Caddy Master

I grew up in Carnoustie in Scotland. The Carnoustie Championship Golf Course is one of the earliest courses in the history of the game. Carnoustie has a population of about 10,000 and its major industry is golf. If you don't own a set of golf clubs in Carnoustie, you're a freak of nature. Everybody golfs, whether they're good or not. About 15 miles from Carnoustie is St. Andrews. That's where the first golf club was started, back in the 1700s. In Scotland, "the links" was land in Scotland with sand underneath that couldn't be used for farming or for anything else, and so it became golf courses.

I moved to the States in 1982 with my wife, who is also Scottish, after she was hired here as a nurse. We lived first in Sacramento and then moved to Florida, mostly because we wanted to be 3,000 miles closer to home. Up until about five years ago, I played pool professionally. I was the Scottish champion in 1999. But there wasn't enough money in it, so I finally hung up the pool cue and got more involved in golf.

This club, the Old Collier Golf Club in Naples, carries on the real traditions of golf. This is a golf club; it's not a country club, with tennis courts, swimming pools, parties. The typical American golf course tries to be everything. I was at a famous club in Minnesota, and you could get a massage there and get your nails done. Tradition runs right through this club, from the furniture-antiques from Scotland and England-to the caddies, to the golf shop.

Here we only have single-bag caddies. Most caddying in this country now is, for financial reasons, double-bag. The caddy will have two bags, one on each shoulder. When the caddy's dealing with two people at the same time, he isn't able to do what a caddy needs to do.

Obviously, part of what a caddy does is carry the bag, as well as rake bunkers, fill divots, find the golfer's ball. But he also needs to give personal attention-to provide the golfer with yardages, tell him what the winds doing and when he needs a seven iron instead of a six. The caddy is there to do a lot of the thinking for the golfer, so that all the golfer has to do is swing the club. A good caddy takes strokes off your game.

People ask, "What's the difference between a good caddy and a great caddy?" A great caddy is able to read personalities. He will see that one guy doesn't want him to say anything-he wants to focus just on golf today. Another fellow might want to talk, talk, talk.

A great caddy makes the golfer comfortable. If a golfer hits a bad shot, he has to reassure him and get him to focus again. A great caddy is a sports psychologist; he's your investment adviser; he's the weatherman; he's everything rolled into one.

My family's still in Carnoustie, and I go to Scotland each summer. I know a lot of the caddy masters and golf pros over there, so I started a program of recruiting. Now 24 of our 34 caddies are from the U.K., most of them from Scotland. They come here in late October and return in late April. One member of the club put it best: He said the difference you get with a Scottish caddy is like the difference between watching color television and black-and-white.

My role as a caddy master is largely one of management. If members say one caddy is the best, I want to learn why everybody else is not at that level. I also deal with them on a personal level. The caddies are single, and there isn't a lot for singles to do in Naples. This year we started a soccer team, and I'll golf with them on Mondays. It's important that we're a team.

Naples is an interesting place. Many of the members of this club have made their money from scratch, so they know what a hard day's work is. I've worked at country clubs where they were all born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and they're the ones who'll look down on the caddy as a second-class citizen. In Scotland, we call them "fur coat, no knickers": They can afford the fur coat but they can't afford the knickers underneath. Here the members are very down-to-earth, and the caddies are respected. One of the biggest kicks I get is seeing two people from two very different walks of life bonding out on the golf course. One may be the CEO of a major corporation and the other is the caddy. But for those four hours, they're best buddies.

The caddy learns a lot about people. The caddy knows who's getting divorced, who's sleeping with whom, which member likes Diet Pepsi and which likes Diet Coke. But the member trusts the caddy is not going to repeat any of that. That's part of the bond. A great caddy is a little bit of a free spirit; he doesn't want a lot of responsibilities. Caddies work four hours a day; they get pretty decent money; they're out in the sunshine, close to nature. They're escaping the 9-to-5 life.

People wonder why golf is one of the fastest-growing sports in the world. In a way, it's crazy: You hit a little round ball with a stick. But to me, it's the whole experience. You're playing a game and testing your skills. At the same time, you're in a beautiful environment. That's why I detest golf courses with houses on them. It's one thing you won't find in Scotland or England. I tell people about it over there and they can't believe it-that you can actually break a window hitting your tee-shot. It's ridiculous. That's what's great about this course. You can see wild ospreys, woodpeckers, eagles, gopher tortoises-and no homes.

Some people say the caddy is a dying breed. Maybe they're right. Maybe in 20 years, you won't see the caddy. You'll see the computerized GPS programs everywhere, along with tennis courts, swimming pools and the hairdresser. I hope not.