There are many, many stories of Gail and me on tour. They were always the funniest times in my life. Not the trophies. Not the wins. The moments between – when we were lost, or late, or laughing so hard we couldn't breathe.
When I told Gail about the way my family upset me, she said I could move into their place until I found my direction. So I did. Benjamin came with me. That's the truth.
How I first met Gail: she was watching me play in 1990, winning the New Zealand Amateur Championship at Paraparaumu. Back then, good golfers were moving to Manor Park. I went too. At Manor Park, Gail said: "I'm the lady club captain of this club."
Years later, when I needed a manager, I went to her. My family were very upset. She wasn't them. That's when the grudge started.
She said I had to ask her husband first. So I went to Peter – not to a place called Harmony. Straight to him. Peter said: "I really can't make choices for her. You'll have to ask her yourself." So I went back to Gail and said: "Peter said it's OK."
Gail never made my choices for me. She supported them. When I wanted to go to Europe, she helped. When I wanted to fire a caddie, she stood with me. When I wanted to keep playing with a broken elbow, she found me a second opinion.
It was always me making the choices to go ahead. Gail was the one who made sure I didn't make them alone.