Bags of caddies plug in `no win' trap

The duties of a caddie range from simply reciting the yardage to full-scale nannying. Depending on how punctual the player may be, hanging around tends to be a significant element in the caddy's job specification.

The final instruction given the previous week may be to meet, say, in Madrid at 9.0 a.m. on Tuesday. But, come the Tuesday, the player decides to take a later flight than planned.

The locker-room and environs often resemble a doctor's waiting room after a holiday weekend. Too many bored and anxious caddies lurking around, afraid to leave their post in case Sire decides some day to show up at about the time he said he would.

With a surplus of cads at most tournaments these days, it's worth hanging around and getting bored, just to keep your job. There have been times, for instance, when a diligent cad who has gone out to check the course, maybe to get a few extra yardages, returns to discover that his player had arrived and, because the cad was "missing", hired someone else. "Efficiency" is keeping the bag on your back.

There is a bag transport service between tournaments run by some caddies, which many players use. The service was initially set up by a number of Argentinian caddies, and the clubs were hauled by the Belgrano, named affectionately after the Argentine battleship sunk during the Falklands war.

The bags usually arrive at the next event on Monday afternoon. This gives the cad an opportunity to sort out his bag, check there isn't an Argentinian asleep in it, and get golf balls from the reps who are ready for business by Tuesday morning. If grips or shafts need altering, this can also be done. When the player arrives, his bag is ready for a quick takeoff to the first tee.

So these are very much the valet duties. If you were paid by the hour it would probably be less than the minimum wage.

The caddy's ultimate goal, I suppose, is to get the player around in as few shots as possible. If you analyse each competitive round and conclude that, between player and cad, you couldn't have shot any lower, well then you are doing a good job - understanding, of course, that the caddie is only as good as the guy who's hitting the ball. It is undoubtedly easier to work for a good player.

Keeping the toys in the cot and not losing any on the course may be a more difficult challenge. Here the nanny's talents are called for: "There, there, now now, we mustn't demolish that tree in front of the cameras, do it later when they have gone".

Some players just go for the psychological warfare tactics when they step on the first tee. Although you start on the same team, it's hard with some players not to think that someone had defected during the day's play.

Communication has crumbled to such a level that, although the butler is still carrying out his basic duties, the nanny has been dismissed. It's just shut up and keep up till you are back in the sanctuary of the clubhouse.

Some days you can't win for losing. One caddie, while working for a fickle player, was a victim of the no win situation at the 16th at Wentworth last year. He was asked what club he thought it was. He said three-wood. The pro hits the advised club, but the ball appears to have gone into the bunker. So now the cad prepares for an ear-bashing for the entire, 220 yards from tee to bunker. "That was never a three-wood. It was either a driver over the trap or a three-iron short of it. That trap is dead. That's the last place I want to be, you never want to be in that bunker. "

It turns out his ball is not in the bunker but in a bare patch between it and the rough. Believe me, you could lose your golf bag in the rough at Wentworth last year. It was a good break off a bad shot. But he didn't see it that way.

He looks at the ball, he looks at the bunker, he scratches his head. He turns to his caddie and says, in a disarming fashion, "You know what mate, I would have been better off in that bunker."