After my first few weeks of working for Pete Dye (in total obscurity) I somehow found myself assisting Mr. Dye in building green subgrades. We each had small grading tractors about the size of a riding lawnmower. His initial instructions to me were, “Just follow me around the green and do exactly what I do. When I dig, you dig, when I add dirt to a mound, you do the same.” After about five minutes of circling around and around the 2nd green at the Brickyard Crossing course at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Pete stopped his tractor and got off. I followed suit. Then came the words I will never forget. “You must be the dumbest person alive,” he yelled at me. “Every time I dig a hole, you fill it in, and every time I build a mound, you tear it down.” Then he laughed out loud and got back on his machine. He got his point across. I guess I must have improved, because he didn’t fire me, and from the day forward I was his assistant. In my defense, I couldn’t see what he was doing in front of me, I had never been on that type of equipment, I was very nervous, and I probably am as dumb as a post. But, I had the one thing I think he was looking for, desire.