Although this story is set around the world of Professional golf, it is not about golf, but about the people who inhabit that world. Inevitably it does contains parts that refer to the game of golf itself, but for those of you who are not golfers and do not follow it, I have endeavoured to keep these as short and simple as possible. I hope you all enjoy it.
I thought I had the best job in the world, a professional golf caddie. By that I meant I was caddie to a professional golfer, not someone who carried clubs for amateur golfers. There was a huge difference, just as there was a huge difference between a professional golfer and a club golfer, even a very good one.
I'd been doing it for about 10 years now, I had been a very good golfer myself and had tried my luck at making a living from playing golf, but soon realised that I just didn't have that very special something that set Pro's apart, so I'd reluctantly given up and started to wonder what in life I could do. All I'd dreamed about was being a Pro and winning Majors and now I was unemployed and essentially unequipped to do anything proper.
That changed when a friend's caddie left him for a better bag and he asked if I'd step in for a while. I didn't think I'd like it at first, after all I wanted to be the one wielding the clubs, not the one lugging the heavy bag around, but I found to my surprise that I did actually really enjoy it.
Of course there was a lot more to it that just carrying the bag, I was part of a team working with my Pro, helping him make the correct decisions on clubs, ways to play a shot, lines to be taken and of course, reading the greens.
It was nice too to be a member of that very elite group, the Tour, rubbing shoulders with some of the very best golfers in Europe, learning from them all the time, and slowly I worked my way up the caddie ranks. Experience was what everyone wanted from their caddie, but again it was more than that, you had to get on as partners, it was no use being at loggerheads ever, that just led to the sack, to be replaced by someone else.
Of course we disagreed from time to time, and I had to recognise that he was the one playing the shot and whose income, as well as mine, depended on the success of that shot. It was nice though sometimes to be recognised for being right.
It was still a precarious life, you were only as good as your Pro's last game, if his form slumped the first person to be blamed was the caddie, I didn't have any form of employment protection, I was self-employed and could be sacked literally at a moment's notice. The relationship between us was symbiotic, but sometimes it could feel parasitic, I was paid a small daily rate and my expenses were covered, but the real money came from bonuses, I got 10% of his winnings if he won the tournament, and 7.5% for a top ten finish, tapering down. Thus successful Pro's were much in demand, no matter how hard a taskmaster they were.
I'd carried for several different Pro's, and had been with my current one, Richard for three years now. We'd hooked up by chance and had got on, and under my guidance he'd improved significantly (or so I told him) and although he hadn't actually won yet, it would happen soon, so everyone said.
Life as a Touring Pro and their caddie is an arduous one, typically turn up Tuesday, play a practice round, a Pro-Am on Wednesday, tournament start on Thursday. There was a cut on Friday evening, usually only half the field would continue on Saturday and Sunday, competing for the prize money, the rest would not make it and end up going home with no income to show for their efforts. Monday at home, then it would all start again.
It was a huge strain on personal relationships and that was why I was still single. I did have a partner for a while, we'd set up home together, but the strain of me being away so much travelling around Europe and beyond proved too much and when I discovered that she'd been playing away from home more than me, we called it a day and I moved back in with Mum for the few days a week I wasn't in a hotel. I managed the odd one night stand, and sometimes I didn't return to England between tournaments, sightseeing or lazing on a beach where I found some companionship, but more often than not, it was my right hand that provided my sexual relief.
Richard was lucky, he had a lovely wife, Sandra, or Sandy as she preferred, and she usually accompanied him on his trips, watching from outside the ropes. In the evenings we all ate together, often with other players and caddies and I got to know her quite well. I was a bit jealous when they went off to their room together and I imagined them in bed together making love, whilst I had a solitary wank to some porn on my phone. She was very attractive and had a lovely body, occasionally I'd get to see it in a bikini which obviated the need for porn that night, but rarely anything else other than a glimpse of bra.
We were usually joined for dinner by Richard's best pal on tour, Peter and his caddie Simon, inevitably Simon and I became good friends, the caddies associated generally with each other rather than the players, but Richard and Peter always treated us a colleagues, not employees. Simon also was single, he never mentioned a girlfriend and never spoke of any sexual conquests, although to be fair nor did I.
The climax to the golfing year came in early December, the overall winner being crowned then and it all started again, the top 115 or so keeping their rights to play in the tournaments for the following year. The early events took place in warmer climes, typically the Middle East or South Africa and the Far East. Many players, particularly those who were confident of keeping their card for the next year skipped these, the cost of playing in them being quite high, Richard played in the bigger ones, but took some time out to rest which gave me plenty of opportunity to spend some time with Mum. Sometimes I'd stand in for another caddie, but by and large it was a quiet time of year, everyone awaiting the arrival of the European spring and summer.
We started off well, Richard seemed particularly up for it at the beginning of the season, he came second a couple of times, and it was beginning to look as though his breakthrough win wouldn't be long in coming. Sandy was a constant source of support and encouragement and I was looking forward to a really good year. Then unexpectedly Richard missed two cuts in a row, this had never happened before and we knuckled down to try to see what the problem was.
It didn't seem much, just the odd bad shot or three putt, and we put it down to bad luck, no player goes through a season without a few mishaps, but I noticed that Richard didn't have that same enthusiasm as he'd exhibited at the beginning of the season. He was grumpy on the course, both with himself and me, I took it on the chin, that was the less glamorous side of being a caddie, you just had to accept that you were the punch bag sometimes.
It got to the stage where I asked him outright if everything was OK, did he want a change of caddie? He reassured me that was the last thing on his mind, he valued my friendship and professionalism and we just had to work through it. Once or twice he and Sandy missed dinner, and on one occasion she came down alone. I asked her if there was a problem, she told me there wasn't, that Richard just felt a bit off. To be fair he was OK the next day and I thought nothing more about it.
