Special offer proves bargain

With an excess of caddies and a shortage of players on Tour today the caddie has been pushed a little further in search of "the edge". Whether it be a supplementary jaunt around the course for a detailed yardage check or simply an extra buff of the players freshly shined golf shoes, the modern cad is becoming ever more professional.

Dave McNeilly who works for Padraig Harrington is a pioneer where preparation is concerned. Dave is one of the old stock, he started caddying on tour when there were no yardage books worth buying. He would have been one of those "cartographers" of the early 80s who progressed from paces to the yardage wheel with one giant step for those concerned with accurate numbers.

Nowadays the preparation of the yardage book has been standardised, there is little advantage to be gained from making your own book due to the quality of books produced by the Tour's unofficial numbers supplier Graeme Heinrich.

We are presented with a pin sheet on the first tee every day and it has become standard that we also get a pin sheet on practice days. Dave McNeilly was out checking these pin positions late on Wednesday before the first round of the European Open, just as he does before every round of any event. He tends to follow the greenkeepers around who are cutting the holes. Dave, being the affable person that he is, usually gets talking to the greens staff during his final preparations. When he was ready to leave The K Club that night he ran into the same greenkeeper that he had followed earlier, he was heading in the same direction as Dave and offered the immobile caddie a lift as far as Celbridge. From there Dave would be able to catch a bus back to Castleknock, where he was staying with Padraig's brother.

Dave jumped out of the greenkeepers car and went straight into the local Supermarket at 9.55 p.m. It closed at 10. He was tired and hungry. He made for the delicatessen where there was still some relatively healthy looking salad dishes left over and ordered enough food to gorge himself.

So, with the clock moving on well past 10, the assistant, balancing five loaded cartons of food, inquired of the voracious customer if that would be all. He replied yes, coyly, and reached in his back pocket for his wallet as she totted the total. It wasn't there.

The usual pocket fumbling ensued while the manager was called and the assistant's patience ran dry.

Dave commenced his story to an attentive manager: His profession, the European Open, the greenkeeper, the lift to his wonderful supermarket, the bus he was hoping to take to Castleknock in about five minutes and finally the wallet sitting in the bottom of his player's golf bag, maybe. "Is there any chance I could come back and pay you tomorrow?" he pleaded as his weary face opened into a disarming optimistic smile.

"Who do you caddie for?" the suspicious manager quizzed. "Padraig Harrington," Dave blurted out, wary of dropping names, but desperate. An enthusiastic lift of the eyebrows encouraged the weary caddie. "Sure, no problem, can I give you a lift anywhere, you must be exhausted, you can pay me later on in the week, do you want anything else?"

Dave was sure that it was a good switch to Harrington's bag at the start of last year. As the shutters went down in the Celbridge Supermarket at the exceptionally late hour of 10.15 p.m. last Wednesday the bag switch was proving more advantageous than he ever could have imagined. If Dave had mentioned some of his previous employers he may well have gone home a hungry man.