[V. Kmetz]

Back in the day, the old Jewish guys who played a big money game expected...nay...WANTED you to cheat, to move the ball; they got pissed off when there was a marginal lie or situation that they deemed was "fixable..." which was nearly always.

And not only did we perform the boots, punts, kicks, shuffles, rake-outs, whacking with putters, carrying on the back of a putter, using the ball retriever from 15 yards away...all of it, but we got into the ethos of it too. sometimes I'd set one of my fellows up, "like a winter rule," give him a miraculous opening 40 yards up from where his ball originally lie, sitting perfectly on the one mild tuft of good grass for acres...and he'd flub the damn thing into a bunker and I'd cry..."Most best work ruined!" or "Pearls to swine" as I shoved the wedge into his hand...

But sometimes, you physically did not have enough time to get to a ball...if two, or three or all four (these guys took carts and I had their putters) were in trouble, I had to scramble to improve any of them. 

I am sure the quickest verbal thinking I ever did was when JW's ball was hopelessly stymied in the crotch of a tree and I had not had time to extract it elsewhere...it was too late...they had already driven up. Upon seeing his unplayable position, JW, who called every teenage caddie there, "Tiger," bellowed, "Hey Tiger, what the fuck is this?" while pointing to the lodged ball. Embarrassed and on the spot in front of the whole group, , I mouthed the only answer that might exonerate me: "You shoulda seen where it WAS!"

These sixty-five year old guys fell out of the carts laughing (one player laughed so hard he farted, which only doubled our laughter and tripled our memory of it)

Now that I'm back to summer caddying, I recycle that line frequently--especially when I haven't moved the ball---and it never fails to bring a smile to my players.

The absolute best line ever was given to me  by my asst caddiemaster who was playing with me and standing up by the green, while I had an blind lob approach up a greenside hill. I couldn't even see the flag but I knew I kinda did it ok and I called up to Kevin, "How is it?" He shouted down, "It's like anal sex; it's tight and you're going to love it!"

I relish the opportunity to repeat that for my players.

cheers

vk

[Patrick_Mucci]

VKmetz,

I've never seen anyone get an obstructed lie in the woods at PV.

Is that an "old Jewish club" ?

[jeffwarne]

VKmetz,

I've never seen anyone get an obstructed lie in the woods at PV.

Is that an "old Jewish club" ?

really?

[Patrick_Mucci]

Back in the day, the old Jewish guys who played a big money game expected...nay...WANTED you to cheat, to move the ball; they got pissed off when there was a marginal lie or situation that they deemed was "fixable..." which was nearly always.

And not only did we perform the boots, punts, kicks, shuffles, rake-outs, whacking with putters, carrying on the back of a putter, using the ball retriever from 15 yards away...all of it, but we got into the ethos of it too. sometimes I'd set one of my fellows up, "like a winter rule," give him a miraculous opening 40 yards up from where his ball originally lie, sitting perfectly on the one mild tuft of good grass for acres...and he'd flub the damn thing into a bunker and I'd cry..."Most best work ruined!" or "Pearls to swine" as I shoved the wedge into his hand...

But sometimes, you physically did not have enough time to get to a ball...if two, or three or all four (these guys took carts and I had their putters) were in trouble, I had to scramble to improve any of them. 

I am sure the quickest verbal thinking I ever did was when JW's ball was hopelessly stymied in the crotch of a tree and I had not had time to extract it elsewhere...it was too late...they had already driven up. Upon seeing his unplayable position, JW, who called every teenage caddie there, "Tiger," bellowed, "Hey Tiger, what the fuck is this?" while pointing to the lodged ball. Embarrassed and on the spot in front of the whole group, , I mouthed the only answer that might exonerate me: "You shoulda seen where it WAS!"

These sixty-five year old guys fell out of the carts laughing (one player laughed so hard he farted, which only doubled our laughter and tripled our memory of it)

Now that I'm back to summer caddying, I recycle that line frequently--especially when I haven't moved the ball---and it never fails to bring a smile to my players.

The absolute best line ever was given to me  by my asst caddiemaster who was playing with me and standing up by the green, while I had an blind lob approach up a greenside hill. I couldn't even see the flag but I knew I kinda did it ok and I called up to Kevin, "How is it?" He shouted down, "It's like anal sex; it's tight and you're going to love it!"

I relish the opportunity to repeat that for my players.

cheers

vk

[Robert Kimball]

My recent trip to Pebble. Caddy hands me SW on 7. Says 78 yards to the pin, don't be short. I proceed to skull the living hell out of the ball. It never gets about 3 feet off the ground and is going about 200 miles an hour as it flies the green.

Gene, the best caddy I every had anywhere, deadpans: "Jesus, we're not at war with the Japs again are we?"  We go to the DZ, and he says "Come on, you can pretend to be Tom Kite. Just remember the green isn't stimping at at 15 like it was then, OK? Try to keep this pitch on dry ground, any dry ground will do!"

[Rob Marshall]

My recent trip to Pebble. Caddy hands me SW on 7. Says 78 yards to the pin, don't be short. I proceed to skull the living hell out of the ball. It never gets about 3 feet off the ground and is going about 200 miles an hour as it flies the green.

Gene, the best caddy I every had anywhere, deadpans: "Jesus, we're not at war with the Japs again are we?"  We go to the DZ, and he says "Come on, you can pretend to be Tom Kite. Just remember the green isn't stimping at at 15 like it was then, OK? Try to keep this pitch on dry ground, any dry ground will do!"

Gene McClure?

[Colin Macqueen]

Gentlemen,

The hoary old chestnut of how wonderful caddies are pops up again! For a wee bit o' balance I proffer the following.  My perverse take on caddies and caddying has been supported, in the misty time of bygone years, by the writings of some wag or other that Melvyn Morrow dredged up and Adam Clayman promulgated in another thread.


"…. men of an economical turn are beginning to dispense with the services of "caddies"  -  those critics in rags who carry the clubs of players, and sneer at their employers behind their backs. It would indeed be well if "caddies" could be got rid of altogether. They are in every respect a blot on the game of golf. They generally develop into loafers, and not infrequently into blackguards."

See VK my daft opinions did not spring up unheralded they have been floating around since time immemorial! Hope Kris  doesn't see this! Chuckling here!

Cheers Colin

[Brent Belote]

Playing Pac Dunes few weeks ago.  Can't remember if it was Juggy or Adam Araneo looks at me after a rough stretch of triple, birdie, par, triple,
 "Man you are playing Ray Ray golf"
"Ray Ray Golf??"
"Either Ray Floyd or Ray Charles, figure it out already"

[Ryan Bass]

I like asking a caddy about his/her experiences with celebrities/athletes.  Good tippers, bad tippers, unexpected meanies, ect.   I won't post the negatives but I've heard rock star tippers include Peyton Manning, Joe Buck, Andy Garcia.

[Jud_T]

Couple more came to mind:

1.  At my old club I was playing with an important business contact who I'd invited out for the day.  Even though the club didn't get that much play, it was a fairly busy Saturday morning in July.  We headed out early just after the guys in the Saturday morning game who typically got the best honor caddies.  So the caddymaster sends out this pale-looking high school kid who was next in line to double for us.  After giving us our drivers on the first tee he heads out to forecaddy up the left side as there's OB and long grass on the dogleg there.  We both hit decent drives in play.  As we're walking up to our approach shots the caddie is conspicuously absent.  We look towards the tall grass where he was last seen only to witness the breakfast sight of champions-  the kid vomiting a rainbow of what must of have been everything he'd eaten in the past 24 hours.  He'd apparently just experienced his first serious bout with alcohol which had just ended a few hours prior.  We sent him home with a recipe for bitters and soda as a tip.

[Frank Giordano]

Working as a caddy at a Tillinghast golf course as a boy -- 13-18 years of age -- had an enormously positive impact on my subsequent life.  The work allowed me to pay my tuition at a local prep school, started me on an academic career, introduced me to the game through the experiences of watching and marveling at the talents of Julius Boros and other stars of the 50s, such as Jay hebert and Ted Kroll and GeorgeBayer.  And my caddying experiences inspired me to turn my compositional and research  skills towards golf writing.  One of the most memorable days in my golfing life, my round at the Cypress Point Club, was enhanced by the marvelous work and stories of my 72 year old caddie, Sparky Enea.

Caddying was also at the root of some of my worst nightmares, literally, which I can't share here but have placed as the subjects of two of my stories on the Kindle Direct Publishing platform, one still awaiting publication.  It was decades before my "bad dream," as I used to call it, returned to its little corner of hell and stopped disturbing my sleep.

[Adam Clayman]

Colin, Thanks for bringing up those words written in 1880.

Clearly, the subject is fascinating on many levels. From the journalistic, to the humanistic.

Why did that author interject his personal vitriol, on the caddies, into what was for all appearances a fluff piece speculating on the future of Golf?

We can all understand that authors prejudice, as these modern day stories confirm. But, what he's really doing is spreading a form of hate speech against a whole group of individuals, based on the actions of a few. And that's just not right. Caddies are individuals. They act according to their own  ethos, adapted to the environment and local culture. What the author ends up doing, is giving us all insights to his environment, his culture, his prejudice.


I don't know about you, but, I find, how people treat other people, (on and off the gc) is the cornerstone of both what's wrong, and what's right, with our species. What I find lacking in his pathos, is the freedom this sport should embody.

[Terry Lavin]

A regular girl caddie who could not follow a ball (nicknamed Helen Keller) had difficulty for the third time in a round one day. "What the heck, Bridget," I lamented as we walked back to the rough in search of the nugget. Just then I heard a little roar from across the course. "Did you hear that?  Sounded like a hole in one on 12!"  She hadn't heard anything. I paid her and went into the locker room.  "Do we have an eye doctor in the club?  Send him to the Caddyshack for my blind caddie."  Laughing, Pat says, ""well your first drink is on Mr. Boyd."  "Hole in one on 12," I gently inquired. "Yep."  "Send the ear doctor, too,"

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