Alexa Stirling

A L E X A S T I R L I NG | V I I I I

In Her Words...

“I have never had any particular trouble with my iron shots, and this is due largely to the fact that even when I was a tiny tot I did not play with dolls as most girls do. I played instead with hammer and nails, and I still have scars on my hands where the hammer hit me instead of the nail. I like to do carpentry and plumbing jobs around the house. Of course, I do not have to do this, but I do it because I like it and get a lot of fun out of it. I cut the lawn, tinker around my automobile, and do a lot of things that men usually do. I play the violin quite a bit, and all this has strengthened my wrists, my forearms, and my fingers. My wrists are more like a man’s than any other woman golfer I know ... the iron shots of women are not compact. They are weak. Women do not put what you call ‘stuff ’ into their shots.” ALEXA STIRLING “My hands still bear the saw marks of bygone days. Out of the mechanical triumphs in my boyish days came something which was to influence all my life, even my golf. From a cigarbox, a stick, and some string, I manufactured a fiddle, an instrument I had seen a little neighbor play ... My pleasing performances (they were inaudible) upon this cigar box attracted the attention of my fond parents, who were prevented from forgetting them by my continual demands for a real fiddle ... I made my debut when still only six years old. That fiddle got me accustomed to appearing before people, and at each performance I seemed to lose more and more of my nervousness ... being watched by a gallery never disturbed my equilibrium ... I give the violin great credit for what strength I have. But the power won by golf has helped my violin more than my violin has helped my golf.” ALEXA STIRLING “Perry Adair, Bob Jones, and I were all too insignificant for the honor of caddies, and the three of us would trudge round the course many a time playing thirty- six holes in the day, lugging our own bags and under a broiling sun. Sometimes we would wait at No. 1 tee for a couple of hours before we could get away ... then we were off, nearly hidden by our bags, but as happy as could be.” ALEXA STIRLING My earliest recollection of Bob Jones was when, as a child of seven, he was lying asleep in his bed, recovering from the effects of an upset tummy. He was a rather spindly child, with a head too large for his small body, but he was even then the handsome person he turned out to be ALEXA STIRLING High tight collars were all the vogue amongst the ambitious youths, so I nearly choked myself. When looking down low for a golf ball, my eyes must have appeared as though they would leave their sockets altogether. Most people would have had heat stroke, but as far as I know, I never did. ALEXA STIRLING As time progressed, we had many fun-filled days playing golf together. We had complete freedom to be on the course at any time with the exception of Sundays, at which time we would walk around and watch the better senior members. In this way, we hoped to improve our own games. All our attempts were under the watchful eye of Stewart Maiden, who was our guide and mentor for years to come. ALEXA STIRLING

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