She laid a towel on the freshly mowed grass and gazed at the other players swinging, ball after ball, under the balmy sunlight. The practice range was unbearably solemn and not a word was spoken. Suddenly, in the distant, she heard a man's voice "Taylor!" – it was her coach Matt yelling at her to get back to work. "Okay Matt!" she yelled back. Taylor, along with the other players, were preparing for the biggest, life-changing two days of their lives – the LPGA Qualifier. This was in Vancouver, a city where it rains for over half the year – not exactly "golf-friendly." This was a mere obstacle for her though: she practiced under all weather conditions and even taught herself hitting balls in the snow. Taylor was only a junior in high school while her playing partners would already be engaged or even married: she definitely possessed the proverbial "thing that could not be taught." However, Taylor's success up to this point was most definitely not a free pass.
             There are video clips of Taylor swinging plastic clubs around the house when she was six years old. Though it wasn't perfect, her swing had potential – perfect rotation, smooth tempo, and a majestic finishing position. From the point of view of someone who is interested in golf or knows about it, the video clips were remarkable. It was neither her swing nor her techniques that made them extraordinary. Instead, it was something that she did not know she was doing: the transfer of weight and power, from her feet to the club, and the way this transference is passed on to the shot, the perfect face angle of the club that is maintained at the precise millisecond it makes contact with the ball. Watching the 6-year-old swing the club was like watching water flow over a smooth rock. Every now and then Taylor's father would compliment her, "Good swing Taylor!" and Taylor would reply, "Tha...