Tin Cup quotes

View Quote Roy: Waggle it and let the big dog eat.
Molly: What big dog?
Roy: The driver, the #1-wood.
Molly: This is metal.
Roy: All woods are. The driver's known as the big dog. I'm just saying let him loose, let it rip, let the big dog eat.
Molly: You know, this is without a doubt the stupidest, silliest...most idiotic, grotesquely masquerading game ever invented.
Roy: Yes, that's why I love it. If you hit one good shot and that tuning fork rings in your loins and you can't wait to get back.

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

View Quote Roy: "What Is The Golf Swing," by Roy McAvoy? Well, I tend to think of the golf swing as a poem.
Romeo: Ooh, he's doing that poetry thing again.
Roy: The opening phrase of this poem will always be the grip. The hands unite to form a single unit by the simple overlap of the little finger.
Molly: Right.
Roy: Lowly and slowly, the clubhead is led back, pulled into position not by the hands, but by the body, which turns away from the target, shifting weight to the right side without shifting balance. Tempo is everything; perfection unobtainable as the body coils down at the top of the swing. Theres a slight hesitation. A little nod to the gods.
Molly: A, a nod to the gods?
Roy: Yeah, to the gods. That he is fallible. That perfection is unobtainable. And now the weight begins shifting back to the left pulled by the powers inside the earth. It's alive, this swing! A living sculpture and down through contact, always down, striking the ball crisply, with character. A tuning fork goes off in your heart and your balls. Such a pure feeling is the well-struck golf shot. Now the follow through to finish. Always on line. The reverse C of the Golden Bear! The steel workers' power and brawn of Carl Sandburg's Arnold Palmer!
Clint: Unnhh, he's doing the Arnold Palmer thing.
Roy: End the unfinished symphony of Roy McAvoy.
Molly: What's unfinished?
Roy: I have a short follow-through. It has an unfinished look.
Molly: Why?
Roy: Some say it's the easiest way to play in the winds of west Texas...some say it's because I never finished anything in my life. You can decide. But the point is...every finishing position is unique. That's what the golf swing's about. It's about gaining control of your life and...letting go at the same time.
Molly: Jeez Louise.
Roy: There's only one other acceptable theory about how to hit the ball.
Molly: Oh, boy, well, I'm afraid to ask. What's the other theory?
Roy: Grip it and rip it.

View Quote Way I'm swinging today, nothing bugs me except insufficient applause.

View Quote Well, what the hell? You ride her until she bucks you or don't ride at all.

View Quote [to Roy] You're a head case. You always have been, always will be.

View Quote Earl: [about Roy] The word normal and him don't often collide in the same sentence.

View Quote David Simms: Can you people not see that I'm busy? I'm working. This is my office. Do I come to your office and ask for an autograph? I don't think so. Jesus. What an ugly dog.

View Quote Roy: First thing you must learn is this game ain't about hitting a ball in a hole. It's about inner demons, self-doubt, human frailty and overcoming that crap. What kind of doctor did you say you were?
Molly: Psychologist. I'm a neo-Jungian, post-modern Freudian, holistic secularist.
Roy: Okay.
Molly: Inner demons and human frailty is my life's work.

View Quote Roy: Okay, so how do I do it? Therapy, I mean, I mean, wh-- how do I start doing it?
Molly: Ooo-kay, Roy. Well, in parlance you might understand, just kick back and let the big dog eat.
Roy: Suppose there's this guy, and he's standing on the shore of a big wide river, and the... river's full of all manner of disaster, you know, piranhas, alligators, eddies, currents, shit like that nobody'll even go down there to dip a toe. And on the other side of the river's a million bucks, and on this side of the river is a rowboat.
Molly: Mm-hmm?
Roy: I guess my question's this: What would possess the guy standing on the shore to swim for it?
Molly: He is an idiot.
Roy: No, see, he's a helluva swimmer. His problem's more like why does he always have to rise to the challenge?
Molly: He is a juvenile idiot.
Roy: You don't understand what I mean by the river.
Molly: Roy, we're talking about you, and what you like to call your inner demons -- that human frailty you like to blather about -- not some mythopoetic metaphor you come up with in a feeble and transparent effort to do yourself credit.
Roy: You mean you're going to make me feel lousy?
Molly: No.
Roy: I came here to feel better. I mean, what kind of therapy is...
Molly: Roy, Roy, Roy, you don't have any inner demons. What you have is inner crapola, inner debris... garbage... loose wires, [laughs] horseshit in staggering amounts.
Roy: I'm not some just jerk driving range pro who drinks too much booze, eats too few vegetables, okay?

View Quote Roy: Look, I love Earl, okay, but... I need you.
Romeo: You don't love me?
Roy: Yeah, yeah, I-I love you too, goddammit.
Romeo: Well, as much as Earl?
Roy: I don't know! I mean, when I was with Earl, I was thinking of you... Yes, uh, as much as Earl. More than Earl. More than Earl.
Romeo: Am I special?
Roy: Well, if you can remove the sexual overtones and add a golf theme, then Romeo, I am your Juliet.
Romeo: In that case, Julieta, I am your caddy.

View Quote Roy: I nutted that thing. I mean, I nutted it.
Romeo: I know. You put a hell of a move on it.
Roy: Little gust from the gods cost me.
Romeo: We'll take our drop, tie, and win the playoff.
Roy: I can make that shot!
Romeo: I know! But not now!
Roy: Now! I'm playing it from right here, now.

View Quote Molly: That was incredible! That was the shot of the tournament!
Roy: I just gave away the U.S. Open.
Molly: It doesn't matter.
Roy: One time in my life I know the safe play to hit and I still...Shit, I still can't make myself do it.
Molly: It doesn't matter.
Roy: My whole career, my whole life on the line...I just made a 12 on the last hole of the Open!
Molly: You sure did. It was the greatest 12 of all time. No one's going to remember the Open 10 years from now, who won...but they'll remember your 12! My, God, Roy, it was...Well, it's immortal! I am so proud of you!

View Quote [to Molly] "****." "Shit." These are technical golf terms. You're using them on your first lesson. This is promising.

View Quote Does my inner child need a spanking?