Caddie Journal - Day 1

Hey, this is an excerpt from my caddie Journal from my first day on June 9th. Its pretty comical, so I decided to let you guys read it. I had to star out the player last name because...well...read on. :) Enjoy!

Saturday, June 9, 2012 – Day 1

5:30 am. – I am on my way to my first day of caddying for real, not training, and the first little tidbits of nervousness hit me in the form of a level 10 migraine and the beginnings of fatal chronic stomach ache. I feel like I’m heading off to my death. I have no idea what this day may bring and I am making myself sick worrying about who I will get, if they’re friendly or not, if they walk fast, if they are going to make me search every bush on the Broadmoor Hotel Golf Course for lost balls, how hot it will be, where the water fountains are, whether or not I’ll even be picked today, how many other caddies will be there, if I would be in a group with other caddies, what if I freeze up and not remember what to do, if I hand the player the wrong club, what if I won’t be able to read the green, how I would be able to choke down my mom’s monstrous omelet in time, how heavy the bag will be, will my hair be in my way the entire time, what if the other caddies are mean, and most importantly when, not if, but when will I collapse?

7:00 am. – I am in the morning line up with a bunch of other caddies with most of my prior butterflies gone while talking to the next caddy in line in hushed tones. Bob Matte, our caddiemaster, approaches a golfer, talks for a second, then calls me over and introduces me to Dale *****. Yeah, what a name right? He’s like 6’7”, thin, older, short straight gray hair, and overall seems like a nice person. Anyway, I’m introduced to three other golfers in the group, two of whom are taking a cart, and one who is also walking with a caddie. The other man walking, with a first name of Chester and a last name that starts with G, picks his caddie, a kid about my age and size named Noah, and they all head over to the practice green to warm-up putt. With sheer terror I tentatively lift his bag putting to test the its weight. I am pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t weigh as much as I though and suddenly, I gained confidence that I might not collapse while on the course. It only weighs about thirty to forty pounds, maybe a little more. Anyway, after loading up with tees, ball markers, score cards, pin placements, distance booklets, wet towels, water bottles, and a couple of apples (they’re free to players and caddies), Noah and I set out to the first tee box on the West Course with our new masters for the next 4 to 5 hours. Its my first day, so Mr. Matte said he would hook me up with someone who didn’t need a lot of assistance so I could learn everything I needed, but nevertheless, I hope it turns out all right.

11:30 am. – Wow! That wasn’t so bad. I mean, I’m dead tired now, but I made it through, and at this point, that is a thing to celebrate. Turns out Mr. ***** was really nice and so were the others. He cracked a few jokes and talked with me almost the whole time, and gave me tips as to how to do things or how to unzip the cover to his golf clubs easier…yeah, talk about learning on the job. I can definitely say that caddie training did almost nothing for me except teach me some rules and stuff. But in training, we only went about 8-10 holes with light, almost empty bags. Shock there. They needed to have us carry 60 pound things to train our bodies because I did almost die from exhaustion out on the course. My legs are killing me! But it also turns out that Mr. ***** obviously didn’t golf as a profession. He hit 24 bunkers (a.k.a. sandtraps or sandpits) in the entire eighteen holes…maybe it just wasn’t his day. In fact, he hit three of the bunkers consecutively on the same hole. Unfortunately for me, caddies have to rake the sandtraps back to a nice smooth surface. And the entire hole was majorly uphill. So he drove the ball into the middle of the first bunker and hit it into the middle of the next bunker with a sand wedge. I made the mistake of saying “Right, into the next sandtrap.” Eek! Not something I should of said, and he reprimand me for it. Anyway, I, groaning on the inside, raked the first bunker and ran up to the next bunker with the rake and golf bag just in time to see him hit the ball right into the middle of the next sandtrap on the OPPOSITE side of the fairway! How in the world do you do that? Anyway, while cleaning and switching out his sand wedge for his 54˚ wedge (I think) with one hand, I raked the second bunker with the other, He went on up ahead leaving me to rake and hit the ball onto the green. I ran up to him and handed him his putter while wiping his 54 and shoving it into the bag while raking the sandtrap and chaotically motioning for Noah to pull the flag (something caddies have to do). I finally arrived at the green out of breath in time to clean his ball, place the marker, and take the flag from Noah and tend it for my player. You may have noticed that I underlined the words middle and ran. The middle of the sandtrap means that I have a TON of raking to do, and “ran” means that I ran from each bunker to the next with a golf bag on my bag uphill to get to Mr. ***** on time. Yeah, that hole wasn’t my favorite. J Anyway, I learned that he has a couple grandchildren, he lived in Texas…blah blah blah, I can’t remember half of it because I’m so dang tired. Anyway, I surprised him when he asked about my dad. The look on his face was priceless! Moving away from Mr. *****, overall, I got 30 bucks for working out and learning etiquette, and I realized that I really like the West Course, however uphill it may be.