The CaddyShack #2 - A Normal Day
A new written series for 2024, by Pat's Ten Pence.
In July 2023, I began sharing stories I had collected while caddying - the best job in the world.
As we kick off 2024, I intend to share a lot more, having carefully documented every golfer, caddie and local I encountered during an incredible summer season. Every Sunday I will post the next phase of the journey.
Maybe one day, these Sunday Substack entries will morph into a book. Maybe they already have. Depending on the success of these short extracts, you could be reading first editions of a future must-read for caddies everywhere. We must have a dream, after all.
In caddying, there really is no such thing as a normal day – but if there were - it might start at 8am, waking up, consuming as many calories as possible and heading to the course 30 minutes before your allocated 9.12am tee time.
Upon arrival, you discover that it is a group of sixteen, high school mates from New Brunswick or frat brothers from New Hampshire. You overhear the jibbing between friends, confident predictions of what score will be shot and who will be victorious. You witness the flash of blue and gold competing with the red, white and blue contrasting Ryder Cup outfits, glimmers of ‘1776’ or ‘Medinah’ attire lurking by the first tee.
Dressed in freshly pressed white coveralls with the distinguished red caddie cap – equipped with a rangefinder, tees, towel, ball marker divot repair tool, water, a couple of cereal bars and a smile. Unless it’s raining.
Once introductions are made it is over to you to perfect the small talk with your golfer and watch the warm-up while cleaning some wedge grooves - to get a feel for what sort of round it might be.
*top tip – buy a good bristle brush*.
For me, knowing North American geography is useful, knowing enough about professional golf, football and/or hockey (that’s ice hockey for Brits) is probably essential. The golfer is sometimes nervous, sometimes feigning confidence, sometimes under prepared and sometimes ready for a beer. You have to be adaptable to all scenarios.
Proving your competence is the initial key – learn from the other caddies in the group - give good advice and confident direction. You hear the words ‘good read’ at any point on the front nine and you’re doing okay.
It’s approaching noon, let’s assume you’ve made it through the front nine and you’re getting on like a house on fire, the grooves are clean and the reads are good. Given the chance, I find it fascinating to delve into the golfer’s own journey in life. I have a way of getting through to people and getting them to open up without it feeling like an interview. Maybe it’s the British accent. I had my own interesting journey to Nova Scotia (I will share in future weeks) and I assumed others have one, too.
You close out with a solid par down 18 and it’s about 2pm. There’s potential to go around again for a second loop for the strong-willed/partially psychotic loopers in the caddyshack, it’s up to you whether you think your work day is done. A fantastic predicament to be in.
The Role
I was initially skeptical of the extent of a caddie’s impact at this level of golf. We can give the golfer exact yardages and lines, but at the end of the day, they are the ones holding the club. There’s only so much you can say and do, or so I thought.
However, not one to shy away from a challenge, I took great pride personally in getting golfers around these courses in fewer shots than they anticipated. Once you have earned your golfer’s trust, you are able to work miracles.
By talking about a shot for just a few seconds, you paint a picture of what is required, and hit a lot more smart shots and a lot fewer really bad ones. which means the scores drastically improve.
*For obvious reasons, when I tell stories from caddying I will alter the real names. Let’s pretend caddie-client privilege is a thing.*
An example of showing competence is quickly learning what clubs your player prefers.
I had a great guy from Nashville, Tennessee who only really hit his driver, hybrid, seven iron or pitching wedge. The other clubs in his bag were gleaming, enjoying the sleek finish of a weapon rarely used.
Not to worry. All you need is a bit of wind and some confidence - and any yardage can be shaped and moulded into the desired number.
Picture the scene.
We had 118 yards, downhill approach, where you cannot go long. He hit his PW about 110 yards. This one was easy, – pitching wedge.
Next hole, 135 approach, into a breeze, trouble left but a bail-out right and just past the pin. Sounds like a perfect 150 shot - 7 iron.
A few holes later, 164 yards, up the hill, nothing for short and room long. No worries. Let’s call it 180. Hybrid’s your club, buddy.
For most players, instead of talking about percentages and arguing about wind direction, it is worth more to make your golfer feel comfortable and pick an obvious target. The vast majority of the time, guests just want to be in play and have the odd birdie look, and keep the huge numbers off the card. If you can achieve that, you’ve done a good job.
At the end of each entry – I’ll share three memorable statistics in a random summer week – taken from my notes gathered while caddying.
Week Ending 17th August 2023
· Loops with Stan, my favourite caddie: 4
· Buffalo Chicken wraps eaten (shoutout the Pantry): 6
· Golf balls found: 22
Stay tuned, see you next Sunday.
Patrick Brennan
14th January 2024
In Case You Missed It - About the Author:
I grew up playing links golf in England from the age of 12; got down to a respectable six handicap at age 17, then continued to follow the game while university degrees, rugby, a pandemic, and moving halfway across the world took priority.
After graduating university in 2021, I took the path less travelled and flew to Montreal, Canada, before driving, skiing, golfing and rafting my way through British Columbia in 2022 and early 2023.
A once-in-a-lifetime road trip commenced; through a couple of Canadian provinces and twenty-two American States which allowed us (my resilient partner Megan) to make it over to the miniscule town of Inverness, Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.
Encapsulating one summer season, written by a self-appointed golf sicko whose golf knowledge, passion and understanding far supersedes his ability to play the game, making me the ideal coach, or in this case – caddie.