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Some caddies have had to gothrough five to 10 interviews.facility, meaning members cover
the payment for the entire group, so
there’s not a lot of jockeying for one
bag over another. That said, guests
in the know will usually slip us a few
bucks coming up the final holes. Most
of them aren’t exactly hurting in
the wallet, and the tip, weird as this
sounds, is more for their peace of mind
than ours. We’re not supposed to take
it—you can make yourself paranoid
worrying about getting “caught” by se-
curity cameras—but you don’t want to
insult someone’s ego. It’s a fine line.
The most challenging thing about our
job is keeping pace. Though members
and guests have gotten considerably
younger the past decade or so, it’s still
an older crowd, and most don’t want to
speed through a memorable round. And
if a group is holding up the rest of the
sheet, it’s us, not the players, who get in
trouble. That means we’re walking well
ahead of our players, getting everything
set for their next shot so they’re ready to
hit when they arrive.
Where we earn our money is on the
greens. Because most lines look like
they’re going one way only to break an-
other, your equilibrium is constantly
thrown off. (I’ve even fallen a few times
because of it.) The club gives plenty
of training, but nothing fully prepares
you for it. One former caddie told me it
took him 30 years to get the gist of the
17th green.
More so than any caddie house I’ve
been a part of, the camaraderie here is
tight. The old guard happily mentors
the newbies, the newbies’ zeal keeps
everyone energized, chops are busted
without remorse. You might have a few
personal quarrels, but nothing that’s
not eventually settled over beers. We
really are a band of brothers.
Bad parts of the gig? Not many. The
caddie suits can be oppressive when
it’s 90 degrees with 90 percent hu-
midity. You don’t see too many good
rounds, which can slightly wear on
you. There’s also zero tolerance of she-
nanigans; you’re always on your best
behavior. You’re thinking, How does
that differ from a normal workplace?
Well, I’ve had plenty of jobs but never
felt like I was always being watched,
or that one slip-up would lead to a dis-
missal. It can create tension, for sure.
There is an air of mystery to the Na-
tional, yet when people find out what
we do, two questions always come up:Have you caddied for anyone famous,
and are the members jerks? I’ve carried
for politicians, musicians, actors,
athletes, more football coaches than
I can remember. (If you work at a
Power 5 school and haven’t been asked
to the National, brother, you must be
a horse’s ass.) As for the latter, abso-
lutely not. I don’t know why people
assume that; suppose that’s how we
view the rich and connected. Fact is,
I’ve worked at a handful of premier
courses around the world, and folks
who belong here are as respectful as
they come. Maybe that’s why so many
members are at the top of their profes-
sion: They know how to treat people.
Which is why I don’t have many
horror stories. None of us really do.
I tell my players the only way this
won’t be special is a self-inflicted
wound, so don’t beat yourself up over
a three-putt or missed green. There’s
the occasional arrogant guest, or
member’s son who’s a bit big for his
britches, but those are rarities. People
tend to be happy when they’re in para-
dise, you know?
Which does lead to one notable
experience.
I was in a group featuring a former
president of the United States, al-
though I had his friend. A caddie can
learn a lot from someone’s golf setup,
and this fella had a staff bag, weighed
a good 50 pounds, with clubs that had
never been hit. He also spent his range
time talking about a house he bought
instead of warming up. I knew I was in
for a long loop.
Guy takes 10 before reaching the
green on 1, top-a-palooza on 2 and 3.
Things do not improve, and he’s not tak-
ing this in stride. Finally on 9, as a Secret
Service guy gives me a glance that says,
I can take you out of your misery; just say
the word, a hand grabs my shoulder.
“I just want you to know, he’s go-
ing to place the blame on you for this
round,” Mr. President said. I was caught
off guard but managed to joke, “Any
chance you can grant me a pardon?”
But he only smiled and kept walking.
His friend? Was brothers with another
guy in the group, who happened to be a
regarded member at the club.
The former POTUS might have once
been the most powerful man in the
world. But at Augusta National, he was
second in command to the almighty
green jacket. —with joel beall