Time & Perspective Quote by Tom Kite

Kite’s genius here is how casually he flips miserable weather into a competitive advantage. Wind and rain aren’t just conditions; they’re a sorting mechanism. Most golfers experience that slap of cold air as a warning. Kite reads it as information: the course is about to punish impatience, ego, and anyone trying to force a “normal” round out of abnormal circumstances. The line is a quiet flex, delivered as self-talk rather than trash talk.

The specific intent is to describe a mental pivot: stepping outside becomes a calibration moment where he decides the day will be played on his terms. “Took my time” isn’t a vague wellness mantra; it’s strategy. Bad weather makes tempo and decision-making visible. Rushing means mis-clubbing, over-swinging, chasing flags you can’t hold. Patience becomes a scoring tool.

The subtext is that confidence isn’t loud. “Trusted myself” signals a practiced relationship with uncertainty: he’s not claiming control over the elements, just over his reactions. It’s also a small indictment of opponents who treat adversity as an excuse. Kite implies that if you’ve done the work, chaos is where you get paid.

Context matters: “the Open” carries a cultural script of golf as stoic endurance, not highlight-reel dominance. Kite aligns himself with that tradition, but modernizes it into something almost therapeutic: feel the discomfort, slow down, execute. Winning starts before the first tee shot, in the decision not to be rattled.