core idea I wanted to explore when I wrote about [The Prologue] and [Memory and Self]. Self-reflection is a hard but necessary function to learn from your mistakes and make better choices in the future. If you can’t accept the parts of you that are harmful, you’ll end up repeating the same offenses again and again.

[cadencekismet]

Top ten of 2018

I haven’t read as much as I usually do this year, but I should still have read ten books good enough for my top ten list.

We’re going to start with movies/tv though. I’ve only got three here.

1. Black Panther. If you’ve somehow been sleeping on this one, wake up and watch it. I’m not a big superhero movie person and even I loved it.

2. Casablanca. Took me long enough. But it’s a really good movie, with the sort of queer subtext that even my dad can pick up on (seriously, you have no idea how weird it was to me when they walked off together at the end and he gave me the old person equivalent of “I ship it”. Super strange.) Plus the morals about fighting back against the nazis. The history of this movie. Worth watching.

3. V for Vendetta. I know. Believe me, I know! I wouldn’t have watched it at all if not for a tumblr post about how V isn’t actually the main character, but I’m really glad I did. It’s super interested in queerness and it has Stephen Fry and (honestly, this was the thing that amused me the most) the entire ending of “The Empty Hearse” from Sherlock was lifted practically wholesale from this movie. If you want to be annoyed about s4 of Sherlock all over again or if you want fuel for your tinhatting, watch/rewatch this movie.

Books

1. They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib. This book is my favorite thing I read all year and I wasn’t even expecting to like it. It’s a series of essays about music, and I don’t really listen to much music like that. It’s not about the music, guys. Like Maggie Nelson’s The Argonauts, this book is a sort of political theoretical memoir. He’s a poet, and you can tell from the way he uses language. It’s fucking miraculous. This book is published by a small press too, which means you can read it and not support Penguin Random House holding 4/5 of the publishing industry. Everyone should read this.

2. On Canaan Side by Sebastian Barry. Listen, Barry is another one who just... his command of language can take my breath away. I read this one because I had read Days Without End. This one is very different but also lovely. An old woman decides to kill herself and writes her life story to explain why. It’s bittersweet and tender.

3. Swimmer Among the Stars by Kanishk Tharoor. This is a book of short stories. I particularly recommend the very first (titular) story, mostly because it is about languages and how they evolve and I’m so excited about that. All the stories were great, I can’t honestly think of one I disliked. It was an excellent book that everyone should read.

4. On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden. Um, guys, Walden wrote a masterpiece here. This is a graphic novel with an all female (and queer) cast taking place somewhere in space. It’s gorgeous, the writing is beautiful, I’m in love with every single character... I wasn’t too excited about her last book (probably wouldn’t have bought this one if I’d figured out why her name looked so familiar) but this book. Y’all, I’m so grateful that I didn’t miss out on this book.

5. Winter by Ali Smith. (I can’t remember if I included How to be Both in last year’s list or not, but if I didn’t, this item counts for both.) The second of an eventual quartet named after the seasons, (they don’t share characters so far so no need to read Autumn first) this is a story about hope and redemption. It’s... I don’t think I actually like any of the characters? They’re all a little bit conservative except for Ire. But the whole book is so compassionate and the characters mature and you get the idea that maybe they can learn to do better. Autumn was supposed to be the first post-brexit novel and you can see a lot of that same wrestling with the unexpected conservatism of an entire country here, but it feels hopeful too, like spring is coming.

6. Dactyl Hill Squad by Daniel Jose Older. Full disclosure, this is a kids book. It’s written for ten-year-olds. But. It’s a kickass story about prejudice and dinosaurs and kids being bullied over the color of their skin. It’s really stunning and I 100% recommend it to anyone who likes adventure. Older also wrote Shadowshaper and it’s sequel for YA audiences and Half-Resurrection Blues and its sequel(s?) for grownups. I cannot tell you how much I admire this author. He’s fantastic. I don’t use twitter, but when I do I always check up on his. He’s my hero.

7. Invisible Planets by Ken Liu. This is a collection of short Chinese sci-fi stories translated by the guy who translates the Three-Body Problem books. It’s so damn good, guys. I don’t know that anyone would like all of it, because he made a real effort to include a wide variety of stories but everyone should find something. My favorite premise is from “Folding Beijing” where the whole city folds and unfolds every day. The titular story is a spoof on Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino with more interest in the impact of colonialism. There was an excellent story on censorship whose name I can’t remember... Totally worth reading if you’re interested in sci-fi or even just willing to give it a try.

8. Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare. Yeah, look, I know. It’s not that if you hate Shakespeare you’ll magically love this one. It’s just that, as someone who loves Shakespeare, this was a wonderful nuanced portrait of many terrible terrible people. (tw for rape, attempted rape, attempted gaslighting, and acephobic language, among other things. Also, there’s an ace character but he’s a dick.) I loved this play so much, I can’t even tell you, and if you’re ever looking for a super awful play about super awful people, this is the play for you. It’s fantastic.

9. The Gift Horse and Other Stories by Kate Cruise O’Brien. This book of interconnected short stories is about the after affects of trauma, both of the personal familial sort and the larger national type. O’Brien is an Irish author and this book deals with the troubles, among other things. I loved it so much that I finished it and went out and bought her next collection, even though I would be flying internationally and couldn’t carry too many books.

10. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. I’ve been recommended Lahiri’s work for years but I’ve never gotten around to reading her before. I shouldn’t have waited so long. This was a great story about names and culture clash between generations. It was about assimilation and about making connections. If you get a chance, definitely pick this up.

[synergygolfsolutions]

Greg Norman: All I Know About Winning in Golf, Business and Life

The trek to Greg Norman's getaway in northwest Colorado is a roundabout one. The retreat is tucked away in a remote, evergreen-covered corner of this rugged state, an area so isolated that GPS is little help. An unmarked dirt road runs from the highway to his front door, uncoiling like the rattlesnakes that lurk in the brush. Driving for some 30 minutes, you feel lost. Definitely lost. Then his Rocky Mountain Xanadu appears: a 14,000-square-foot "cabin," two miles of fly-fishing nirvana, and wildlife at every turn. Norman's ranch is as beautiful and seemingly as vast as the snowcapped Rockies that encircle it. It's difficult to fathom how he parlayed "only" 20 PGA Tour wins into this.

Of course, the Shark was chasing much more than just trophies. Like Arnold Palmer before him, Greg Norman oozed charisma, both on and off the course. He bestrode fairways with a swashbuckling, take-no-prisoners (and look good doing it) style that made everyone notice. Prize money? That was chump change. Norman saw a worldwide brand as the ultimate reward, and he has gone on to amass a fortune that has been estimated at $400 million. Sure, there were bumps along the road. Take the well-publicized divorce from his first wife in 2006 that halved his assets (au revoir, $103 million); the heartbreaking near misses in eight majors; his clash with the PGA Tour over his World Tour brainchild, which he calls the low point of his career. But you don't become an icon by surrendering to adversity. "Failure makes you stronger," says Norman, 58, now three years into his third marriage (with interior designer Kirsten Kutner, 45). How strong? Great White Shark Enterprises operates 16 profitable ventures in areas ranging from real-estate development to turf research to prime beef sales. Like his ravenous namesake, the Great White Shark is far from satisfied. He's got big plans. Welcome to the success secrets of a man in full -- the guiding thoughts that helped a kid from Mount Isa, Australia, ascend from a $32-a-week job in a pro shop to the pinnacle of the golf world, and build his brand into a booming international business.

Do Your Homework

I became a good businessman because I was a good golfer. Golf taught me how to practice, formulate a strategy and then execute it -- a due-diligence process that also fuels good business decisions. Some people are naturals at business. I'm not, but I had a great education through golf.

Patience Is Underrated

I signed my first contract with Reebok in 1989. Paul Fireman, Reebok's CEO, had a dream for me, but eventually structured the deal so I could function as my own brand. That was huge. The more independent you can be in life, the better. But since I didn't have a lot of marketing or branding knowledge at the time, I was patient. I didn't go for the quick buck. I focused only on how big it could become. I'm lucky in that I have pretty good long-term vision. Why do I have it? I don't know. But here we are decades later -- and I've only reached 20 percent of what this company is capable of achieving.

I was a different person on the course. I wasn't as patient, because I didn't have to be. I knew everything about the game and was super-confident in my abilities. I played by the sword and died by it. Would I have changed some things about my game knowing what success in business has taught me? It's something that I'd consider. But don't get me wrong -- I have zero regrets.

Winning Is About Heart

A lot of people ask how I'd stack up against today's players if I had use of modern equipment. Listen, it's not about the gear. Winning is about what's in your heart and in your head. Equipment dictates how to play the game in an era, but the physical and mental skills are the same. And I had them. I never feared anything or anyone on the course, and I wasn't afraid to fail. So I think I'd do pretty well against Snead, Hogan, Tiger and Phil -- whoever. Tiger's a tough guy, but I was a tough guy on the course, too. I probably would have beat him.

Never Blame Your Tools

The best are always going to be the best, no matter what you chuck in their bag. Send five guys out on Augusta National with hickory-shafted clubs and gutta-percha balls, and the guy with the most talent will always win. Technology allows you to extract certain things from your equipment, but how you extract it is dependent upon your ability to swing the club. Science can only take you so far.

The Secret's in the Shaft

When I was young I read a lot of articles by Ben Hogan. He wrote pages on the stiffness and torque he used in his shafts. I remember thinking, Sh-t! I need to figure this out. I spent a lot of time trying different shafts and, when I found a good match, making sure the spine was set in the same place on every club. I got it right, so I can't figure out why today's pros can't do likewise. Take Rory [McIlory]. It's absurd to say he has gear issues. It's so easy to re-create the same specs and feel from one set to the next. Something else is going on [with him].

Play Within Your Limits

The biggest difference between weekend players and pros? Let's say we're both 100 yards from the pin -- a sand wedge for me and a gap wedge for you. I'll use my pitching wedge and swing at 70 percent. You'll hit your gap wedge at 100 percent. And you'll lose. Weekend players go for broke while pros look for a way to play the minimum.

Play with Precision

When I was playing my best, my caddie, Bruce Edwards, would give me half yardages -- as in, "Greg, you've got 147 and a half yards to the pin." Sounds extreme, but a half-yard is 18 inches, which often means the difference between "good chance" and "no chance" on the ensuing putt. Spend time getting to know your distances and how to be precise with them on the fly. You may not realize it, but the distance you hit the ball changes with the atmosphere. Those humid early-morning rounds? You're going to lose yards. Similarly, the ball will jump when it's hot or dry. Guys can drive it 300 yards today without blinking an eye, but it's still a precision game.

Keep Your Swing Simple

There are a lot of moving parts in the swing, but you can't worry about each and every one. Charlie Earp, my first coach, taught me to always keep the triangle formed by my shoulders and grip in front of my body, from start to finish. If you maintain the triangle as you rotate, everything else falls into place. I've used this tip for 35 years. Hold the triangle, get the club parallel at the top, then let 'er rip (see sequence, below).

Listen to Your Body

The last time you saw me on TV was probably during the 2008 British Open at Royal Birkdale, where I had the 54-hole lead before finishing third. That wasn't the swing you saw in the 1980s and '90s. My stance is wider now, and I stop my backswing short of parallel. I have to. My body can't take the stress of rotating anymore.

I used to be super-flexible -- I could even do splits. It was the source of my power, but it allowed me to overrotate. I developed so many stress fractures in my spine that I ended up needing surgery. Butch Harmon was the one to get me to widen my stance, which automatically limits rotation. I fought him at first, but then listened to what Mother Nature was telling me. And I darn near won that Open.

Golf places severe pressure on your joints, so you either have to take excellent care of your body or find a swing that isn't so taxing. We get older and more frail. That's life.

Find a Confidence Boost

Success breeds success. I started playing golf at age 16, and by the time I was 21 I was competing in professional events. I knew I was good, but I didn't know how good until the 1976 West Lakes Classic, an Australian Tour event held at the Grange G.C. in Adelaide. I was a complete nobody, and the field had Bruce Devlin, Bruce Crampton, David Graham, and a couple of guys from the PGA Tour. By the end of the third round I had a 10-shot lead. That was it for me. I knew right then and there that I could be great. Everyone needs a shot of confidence, and my victory at the Grange -- the first of 89 pro wins -- was it.

Build a Swing Foundation

I went from novice to scratch in two years. I was lucky in that the things I liked to do before I got into golf, mainly surfing, established foundations for my game. Surfing develops your core, lat muscles and shoulders -- the engines of your swing. Plus it gives you balance. When you're riding a wave your proprioceptors [sensory receptors that detect body position] are firing on all cylinders -- you learn balance very quickly. I've talked about how surfing helps your swing with [pro surfer] Kelly Slater. Kelly loves golf, and we agree that surfing makes you a better player. One moment you're perfectly calm waiting for a wave, and the next you're firing up and dropping in, just like when you're on the tee box getting ready to hit a shot. If you don't surf, try swimming. It works.

Use Strategy, Not Emotion

I was an aggressive golfer, but I always knew the stakes. I got a feel for it during the gambling games I got into while training to be a professional under Charlie Earp at Royal Queensland. I was only 20 at the time, and Charlie was paying me $32 a week, so gambling was a necessary second income. I played against a lot of members. During one match, my partner, Cyril King, and I went down $800 after 16 holes. I didn't have $8 to my name, let alone $800, but I knew No. 17 was a par 5 and 18 was a tough par 4 -- a huge advantage for Cyril and me against our older opponents. We went double or nothing, and actually took home money after I finished eagle-birdie. Had 17 been a short par 3 and 18 a manageable par 4? Who knows if we would have doubled-down? But our decision was strategy-based, not an emotional one. Aggressive for sure, but also smart.

Find Your Happy Place

In 1986 I became the first player to win $1 million in a season. Some of the guys thought it was crazy money, but now you get $1 million for winning the Shriners [the Las Vegas Tour event]. So "crazy" is relative, but the Tour has set things up to let even halfway decent players make a comfy living. That was never my style. I saw endorsements, branding and business opportunities as the real trophies, and you can only get them when you're at the very top. The downside to becoming a brand is that everything I say or do gets scrutinized, and it can either hurt or help your business. So I watch my step and watch what I say. It's tough, but I wouldn't change it for the world. That's why I love being here [in Colorado]. I can do the things I like most and, well, disappear.

Broaden Your Horizons

I played professionally for seven years before taking my game to the U.S. I was anxious to play on the PGA Tour, but I felt I needed a world view before I could become dominant. So after playing in Australia, I toured in Asia and then Europe. You learn a lot when you're outside the Western world, the most important thing being how different people perceive you based on their culture, religion and ethics. It's a huge influence on the way I am today. The experience was a force that allowed me to succeed in America. It was a long road, so I consider my win at the 1984 Kemper Open as one of the highlights of my career. I had seen the world, won everywhere I went, and now I was doing it in the States. It was the moment I had officially arrived.

Be Open to New Ideas (Even If They're Not Yours)

The abyss of my professional career was my run-in with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem over the World Tour, my idea for an international series of tournaments. It was a beautiful plan and good for golf. I had the support of numerous marquee players, a lucrative TV contract in place, and most important, I had structured it so that the players owned it. I've always believed that if you help build equity in something, you should receive some of the spoils. Unfortunately, Finchem and the media ripped me to shreds. They said I was trying to ruin the game. It got so bad that a lot of PGA club pros who carried Greg Norman Collection [clothes] began canceling their contracts. I was devastated, but I was so sure of the World Tour's promise that I called each one of them to explain my side of the story, because I was never offered the chance to do so with the PGA Tour. It took weeks. I asked each one to hear me out and draw his own conclusions. Everyone kept their contract. My tour never got off the ground, yet three years later the PGA Tour launched the World Golf Championships. I guess they didn't like the fact that it wasn't their idea.

It's poor policy to slay the dreamer just because he or she came up with a better plan. It's so against how I do things. If you came to me with something great that I had never thought of, I'd say, "Are you okay, or do you want help? Should we joint-venture?" If the answer is "no," I'm still going to support you, because your idea is fantastic. It didn't happen that way with Finchem and, honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't do certain things in golf anymore. I haven't played in a PGA-sanctioned event in 18 months. I don't see a reason to support an entity that tried to destroy my dream.

Find a Family Bond

Fostering common interests makes everything easier. Our family likes to do the same things, and I think that's what keeps us strong. We're big scuba people. My daughter, Morgan, is a master diver. We've been all over the world, and having that time with my kids has been huge. You can't sit around the house and do nothing. And it's not just with your children. My wife, Kiki [Kirsten], loves coming to the ranch as much as I do. Our shared interests make us closer.

A caveat: Let your kids find themselves in sport. You can't smother them like I see a lot of parents do. It's okay to be there on the periphery, but kids should develop on their own. They'll resent you if you play too heavy a hand.

Seize the Day

I've recently launched the Great White Shark Opportunity Fund, an asset-based financing company that helps small businesses. I never imagined doing such a thing, but with some of the things going on economically throughout the world, we saw an opportunity. I could have left it alone, but opportunity may not always be there. You have to at least consider ideas when they come across your desk. At the very least, consider the potential.

My first coach, Charlie Earp, had a phrase: "DIN & DIP." It means "Do It Now and Do It Properly," and it's the best piece of advice that's ever been lent to me or that I've passed along. If you have a task, commit to it, get it done, and then move on to the next challenge.

Think Vertically

My goal is to grow my brand on a global basis. I'm a fan of what Ralph Lauren has done with Polo and the horse logo. He built a brand, then pushed it in every direction. Lauren thinks vertically, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My course-design business holds the key. When someone comes to me with millions or even tens of millions of dollars to design a course as part of a real-estate development or resort, I know I can leverage it by, say, stocking the cellars with my wine, the pro shop with Greg Norman Collection clothing, the kitchen with my Greg Norman Australian Prime steaks. They're already investing in the value of my brand, so why not add some scale to it? I think it's a great model, and with 70 designs under my belt, so far so good.

Leave the Right Legacy

I'd like to see my logo live on in perpetuity after my death. That's the greatest compliment you can have. But my real legacy? It's my kids and my family. They're what's important. What I do outside of them—stuff that I enjoy -- is for me.

Be Happy for Others

I know how hard it is to be successful, so I get elated when others experience it. Like when Adam Scott won the Masters. I was so happy for him that I cried. It comes down to, don't be the jealous guy. Remember, things will outlast you. We're only here for a certain amount of time, so it's important to make decisions that are good for everyone around you, not just you.

Be a Mentor

If somebody asks me for help, I'm going to help them. Years ago back in Australia, Adam Scott came to me with a lot of great questions. Deep questions, like, "What's it like when you get to 40?" I don't lock my door to anybody. And now Adam's off and running, but we still stay in contact. When he won at Augusta National, it felt like I had won! Helping someone achieve their own success is just about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Commit to Golf and Life

Golf teaches you about who you are -- how you deal with failure, how you deal with success, how you deal with humility, how you deal with the public. Most people fail in at least a few areas, so you've got to work at it. I certainly had to. If you truly want to succeed at golf, business, life -- any endeavor -- you have to fully commit to it. It's not enough to only want it. The competition is too heavy. And if you're lucky enough to reach the top of whatever you do, then you actually have to work harder, because everyone underneath is gunning for you. Unfortunately, there's no quit.

Brought to you by Synergy Golf Solutions

[4seasonscountryclub]

Greg Norman: All I Know About Winning in Golf, Business and Life

The trek to Greg Norman's getaway in northwest Colorado is a roundabout one. The retreat is tucked away in a remote, evergreen-covered corner of this rugged state, an area so isolated that GPS is little help. An unmarked dirt road runs from the highway to his front door, uncoiling like the rattlesnakes that lurk in the brush. Driving for some 30 minutes, you feel lost. Definitely lost. Then his Rocky Mountain Xanadu appears: a 14,000-square-foot "cabin," two miles of fly-fishing nirvana, and wildlife at every turn. Norman's ranch is as beautiful and seemingly as vast as the snowcapped Rockies that encircle it. It's difficult to fathom how he parlayed "only" 20 PGA Tour wins into this.

Of course, the Shark was chasing much more than just trophies. Like Arnold Palmer before him, Greg Norman oozed charisma, both on and off the course. He bestrode fairways with a swashbuckling, take-no-prisoners (and look good doing it) style that made everyone notice. Prize money? That was chump change. Norman saw a worldwide brand as the ultimate reward, and he has gone on to amass a fortune that has been estimated at $400 million. Sure, there were bumps along the road. Take the well-publicized divorce from his first wife in 2006 that halved his assets (au revoir, $103 million); the heartbreaking near misses in eight majors; his clash with the PGA Tour over his World Tour brainchild, which he calls the low point of his career. But you don't become an icon by surrendering to adversity. "Failure makes you stronger," says Norman, 58, now three years into his third marriage (with interior designer Kirsten Kutner, 45). How strong? Great White Shark Enterprises operates 16 profitable ventures in areas ranging from real-estate development to turf research to prime beef sales. Like his ravenous namesake, the Great White Shark is far from satisfied. He's got big plans. Welcome to the success secrets of a man in full -- the guiding thoughts that helped a kid from Mount Isa, Australia, ascend from a $32-a-week job in a pro shop to the pinnacle of the golf world, and build his brand into a booming international business.

Do Your Homework

I became a good businessman because I was a good golfer. Golf taught me how to practice, formulate a strategy and then execute it -- a due-diligence process that also fuels good business decisions. Some people are naturals at business. I'm not, but I had a great education through golf.

Patience Is Underrated

I signed my first contract with Reebok in 1989. Paul Fireman, Reebok's CEO, had a dream for me, but eventually structured the deal so I could function as my own brand. That was huge. The more independent you can be in life, the better. But since I didn't have a lot of marketing or branding knowledge at the time, I was patient. I didn't go for the quick buck. I focused only on how big it could become. I'm lucky in that I have pretty good long-term vision. Why do I have it? I don't know. But here we are decades later -- and I've only reached 20 percent of what this company is capable of achieving.

I was a different person on the course. I wasn't as patient, because I didn't have to be. I knew everything about the game and was super-confident in my abilities. I played by the sword and died by it. Would I have changed some things about my game knowing what success in business has taught me? It's something that I'd consider. But don't get me wrong -- I have zero regrets.

Winning Is About Heart

A lot of people ask how I'd stack up against today's players if I had use of modern equipment. Listen, it's not about the gear. Winning is about what's in your heart and in your head. Equipment dictates how to play the game in an era, but the physical and mental skills are the same. And I had them. I never feared anything or anyone on the course, and I wasn't afraid to fail. So I think I'd do pretty well against Snead, Hogan, Tiger and Phil -- whoever. Tiger's a tough guy, but I was a tough guy on the course, too. I probably would have beat him.

Never Blame Your Tools

The best are always going to be the best, no matter what you chuck in their bag. Send five guys out on Augusta National with hickory-shafted clubs and gutta-percha balls, and the guy with the most talent will always win. Technology allows you to extract certain things from your equipment, but how you extract it is dependent upon your ability to swing the club. Science can only take you so far.

The Secret's in the Shaft

When I was young I read a lot of articles by Ben Hogan. He wrote pages on the stiffness and torque he used in his shafts. I remember thinking, Sh-t! I need to figure this out. I spent a lot of time trying different shafts and, when I found a good match, making sure the spine was set in the same place on every club. I got it right, so I can't figure out why today's pros can't do likewise. Take Rory [McIlory]. It's absurd to say he has gear issues. It's so easy to re-create the same specs and feel from one set to the next. Something else is going on [with him].

Play Within Your Limits

The biggest difference between weekend players and pros? Let's say we're both 100 yards from the pin -- a sand wedge for me and a gap wedge for you. I'll use my pitching wedge and swing at 70 percent. You'll hit your gap wedge at 100 percent. And you'll lose. Weekend players go for broke while pros look for a way to play the minimum.

Play with Precision

When I was playing my best, my caddie, Bruce Edwards, would give me half yardages -- as in, "Greg, you've got 147 and a half yards to the pin." Sounds extreme, but a half-yard is 18 inches, which often means the difference between "good chance" and "no chance" on the ensuing putt. Spend time getting to know your distances and how to be precise with them on the fly. You may not realize it, but the distance you hit the ball changes with the atmosphere. Those humid early-morning rounds? You're going to lose yards. Similarly, the ball will jump when it's hot or dry. Guys can drive it 300 yards today without blinking an eye, but it's still a precision game.

Keep Your Swing Simple

There are a lot of moving parts in the swing, but you can't worry about each and every one. Charlie Earp, my first coach, taught me to always keep the triangle formed by my shoulders and grip in front of my body, from start to finish. If you maintain the triangle as you rotate, everything else falls into place. I've used this tip for 35 years. Hold the triangle, get the club parallel at the top, then let 'er rip (see sequence, below).

Listen to Your Body

The last time you saw me on TV was probably during the 2008 British Open at Royal Birkdale, where I had the 54-hole lead before finishing third. That wasn't the swing you saw in the 1980s and '90s. My stance is wider now, and I stop my backswing short of parallel. I have to. My body can't take the stress of rotating anymore.

I used to be super-flexible -- I could even do splits. It was the source of my power, but it allowed me to overrotate. I developed so many stress fractures in my spine that I ended up needing surgery. Butch Harmon was the one to get me to widen my stance, which automatically limits rotation. I fought him at first, but then listened to what Mother Nature was telling me. And I darn near won that Open.

Golf places severe pressure on your joints, so you either have to take excellent care of your body or find a swing that isn't so taxing. We get older and more frail. That's life.

Find a Confidence Boost

Success breeds success. I started playing golf at age 16, and by the time I was 21 I was competing in professional events. I knew I was good, but I didn't know how good until the 1976 West Lakes Classic, an Australian Tour event held at the Grange G.C. in Adelaide. I was a complete nobody, and the field had Bruce Devlin, Bruce Crampton, David Graham, and a couple of guys from the PGA Tour. By the end of the third round I had a 10-shot lead. That was it for me. I knew right then and there that I could be great. Everyone needs a shot of confidence, and my victory at the Grange -- the first of 89 pro wins -- was it.

Build a Swing Foundation

I went from novice to scratch in two years. I was lucky in that the things I liked to do before I got into golf, mainly surfing, established foundations for my game. Surfing develops your core, lat muscles and shoulders -- the engines of your swing. Plus it gives you balance. When you're riding a wave your proprioceptors [sensory receptors that detect body position] are firing on all cylinders -- you learn balance very quickly. I've talked about how surfing helps your swing with [pro surfer] Kelly Slater. Kelly loves golf, and we agree that surfing makes you a better player. One moment you're perfectly calm waiting for a wave, and the next you're firing up and dropping in, just like when you're on the tee box getting ready to hit a shot. If you don't surf, try swimming. It works.

Use Strategy, Not Emotion

I was an aggressive golfer, but I always knew the stakes. I got a feel for it during the gambling games I got into while training to be a professional under Charlie Earp at Royal Queensland. I was only 20 at the time, and Charlie was paying me $32 a week, so gambling was a necessary second income. I played against a lot of members. During one match, my partner, Cyril King, and I went down $800 after 16 holes. I didn't have $8 to my name, let alone $800, but I knew No. 17 was a par 5 and 18 was a tough par 4 -- a huge advantage for Cyril and me against our older opponents. We went double or nothing, and actually took home money after I finished eagle-birdie. Had 17 been a short par 3 and 18 a manageable par 4? Who knows if we would have doubled-down? But our decision was strategy-based, not an emotional one. Aggressive for sure, but also smart.

Find Your Happy Place

In 1986 I became the first player to win $1 million in a season. Some of the guys thought it was crazy money, but now you get $1 million for winning the Shriners [the Las Vegas Tour event]. So "crazy" is relative, but the Tour has set things up to let even halfway decent players make a comfy living. That was never my style. I saw endorsements, branding and business opportunities as the real trophies, and you can only get them when you're at the very top. The downside to becoming a brand is that everything I say or do gets scrutinized, and it can either hurt or help your business. So I watch my step and watch what I say. It's tough, but I wouldn't change it for the world. That's why I love being here [in Colorado]. I can do the things I like most and, well, disappear.

Broaden Your Horizons

I played professionally for seven years before taking my game to the U.S. I was anxious to play on the PGA Tour, but I felt I needed a world view before I could become dominant. So after playing in Australia, I toured in Asia and then Europe. You learn a lot when you're outside the Western world, the most important thing being how different people perceive you based on their culture, religion and ethics. It's a huge influence on the way I am today. The experience was a force that allowed me to succeed in America. It was a long road, so I consider my win at the 1984 Kemper Open as one of the highlights of my career. I had seen the world, won everywhere I went, and now I was doing it in the States. It was the moment I had officially arrived.

Be Open to New Ideas (Even If They're Not Yours)

The abyss of my professional career was my run-in with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem over the World Tour, my idea for an international series of tournaments. It was a beautiful plan and good for golf. I had the support of numerous marquee players, a lucrative TV contract in place, and most important, I had structured it so that the players owned it. I've always believed that if you help build equity in something, you should receive some of the spoils. Unfortunately, Finchem and the media ripped me to shreds. They said I was trying to ruin the game. It got so bad that a lot of PGA club pros who carried Greg Norman Collection [clothes] began canceling their contracts. I was devastated, but I was so sure of the World Tour's promise that I called each one of them to explain my side of the story, because I was never offered the chance to do so with the PGA Tour. It took weeks. I asked each one to hear me out and draw his own conclusions. Everyone kept their contract. My tour never got off the ground, yet three years later the PGA Tour launched the World Golf Championships. I guess they didn't like the fact that it wasn't their idea.

It's poor policy to slay the dreamer just because he or she came up with a better plan. It's so against how I do things. If you came to me with something great that I had never thought of, I'd say, "Are you okay, or do you want help? Should we joint-venture?" If the answer is "no," I'm still going to support you, because your idea is fantastic. It didn't happen that way with Finchem and, honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't do certain things in golf anymore. I haven't played in a PGA-sanctioned event in 18 months. I don't see a reason to support an entity that tried to destroy my dream.

Find a Family Bond

Fostering common interests makes everything easier. Our family likes to do the same things, and I think that's what keeps us strong. We're big scuba people. My daughter, Morgan, is a master diver. We've been all over the world, and having that time with my kids has been huge. You can't sit around the house and do nothing. And it's not just with your children. My wife, Kiki [Kirsten], loves coming to the ranch as much as I do. Our shared interests make us closer.

A caveat: Let your kids find themselves in sport. You can't smother them like I see a lot of parents do. It's okay to be there on the periphery, but kids should develop on their own. They'll resent you if you play too heavy a hand.

Seize the Day

I've recently launched the Great White Shark Opportunity Fund, an asset-based financing company that helps small businesses. I never imagined doing such a thing, but with some of the things going on economically throughout the world, we saw an opportunity. I could have left it alone, but opportunity may not always be there. You have to at least consider ideas when they come across your desk. At the very least, consider the potential.

My first coach, Charlie Earp, had a phrase: "DIN & DIP." It means "Do It Now and Do It Properly," and it's the best piece of advice that's ever been lent to me or that I've passed along. If you have a task, commit to it, get it done, and then move on to the next challenge.

Think Vertically

My goal is to grow my brand on a global basis. I'm a fan of what Ralph Lauren has done with Polo and the horse logo. He built a brand, then pushed it in every direction. Lauren thinks vertically, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My course-design business holds the key. When someone comes to me with millions or even tens of millions of dollars to design a course as part of a real-estate development or resort, I know I can leverage it by, say, stocking the cellars with my wine, the pro shop with Greg Norman Collection clothing, the kitchen with my Greg Norman Australian Prime steaks. They're already investing in the value of my brand, so why not add some scale to it? I think it's a great model, and with 70 designs under my belt, so far so good.

Leave the Right Legacy

I'd like to see my logo live on in perpetuity after my death. That's the greatest compliment you can have. But my real legacy? It's my kids and my family. They're what's important. What I do outside of them—stuff that I enjoy -- is for me.

Be Happy for Others

I know how hard it is to be successful, so I get elated when others experience it. Like when Adam Scott won the Masters. I was so happy for him that I cried. It comes down to, don't be the jealous guy. Remember, things will outlast you. We're only here for a certain amount of time, so it's important to make decisions that are good for everyone around you, not just you.

Be a Mentor

If somebody asks me for help, I'm going to help them. Years ago back in Australia, Adam Scott came to me with a lot of great questions. Deep questions, like, "What's it like when you get to 40?" I don't lock my door to anybody. And now Adam's off and running, but we still stay in contact. When he won at Augusta National, it felt like I had won! Helping someone achieve their own success is just about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Commit to Golf and Life

Golf teaches you about who you are -- how you deal with failure, how you deal with success, how you deal with humility, how you deal with the public. Most people fail in at least a few areas, so you've got to work at it. I certainly had to. If you truly want to succeed at golf, business, life -- any endeavor -- you have to fully commit to it. It's not enough to only want it. The competition is too heavy. And if you're lucky enough to reach the top of whatever you do, then you actually have to work harder, because everyone underneath is gunning for you. Unfortunately, there's no quit.

Brought to you by4 seasons Country Club

[hamiltongolfcourses]

Greg Norman: All I Know About Winning in Golf, Business and Life

The trek to Greg Norman's getaway in northwest Colorado is a roundabout one. The retreat is tucked away in a remote, evergreen-covered corner of this rugged state, an area so isolated that GPS is little help. An unmarked dirt road runs from the highway to his front door, uncoiling like the rattlesnakes that lurk in the brush. Driving for some 30 minutes, you feel lost. Definitely lost. Then his Rocky Mountain Xanadu appears: a 14,000-square-foot "cabin," two miles of fly-fishing nirvana, and wildlife at every turn. Norman's ranch is as beautiful and seemingly as vast as the snowcapped Rockies that encircle it. It's difficult to fathom how he parlayed "only" 20 PGA Tour wins into this.

Of course, the Shark was chasing much more than just trophies. Like Arnold Palmer before him, Greg Norman oozed charisma, both on and off the course. He bestrode fairways with a swashbuckling, take-no-prisoners (and look good doing it) style that made everyone notice. Prize money? That was chump change. Norman saw a worldwide brand as the ultimate reward, and he has gone on to amass a fortune that has been estimated at $400 million. Sure, there were bumps along the road. Take the well-publicized divorce from his first wife in 2006 that halved his assets (au revoir, $103 million); the heartbreaking near misses in eight majors; his clash with the PGA Tour over his World Tour brainchild, which he calls the low point of his career. But you don't become an icon by surrendering to adversity. "Failure makes you stronger," says Norman, 58, now three years into his third marriage (with interior designer Kirsten Kutner, 45). How strong? Great White Shark Enterprises operates 16 profitable ventures in areas ranging from real-estate development to turf research to prime beef sales. Like his ravenous namesake, the Great White Shark is far from satisfied. He's got big plans. Welcome to the success secrets of a man in full -- the guiding thoughts that helped a kid from Mount Isa, Australia, ascend from a $32-a-week job in a pro shop to the pinnacle of the golf world, and build his brand into a booming international business.

Do Your Homework

I became a good businessman because I was a good golfer. Golf taught me how to practice, formulate a strategy and then execute it -- a due-diligence process that also fuels good business decisions. Some people are naturals at business. I'm not, but I had a great education through golf.

Patience Is Underrated

I signed my first contract with Reebok in 1989. Paul Fireman, Reebok's CEO, had a dream for me, but eventually structured the deal so I could function as my own brand. That was huge. The more independent you can be in life, the better. But since I didn't have a lot of marketing or branding knowledge at the time, I was patient. I didn't go for the quick buck. I focused only on how big it could become. I'm lucky in that I have pretty good long-term vision. Why do I have it? I don't know. But here we are decades later -- and I've only reached 20 percent of what this company is capable of achieving.

I was a different person on the course. I wasn't as patient, because I didn't have to be. I knew everything about the game and was super-confident in my abilities. I played by the sword and died by it. Would I have changed some things about my game knowing what success in business has taught me? It's something that I'd consider. But don't get me wrong -- I have zero regrets.

Winning Is About Heart

A lot of people ask how I'd stack up against today's players if I had use of modern equipment. Listen, it's not about the gear. Winning is about what's in your heart and in your head. Equipment dictates how to play the game in an era, but the physical and mental skills are the same. And I had them. I never feared anything or anyone on the course, and I wasn't afraid to fail. So I think I'd do pretty well against Snead, Hogan, Tiger and Phil -- whoever. Tiger's a tough guy, but I was a tough guy on the course, too. I probably would have beat him.

Never Blame Your Tools

The best are always going to be the best, no matter what you chuck in their bag. Send five guys out on Augusta National with hickory-shafted clubs and gutta-percha balls, and the guy with the most talent will always win. Technology allows you to extract certain things from your equipment, but how you extract it is dependent upon your ability to swing the club. Science can only take you so far.

The Secret's in the Shaft

When I was young I read a lot of articles by Ben Hogan. He wrote pages on the stiffness and torque he used in his shafts. I remember thinking, Sh-t! I need to figure this out. I spent a lot of time trying different shafts and, when I found a good match, making sure the spine was set in the same place on every club. I got it right, so I can't figure out why today's pros can't do likewise. Take Rory [McIlory]. It's absurd to say he has gear issues. It's so easy to re-create the same specs and feel from one set to the next. Something else is going on [with him].

Play Within Your Limits

The biggest difference between weekend players and pros? Let's say we're both 100 yards from the pin -- a sand wedge for me and a gap wedge for you. I'll use my pitching wedge and swing at 70 percent. You'll hit your gap wedge at 100 percent. And you'll lose. Weekend players go for broke while pros look for a way to play the minimum.

Play with Precision

When I was playing my best, my caddie, Bruce Edwards, would give me half yardages -- as in, "Greg, you've got 147 and a half yards to the pin." Sounds extreme, but a half-yard is 18 inches, which often means the difference between "good chance" and "no chance" on the ensuing putt. Spend time getting to know your distances and how to be precise with them on the fly. You may not realize it, but the distance you hit the ball changes with the atmosphere. Those humid early-morning rounds? You're going to lose yards. Similarly, the ball will jump when it's hot or dry. Guys can drive it 300 yards today without blinking an eye, but it's still a precision game.

Keep Your Swing Simple

There are a lot of moving parts in the swing, but you can't worry about each and every one. Charlie Earp, my first coach, taught me to always keep the triangle formed by my shoulders and grip in front of my body, from start to finish. If you maintain the triangle as you rotate, everything else falls into place. I've used this tip for 35 years. Hold the triangle, get the club parallel at the top, then let 'er rip (see sequence, below).

Listen to Your Body

The last time you saw me on TV was probably during the 2008 British Open at Royal Birkdale, where I had the 54-hole lead before finishing third. That wasn't the swing you saw in the 1980s and '90s. My stance is wider now, and I stop my backswing short of parallel. I have to. My body can't take the stress of rotating anymore.

I used to be super-flexible -- I could even do splits. It was the source of my power, but it allowed me to overrotate. I developed so many stress fractures in my spine that I ended up needing surgery. Butch Harmon was the one to get me to widen my stance, which automatically limits rotation. I fought him at first, but then listened to what Mother Nature was telling me. And I darn near won that Open.

Golf places severe pressure on your joints, so you either have to take excellent care of your body or find a swing that isn't so taxing. We get older and more frail. That's life.

Find a Confidence Boost

Success breeds success. I started playing golf at age 16, and by the time I was 21 I was competing in professional events. I knew I was good, but I didn't know how good until the 1976 West Lakes Classic, an Australian Tour event held at the Grange G.C. in Adelaide. I was a complete nobody, and the field had Bruce Devlin, Bruce Crampton, David Graham, and a couple of guys from the PGA Tour. By the end of the third round I had a 10-shot lead. That was it for me. I knew right then and there that I could be great. Everyone needs a shot of confidence, and my victory at the Grange -- the first of 89 pro wins -- was it.

Build a Swing Foundation

I went from novice to scratch in two years. I was lucky in that the things I liked to do before I got into golf, mainly surfing, established foundations for my game. Surfing develops your core, lat muscles and shoulders -- the engines of your swing. Plus it gives you balance. When you're riding a wave your proprioceptors [sensory receptors that detect body position] are firing on all cylinders -- you learn balance very quickly. I've talked about how surfing helps your swing with [pro surfer] Kelly Slater. Kelly loves golf, and we agree that surfing makes you a better player. One moment you're perfectly calm waiting for a wave, and the next you're firing up and dropping in, just like when you're on the tee box getting ready to hit a shot. If you don't surf, try swimming. It works.

Use Strategy, Not Emotion

I was an aggressive golfer, but I always knew the stakes. I got a feel for it during the gambling games I got into while training to be a professional under Charlie Earp at Royal Queensland. I was only 20 at the time, and Charlie was paying me $32 a week, so gambling was a necessary second income. I played against a lot of members. During one match, my partner, Cyril King, and I went down $800 after 16 holes. I didn't have $8 to my name, let alone $800, but I knew No. 17 was a par 5 and 18 was a tough par 4 -- a huge advantage for Cyril and me against our older opponents. We went double or nothing, and actually took home money after I finished eagle-birdie. Had 17 been a short par 3 and 18 a manageable par 4? Who knows if we would have doubled-down? But our decision was strategy-based, not an emotional one. Aggressive for sure, but also smart.

Find Your Happy Place

In 1986 I became the first player to win $1 million in a season. Some of the guys thought it was crazy money, but now you get $1 million for winning the Shriners [the Las Vegas Tour event]. So "crazy" is relative, but the Tour has set things up to let even halfway decent players make a comfy living. That was never my style. I saw endorsements, branding and business opportunities as the real trophies, and you can only get them when you're at the very top. The downside to becoming a brand is that everything I say or do gets scrutinized, and it can either hurt or help your business. So I watch my step and watch what I say. It's tough, but I wouldn't change it for the world. That's why I love being here [in Colorado]. I can do the things I like most and, well, disappear.

Broaden Your Horizons

I played professionally for seven years before taking my game to the U.S. I was anxious to play on the PGA Tour, but I felt I needed a world view before I could become dominant. So after playing in Australia, I toured in Asia and then Europe. You learn a lot when you're outside the Western world, the most important thing being how different people perceive you based on their culture, religion and ethics. It's a huge influence on the way I am today. The experience was a force that allowed me to succeed in America. It was a long road, so I consider my win at the 1984 Kemper Open as one of the highlights of my career. I had seen the world, won everywhere I went, and now I was doing it in the States. It was the moment I had officially arrived.

Be Open to New Ideas (Even If They're Not Yours)

The abyss of my professional career was my run-in with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem over the World Tour, my idea for an international series of tournaments. It was a beautiful plan and good for golf. I had the support of numerous marquee players, a lucrative TV contract in place, and most important, I had structured it so that the players owned it. I've always believed that if you help build equity in something, you should receive some of the spoils. Unfortunately, Finchem and the media ripped me to shreds. They said I was trying to ruin the game. It got so bad that a lot of PGA club pros who carried Greg Norman Collection [clothes] began canceling their contracts. I was devastated, but I was so sure of the World Tour's promise that I called each one of them to explain my side of the story, because I was never offered the chance to do so with the PGA Tour. It took weeks. I asked each one to hear me out and draw his own conclusions. Everyone kept their contract. My tour never got off the ground, yet three years later the PGA Tour launched the World Golf Championships. I guess they didn't like the fact that it wasn't their idea.

It's poor policy to slay the dreamer just because he or she came up with a better plan. It's so against how I do things. If you came to me with something great that I had never thought of, I'd say, "Are you okay, or do you want help? Should we joint-venture?" If the answer is "no," I'm still going to support you, because your idea is fantastic. It didn't happen that way with Finchem and, honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't do certain things in golf anymore. I haven't played in a PGA-sanctioned event in 18 months. I don't see a reason to support an entity that tried to destroy my dream.

Find a Family Bond

Fostering common interests makes everything easier. Our family likes to do the same things, and I think that's what keeps us strong. We're big scuba people. My daughter, Morgan, is a master diver. We've been all over the world, and having that time with my kids has been huge. You can't sit around the house and do nothing. And it's not just with your children. My wife, Kiki [Kirsten], loves coming to the ranch as much as I do. Our shared interests make us closer.

A caveat: Let your kids find themselves in sport. You can't smother them like I see a lot of parents do. It's okay to be there on the periphery, but kids should develop on their own. They'll resent you if you play too heavy a hand.

Seize the Day

I've recently launched the Great White Shark Opportunity Fund, an asset-based financing company that helps small businesses. I never imagined doing such a thing, but with some of the things going on economically throughout the world, we saw an opportunity. I could have left it alone, but opportunity may not always be there. You have to at least consider ideas when they come across your desk. At the very least, consider the potential.

My first coach, Charlie Earp, had a phrase: "DIN & DIP." It means "Do It Now and Do It Properly," and it's the best piece of advice that's ever been lent to me or that I've passed along. If you have a task, commit to it, get it done, and then move on to the next challenge.

Think Vertically

My goal is to grow my brand on a global basis. I'm a fan of what Ralph Lauren has done with Polo and the horse logo. He built a brand, then pushed it in every direction. Lauren thinks vertically, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My course-design business holds the key. When someone comes to me with millions or even tens of millions of dollars to design a course as part of a real-estate development or resort, I know I can leverage it by, say, stocking the cellars with my wine, the pro shop with Greg Norman Collection clothing, the kitchen with my Greg Norman Australian Prime steaks. They're already investing in the value of my brand, so why not add some scale to it? I think it's a great model, and with 70 designs under my belt, so far so good.

Leave the Right Legacy

I'd like to see my logo live on in perpetuity after my death. That's the greatest compliment you can have. But my real legacy? It's my kids and my family. They're what's important. What I do outside of them—stuff that I enjoy -- is for me.

Be Happy for Others

I know how hard it is to be successful, so I get elated when others experience it. Like when Adam Scott won the Masters. I was so happy for him that I cried. It comes down to, don't be the jealous guy. Remember, things will outlast you. We're only here for a certain amount of time, so it's important to make decisions that are good for everyone around you, not just you.

Be a Mentor

If somebody asks me for help, I'm going to help them. Years ago back in Australia, Adam Scott came to me with a lot of great questions. Deep questions, like, "What's it like when you get to 40?" I don't lock my door to anybody. And now Adam's off and running, but we still stay in contact. When he won at Augusta National, it felt like I had won! Helping someone achieve their own success is just about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Commit to Golf and Life

Golf teaches you about who you are -- how you deal with failure, how you deal with success, how you deal with humility, how you deal with the public. Most people fail in at least a few areas, so you've got to work at it. I certainly had to. If you truly want to succeed at golf, business, life -- any endeavor -- you have to fully commit to it. It's not enough to only want it. The competition is too heavy. And if you're lucky enough to reach the top of whatever you do, then you actually have to work harder, because everyone underneath is gunning for you. Unfortunately, there's no quit.

Brought to you by Southern Pines Golf & CC

[elmiragc]

Greg Norman: All I Know About Winning in Golf, Business and Life

The trek to Greg Norman's getaway in northwest Colorado is a roundabout one. The retreat is tucked away in a remote, evergreen-covered corner of this rugged state, an area so isolated that GPS is little help. An unmarked dirt road runs from the highway to his front door, uncoiling like the rattlesnakes that lurk in the brush. Driving for some 30 minutes, you feel lost. Definitely lost. Then his Rocky Mountain Xanadu appears: a 14,000-square-foot "cabin," two miles of fly-fishing nirvana, and wildlife at every turn. Norman's ranch is as beautiful and seemingly as vast as the snowcapped Rockies that encircle it. It's difficult to fathom how he parlayed "only" 20 PGA Tour wins into this.

Of course, the Shark was chasing much more than just trophies. Like Arnold Palmer before him, Greg Norman oozed charisma, both on and off the course. He bestrode fairways with a swashbuckling, take-no-prisoners (and look good doing it) style that made everyone notice. Prize money? That was chump change. Norman saw a worldwide brand as the ultimate reward, and he has gone on to amass a fortune that has been estimated at $400 million. Sure, there were bumps along the road. Take the well-publicized divorce from his first wife in 2006 that halved his assets (au revoir, $103 million); the heartbreaking near misses in eight majors; his clash with the PGA Tour over his World Tour brainchild, which he calls the low point of his career. But you don't become an icon by surrendering to adversity. "Failure makes you stronger," says Norman, 58, now three years into his third marriage (with interior designer Kirsten Kutner, 45). How strong? Great White Shark Enterprises operates 16 profitable ventures in areas ranging from real-estate development to turf research to prime beef sales. Like his ravenous namesake, the Great White Shark is far from satisfied. He's got big plans. Welcome to the success secrets of a man in full -- the guiding thoughts that helped a kid from Mount Isa, Australia, ascend from a $32-a-week job in a pro shop to the pinnacle of the golf world, and build his brand into a booming international business.

Do Your Homework

I became a good businessman because I was a good golfer. Golf taught me how to practice, formulate a strategy and then execute it -- a due-diligence process that also fuels good business decisions. Some people are naturals at business. I'm not, but I had a great education through golf.

Patience Is Underrated

I signed my first contract with Reebok in 1989. Paul Fireman, Reebok's CEO, had a dream for me, but eventually structured the deal so I could function as my own brand. That was huge. The more independent you can be in life, the better. But since I didn't have a lot of marketing or branding knowledge at the time, I was patient. I didn't go for the quick buck. I focused only on how big it could become. I'm lucky in that I have pretty good long-term vision. Why do I have it? I don't know. But here we are decades later -- and I've only reached 20 percent of what this company is capable of achieving.

I was a different person on the course. I wasn't as patient, because I didn't have to be. I knew everything about the game and was super-confident in my abilities. I played by the sword and died by it. Would I have changed some things about my game knowing what success in business has taught me? It's something that I'd consider. But don't get me wrong -- I have zero regrets.

Winning Is About Heart

A lot of people ask how I'd stack up against today's players if I had use of modern equipment. Listen, it's not about the gear. Winning is about what's in your heart and in your head. Equipment dictates how to play the game in an era, but the physical and mental skills are the same. And I had them. I never feared anything or anyone on the course, and I wasn't afraid to fail. So I think I'd do pretty well against Snead, Hogan, Tiger and Phil -- whoever. Tiger's a tough guy, but I was a tough guy on the course, too. I probably would have beat him.

Never Blame Your Tools

The best are always going to be the best, no matter what you chuck in their bag. Send five guys out on Augusta National with hickory-shafted clubs and gutta-percha balls, and the guy with the most talent will always win. Technology allows you to extract certain things from your equipment, but how you extract it is dependent upon your ability to swing the club. Science can only take you so far.

The Secret's in the Shaft

When I was young I read a lot of articles by Ben Hogan. He wrote pages on the stiffness and torque he used in his shafts. I remember thinking, Sh-t! I need to figure this out. I spent a lot of time trying different shafts and, when I found a good match, making sure the spine was set in the same place on every club. I got it right, so I can't figure out why today's pros can't do likewise. Take Rory [McIlory]. It's absurd to say he has gear issues. It's so easy to re-create the same specs and feel from one set to the next. Something else is going on [with him].

Play Within Your Limits

The biggest difference between weekend players and pros? Let's say we're both 100 yards from the pin -- a sand wedge for me and a gap wedge for you. I'll use my pitching wedge and swing at 70 percent. You'll hit your gap wedge at 100 percent. And you'll lose. Weekend players go for broke while pros look for a way to play the minimum.

Play with Precision

When I was playing my best, my caddie, Bruce Edwards, would give me half yardages -- as in, "Greg, you've got 147 and a half yards to the pin." Sounds extreme, but a half-yard is 18 inches, which often means the difference between "good chance" and "no chance" on the ensuing putt. Spend time getting to know your distances and how to be precise with them on the fly. You may not realize it, but the distance you hit the ball changes with the atmosphere. Those humid early-morning rounds? You're going to lose yards. Similarly, the ball will jump when it's hot or dry. Guys can drive it 300 yards today without blinking an eye, but it's still a precision game.

Keep Your Swing Simple

There are a lot of moving parts in the swing, but you can't worry about each and every one. Charlie Earp, my first coach, taught me to always keep the triangle formed by my shoulders and grip in front of my body, from start to finish. If you maintain the triangle as you rotate, everything else falls into place. I've used this tip for 35 years. Hold the triangle, get the club parallel at the top, then let 'er rip (see sequence, below).

Listen to Your Body

The last time you saw me on TV was probably during the 2008 British Open at Royal Birkdale, where I had the 54-hole lead before finishing third. That wasn't the swing you saw in the 1980s and '90s. My stance is wider now, and I stop my backswing short of parallel. I have to. My body can't take the stress of rotating anymore.

I used to be super-flexible -- I could even do splits. It was the source of my power, but it allowed me to overrotate. I developed so many stress fractures in my spine that I ended up needing surgery. Butch Harmon was the one to get me to widen my stance, which automatically limits rotation. I fought him at first, but then listened to what Mother Nature was telling me. And I darn near won that Open.

Golf places severe pressure on your joints, so you either have to take excellent care of your body or find a swing that isn't so taxing. We get older and more frail. That's life.

Find a Confidence Boost

Success breeds success. I started playing golf at age 16, and by the time I was 21 I was competing in professional events. I knew I was good, but I didn't know how good until the 1976 West Lakes Classic, an Australian Tour event held at the Grange G.C. in Adelaide. I was a complete nobody, and the field had Bruce Devlin, Bruce Crampton, David Graham, and a couple of guys from the PGA Tour. By the end of the third round I had a 10-shot lead. That was it for me. I knew right then and there that I could be great. Everyone needs a shot of confidence, and my victory at the Grange -- the first of 89 pro wins -- was it.

Build a Swing Foundation

I went from novice to scratch in two years. I was lucky in that the things I liked to do before I got into golf, mainly surfing, established foundations for my game. Surfing develops your core, lat muscles and shoulders -- the engines of your swing. Plus it gives you balance. When you're riding a wave your proprioceptors [sensory receptors that detect body position] are firing on all cylinders -- you learn balance very quickly. I've talked about how surfing helps your swing with [pro surfer] Kelly Slater. Kelly loves golf, and we agree that surfing makes you a better player. One moment you're perfectly calm waiting for a wave, and the next you're firing up and dropping in, just like when you're on the tee box getting ready to hit a shot. If you don't surf, try swimming. It works.

Use Strategy, Not Emotion

I was an aggressive golfer, but I always knew the stakes. I got a feel for it during the gambling games I got into while training to be a professional under Charlie Earp at Royal Queensland. I was only 20 at the time, and Charlie was paying me $32 a week, so gambling was a necessary second income. I played against a lot of members. During one match, my partner, Cyril King, and I went down $800 after 16 holes. I didn't have $8 to my name, let alone $800, but I knew No. 17 was a par 5 and 18 was a tough par 4 -- a huge advantage for Cyril and me against our older opponents. We went double or nothing, and actually took home money after I finished eagle-birdie. Had 17 been a short par 3 and 18 a manageable par 4? Who knows if we would have doubled-down? But our decision was strategy-based, not an emotional one. Aggressive for sure, but also smart.

Find Your Happy Place

In 1986 I became the first player to win $1 million in a season. Some of the guys thought it was crazy money, but now you get $1 million for winning the Shriners [the Las Vegas Tour event]. So "crazy" is relative, but the Tour has set things up to let even halfway decent players make a comfy living. That was never my style. I saw endorsements, branding and business opportunities as the real trophies, and you can only get them when you're at the very top. The downside to becoming a brand is that everything I say or do gets scrutinized, and it can either hurt or help your business. So I watch my step and watch what I say. It's tough, but I wouldn't change it for the world. That's why I love being here [in Colorado]. I can do the things I like most and, well, disappear.

Broaden Your Horizons

I played professionally for seven years before taking my game to the U.S. I was anxious to play on the PGA Tour, but I felt I needed a world view before I could become dominant. So after playing in Australia, I toured in Asia and then Europe. You learn a lot when you're outside the Western world, the most important thing being how different people perceive you based on their culture, religion and ethics. It's a huge influence on the way I am today. The experience was a force that allowed me to succeed in America. It was a long road, so I consider my win at the 1984 Kemper Open as one of the highlights of my career. I had seen the world, won everywhere I went, and now I was doing it in the States. It was the moment I had officially arrived.

Be Open to New Ideas (Even If They're Not Yours)

The abyss of my professional career was my run-in with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem over the World Tour, my idea for an international series of tournaments. It was a beautiful plan and good for golf. I had the support of numerous marquee players, a lucrative TV contract in place, and most important, I had structured it so that the players owned it. I've always believed that if you help build equity in something, you should receive some of the spoils. Unfortunately, Finchem and the media ripped me to shreds. They said I was trying to ruin the game. It got so bad that a lot of PGA club pros who carried Greg Norman Collection [clothes] began canceling their contracts. I was devastated, but I was so sure of the World Tour's promise that I called each one of them to explain my side of the story, because I was never offered the chance to do so with the PGA Tour. It took weeks. I asked each one to hear me out and draw his own conclusions. Everyone kept their contract. My tour never got off the ground, yet three years later the PGA Tour launched the World Golf Championships. I guess they didn't like the fact that it wasn't their idea.

It's poor policy to slay the dreamer just because he or she came up with a better plan. It's so against how I do things. If you came to me with something great that I had never thought of, I'd say, "Are you okay, or do you want help? Should we joint-venture?" If the answer is "no," I'm still going to support you, because your idea is fantastic. It didn't happen that way with Finchem and, honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't do certain things in golf anymore. I haven't played in a PGA-sanctioned event in 18 months. I don't see a reason to support an entity that tried to destroy my dream.

Find a Family Bond

Fostering common interests makes everything easier. Our family likes to do the same things, and I think that's what keeps us strong. We're big scuba people. My daughter, Morgan, is a master diver. We've been all over the world, and having that time with my kids has been huge. You can't sit around the house and do nothing. And it's not just with your children. My wife, Kiki [Kirsten], loves coming to the ranch as much as I do. Our shared interests make us closer.

A caveat: Let your kids find themselves in sport. You can't smother them like I see a lot of parents do. It's okay to be there on the periphery, but kids should develop on their own. They'll resent you if you play too heavy a hand.

Seize the Day

I've recently launched the Great White Shark Opportunity Fund, an asset-based financing company that helps small businesses. I never imagined doing such a thing, but with some of the things going on economically throughout the world, we saw an opportunity. I could have left it alone, but opportunity may not always be there. You have to at least consider ideas when they come across your desk. At the very least, consider the potential.

My first coach, Charlie Earp, had a phrase: "DIN & DIP." It means "Do It Now and Do It Properly," and it's the best piece of advice that's ever been lent to me or that I've passed along. If you have a task, commit to it, get it done, and then move on to the next challenge.

Think Vertically

My goal is to grow my brand on a global basis. I'm a fan of what Ralph Lauren has done with Polo and the horse logo. He built a brand, then pushed it in every direction. Lauren thinks vertically, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My course-design business holds the key. When someone comes to me with millions or even tens of millions of dollars to design a course as part of a real-estate development or resort, I know I can leverage it by, say, stocking the cellars with my wine, the pro shop with Greg Norman Collection clothing, the kitchen with my Greg Norman Australian Prime steaks. They're already investing in the value of my brand, so why not add some scale to it? I think it's a great model, and with 70 designs under my belt, so far so good.

Leave the Right Legacy

I'd like to see my logo live on in perpetuity after my death. That's the greatest compliment you can have. But my real legacy? It's my kids and my family. They're what's important. What I do outside of them—stuff that I enjoy -- is for me.

Be Happy for Others

I know how hard it is to be successful, so I get elated when others experience it. Like when Adam Scott won the Masters. I was so happy for him that I cried. It comes down to, don't be the jealous guy. Remember, things will outlast you. We're only here for a certain amount of time, so it's important to make decisions that are good for everyone around you, not just you.

Be a Mentor

If somebody asks me for help, I'm going to help them. Years ago back in Australia, Adam Scott came to me with a lot of great questions. Deep questions, like, "What's it like when you get to 40?" I don't lock my door to anybody. And now Adam's off and running, but we still stay in contact. When he won at Augusta National, it felt like I had won! Helping someone achieve their own success is just about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Commit to Golf and Life

Golf teaches you about who you are -- how you deal with failure, how you deal with success, how you deal with humility, how you deal with the public. Most people fail in at least a few areas, so you've got to work at it. I certainly had to. If you truly want to succeed at golf, business, life -- any endeavor -- you have to fully commit to it. It's not enough to only want it. The competition is too heavy. And if you're lucky enough to reach the top of whatever you do, then you actually have to work harder, because everyone underneath is gunning for you. Unfortunately, there's no quit.

Brought to you by Elmira Golf Club

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Greg Norman: All I Know About Winning in Golf, Business and Life

The trek to Greg Norman's getaway in northwest Colorado is a roundabout one. The retreat is tucked away in a remote, evergreen-covered corner of this rugged state, an area so isolated that GPS is little help. An unmarked dirt road runs from the highway to his front door, uncoiling like the rattlesnakes that lurk in the brush. Driving for some 30 minutes, you feel lost. Definitely lost. Then his Rocky Mountain Xanadu appears: a 14,000-square-foot "cabin," two miles of fly-fishing nirvana, and wildlife at every turn. Norman's ranch is as beautiful and seemingly as vast as the snowcapped Rockies that encircle it. It's difficult to fathom how he parlayed "only" 20 PGA Tour wins into this.

Of course, the Shark was chasing much more than just trophies. Like Arnold Palmer before him, Greg Norman oozed charisma, both on and off the course. He bestrode fairways with a swashbuckling, take-no-prisoners (and look good doing it) style that made everyone notice. Prize money? That was chump change. Norman saw a worldwide brand as the ultimate reward, and he has gone on to amass a fortune that has been estimated at $400 million. Sure, there were bumps along the road. Take the well-publicized divorce from his first wife in 2006 that halved his assets (au revoir, $103 million); the heartbreaking near misses in eight majors; his clash with the PGA Tour over his World Tour brainchild, which he calls the low point of his career. But you don't become an icon by surrendering to adversity. "Failure makes you stronger," says Norman, 58, now three years into his third marriage (with interior designer Kirsten Kutner, 45). How strong? Great White Shark Enterprises operates 16 profitable ventures in areas ranging from real-estate development to turf research to prime beef sales. Like his ravenous namesake, the Great White Shark is far from satisfied. He's got big plans. Welcome to the success secrets of a man in full -- the guiding thoughts that helped a kid from Mount Isa, Australia, ascend from a $32-a-week job in a pro shop to the pinnacle of the golf world, and build his brand into a booming international business.

Do Your Homework

I became a good businessman because I was a good golfer. Golf taught me how to practice, formulate a strategy and then execute it -- a due-diligence process that also fuels good business decisions. Some people are naturals at business. I'm not, but I had a great education through golf.

Patience Is Underrated

I signed my first contract with Reebok in 1989. Paul Fireman, Reebok's CEO, had a dream for me, but eventually structured the deal so I could function as my own brand. That was huge. The more independent you can be in life, the better. But since I didn't have a lot of marketing or branding knowledge at the time, I was patient. I didn't go for the quick buck. I focused only on how big it could become. I'm lucky in that I have pretty good long-term vision. Why do I have it? I don't know. But here we are decades later -- and I've only reached 20 percent of what this company is capable of achieving.

I was a different person on the course. I wasn't as patient, because I didn't have to be. I knew everything about the game and was super-confident in my abilities. I played by the sword and died by it. Would I have changed some things about my game knowing what success in business has taught me? It's something that I'd consider. But don't get me wrong -- I have zero regrets.

Winning Is About Heart

A lot of people ask how I'd stack up against today's players if I had use of modern equipment. Listen, it's not about the gear. Winning is about what's in your heart and in your head. Equipment dictates how to play the game in an era, but the physical and mental skills are the same. And I had them. I never feared anything or anyone on the course, and I wasn't afraid to fail. So I think I'd do pretty well against Snead, Hogan, Tiger and Phil -- whoever. Tiger's a tough guy, but I was a tough guy on the course, too. I probably would have beat him.

Never Blame Your Tools

The best are always going to be the best, no matter what you chuck in their bag. Send five guys out on Augusta National with hickory-shafted clubs and gutta-percha balls, and the guy with the most talent will always win. Technology allows you to extract certain things from your equipment, but how you extract it is dependent upon your ability to swing the club. Science can only take you so far.

The Secret's in the Shaft

When I was young I read a lot of articles by Ben Hogan. He wrote pages on the stiffness and torque he used in his shafts. I remember thinking, Sh-t! I need to figure this out. I spent a lot of time trying different shafts and, when I found a good match, making sure the spine was set in the same place on every club. I got it right, so I can't figure out why today's pros can't do likewise. Take Rory [McIlory]. It's absurd to say he has gear issues. It's so easy to re-create the same specs and feel from one set to the next. Something else is going on [with him].

Play Within Your Limits

The biggest difference between weekend players and pros? Let's say we're both 100 yards from the pin -- a sand wedge for me and a gap wedge for you. I'll use my pitching wedge and swing at 70 percent. You'll hit your gap wedge at 100 percent. And you'll lose. Weekend players go for broke while pros look for a way to play the minimum.

Play with Precision

When I was playing my best, my caddie, Bruce Edwards, would give me half yardages -- as in, "Greg, you've got 147 and a half yards to the pin." Sounds extreme, but a half-yard is 18 inches, which often means the difference between "good chance" and "no chance" on the ensuing putt. Spend time getting to know your distances and how to be precise with them on the fly. You may not realize it, but the distance you hit the ball changes with the atmosphere. Those humid early-morning rounds? You're going to lose yards. Similarly, the ball will jump when it's hot or dry. Guys can drive it 300 yards today without blinking an eye, but it's still a precision game.

Keep Your Swing Simple

There are a lot of moving parts in the swing, but you can't worry about each and every one. Charlie Earp, my first coach, taught me to always keep the triangle formed by my shoulders and grip in front of my body, from start to finish. If you maintain the triangle as you rotate, everything else falls into place. I've used this tip for 35 years. Hold the triangle, get the club parallel at the top, then let 'er rip (see sequence, below).

Listen to Your Body

The last time you saw me on TV was probably during the 2008 British Open at Royal Birkdale, where I had the 54-hole lead before finishing third. That wasn't the swing you saw in the 1980s and '90s. My stance is wider now, and I stop my backswing short of parallel. I have to. My body can't take the stress of rotating anymore.

I used to be super-flexible -- I could even do splits. It was the source of my power, but it allowed me to overrotate. I developed so many stress fractures in my spine that I ended up needing surgery. Butch Harmon was the one to get me to widen my stance, which automatically limits rotation. I fought him at first, but then listened to what Mother Nature was telling me. And I darn near won that Open.

Golf places severe pressure on your joints, so you either have to take excellent care of your body or find a swing that isn't so taxing. We get older and more frail. That's life.

Find a Confidence Boost

Success breeds success. I started playing golf at age 16, and by the time I was 21 I was competing in professional events. I knew I was good, but I didn't know how good until the 1976 West Lakes Classic, an Australian Tour event held at the Grange G.C. in Adelaide. I was a complete nobody, and the field had Bruce Devlin, Bruce Crampton, David Graham, and a couple of guys from the PGA Tour. By the end of the third round I had a 10-shot lead. That was it for me. I knew right then and there that I could be great. Everyone needs a shot of confidence, and my victory at the Grange -- the first of 89 pro wins -- was it.

Build a Swing Foundation

I went from novice to scratch in two years. I was lucky in that the things I liked to do before I got into golf, mainly surfing, established foundations for my game. Surfing develops your core, lat muscles and shoulders -- the engines of your swing. Plus it gives you balance. When you're riding a wave your proprioceptors [sensory receptors that detect body position] are firing on all cylinders -- you learn balance very quickly. I've talked about how surfing helps your swing with [pro surfer] Kelly Slater. Kelly loves golf, and we agree that surfing makes you a better player. One moment you're perfectly calm waiting for a wave, and the next you're firing up and dropping in, just like when you're on the tee box getting ready to hit a shot. If you don't surf, try swimming. It works.

Use Strategy, Not Emotion

I was an aggressive golfer, but I always knew the stakes. I got a feel for it during the gambling games I got into while training to be a professional under Charlie Earp at Royal Queensland. I was only 20 at the time, and Charlie was paying me $32 a week, so gambling was a necessary second income. I played against a lot of members. During one match, my partner, Cyril King, and I went down $800 after 16 holes. I didn't have $8 to my name, let alone $800, but I knew No. 17 was a par 5 and 18 was a tough par 4 -- a huge advantage for Cyril and me against our older opponents. We went double or nothing, and actually took home money after I finished eagle-birdie. Had 17 been a short par 3 and 18 a manageable par 4? Who knows if we would have doubled-down? But our decision was strategy-based, not an emotional one. Aggressive for sure, but also smart.

Find Your Happy Place

In 1986 I became the first player to win $1 million in a season. Some of the guys thought it was crazy money, but now you get $1 million for winning the Shriners [the Las Vegas Tour event]. So "crazy" is relative, but the Tour has set things up to let even halfway decent players make a comfy living. That was never my style. I saw endorsements, branding and business opportunities as the real trophies, and you can only get them when you're at the very top. The downside to becoming a brand is that everything I say or do gets scrutinized, and it can either hurt or help your business. So I watch my step and watch what I say. It's tough, but I wouldn't change it for the world. That's why I love being here [in Colorado]. I can do the things I like most and, well, disappear.

Broaden Your Horizons

I played professionally for seven years before taking my game to the U.S. I was anxious to play on the PGA Tour, but I felt I needed a world view before I could become dominant. So after playing in Australia, I toured in Asia and then Europe. You learn a lot when you're outside the Western world, the most important thing being how different people perceive you based on their culture, religion and ethics. It's a huge influence on the way I am today. The experience was a force that allowed me to succeed in America. It was a long road, so I consider my win at the 1984 Kemper Open as one of the highlights of my career. I had seen the world, won everywhere I went, and now I was doing it in the States. It was the moment I had officially arrived.

Be Open to New Ideas (Even If They're Not Yours)

The abyss of my professional career was my run-in with PGA Tour commissioner Tim Finchem over the World Tour, my idea for an international series of tournaments. It was a beautiful plan and good for golf. I had the support of numerous marquee players, a lucrative TV contract in place, and most important, I had structured it so that the players owned it. I've always believed that if you help build equity in something, you should receive some of the spoils. Unfortunately, Finchem and the media ripped me to shreds. They said I was trying to ruin the game. It got so bad that a lot of PGA club pros who carried Greg Norman Collection [clothes] began canceling their contracts. I was devastated, but I was so sure of the World Tour's promise that I called each one of them to explain my side of the story, because I was never offered the chance to do so with the PGA Tour. It took weeks. I asked each one to hear me out and draw his own conclusions. Everyone kept their contract. My tour never got off the ground, yet three years later the PGA Tour launched the World Golf Championships. I guess they didn't like the fact that it wasn't their idea.

It's poor policy to slay the dreamer just because he or she came up with a better plan. It's so against how I do things. If you came to me with something great that I had never thought of, I'd say, "Are you okay, or do you want help? Should we joint-venture?" If the answer is "no," I'm still going to support you, because your idea is fantastic. It didn't happen that way with Finchem and, honestly, it's one of the reasons I don't do certain things in golf anymore. I haven't played in a PGA-sanctioned event in 18 months. I don't see a reason to support an entity that tried to destroy my dream.

Find a Family Bond

Fostering common interests makes everything easier. Our family likes to do the same things, and I think that's what keeps us strong. We're big scuba people. My daughter, Morgan, is a master diver. We've been all over the world, and having that time with my kids has been huge. You can't sit around the house and do nothing. And it's not just with your children. My wife, Kiki [Kirsten], loves coming to the ranch as much as I do. Our shared interests make us closer.

A caveat: Let your kids find themselves in sport. You can't smother them like I see a lot of parents do. It's okay to be there on the periphery, but kids should develop on their own. They'll resent you if you play too heavy a hand.

Seize the Day

I've recently launched the Great White Shark Opportunity Fund, an asset-based financing company that helps small businesses. I never imagined doing such a thing, but with some of the things going on economically throughout the world, we saw an opportunity. I could have left it alone, but opportunity may not always be there. You have to at least consider ideas when they come across your desk. At the very least, consider the potential.

My first coach, Charlie Earp, had a phrase: "DIN & DIP." It means "Do It Now and Do It Properly," and it's the best piece of advice that's ever been lent to me or that I've passed along. If you have a task, commit to it, get it done, and then move on to the next challenge.

Think Vertically

My goal is to grow my brand on a global basis. I'm a fan of what Ralph Lauren has done with Polo and the horse logo. He built a brand, then pushed it in every direction. Lauren thinks vertically, and that's what I'm trying to do.

My course-design business holds the key. When someone comes to me with millions or even tens of millions of dollars to design a course as part of a real-estate development or resort, I know I can leverage it by, say, stocking the cellars with my wine, the pro shop with Greg Norman Collection clothing, the kitchen with my Greg Norman Australian Prime steaks. They're already investing in the value of my brand, so why not add some scale to it? I think it's a great model, and with 70 designs under my belt, so far so good.

Leave the Right Legacy

I'd like to see my logo live on in perpetuity after my death. That's the greatest compliment you can have. But my real legacy? It's my kids and my family. They're what's important. What I do outside of them—stuff that I enjoy -- is for me.

Be Happy for Others

I know how hard it is to be successful, so I get elated when others experience it. Like when Adam Scott won the Masters. I was so happy for him that I cried. It comes down to, don't be the jealous guy. Remember, things will outlast you. We're only here for a certain amount of time, so it's important to make decisions that are good for everyone around you, not just you.

Be a Mentor

If somebody asks me for help, I'm going to help them. Years ago back in Australia, Adam Scott came to me with a lot of great questions. Deep questions, like, "What's it like when you get to 40?" I don't lock my door to anybody. And now Adam's off and running, but we still stay in contact. When he won at Augusta National, it felt like I had won! Helping someone achieve their own success is just about the most rewarding thing you can do.

Commit to Golf and Life

Golf teaches you about who you are -- how you deal with failure, how you deal with success, how you deal with humility, how you deal with the public. Most people fail in at least a few areas, so you've got to work at it. I certainly had to. If you truly want to succeed at golf, business, life -- any endeavor -- you have to fully commit to it. It's not enough to only want it. The competition is too heavy. And if you're lucky enough to reach the top of whatever you do, then you actually have to work harder, because everyone underneath is gunning for you. Unfortunately, there's no quit.

Brought to you by Lowville Golf Club