ON THE BAG

As Poacher turns gamekeeper, renowned golf writer John Huggan relinquishes his pen and picks up a bag.

It’s a wee while ago now, but I once asked Colin Montgomerie how long I would last carrying his golf bag around the course during a tournament. Monty and I knew each other well. He and I had played a fair bit of golf together before he turned professional and went on to much fame and fortune, culminating in us being two parts of the 11-man Scotland team in the 1984 Home Internationals at Troon.

Anyway, he considered the question of me on his bag for a few seconds before responding. “Second shot to the first green,” he said. “And that’s only because even you and I couldn’t disagree about it being a driver off the tee.”

Bloody cheek.

Before and after that gratuitous and obviously wholly unwarranted insult,

I have actually caddied in a variety of events, although none of them were for Monty. The Tartan Tour (Derek Small). The Walker Cup (Stephen Keppler). The Open Championship (Paul Gallagher). The PGA Tour (Forrest Fezler). The European Tour (Russell Claydon). The British Senior Open (Mike Clayton). The LPGA Tour (Catriona Matthew). All have seen me wearing bibs emblazoned with the names of friends of mine. On paper at least, my caddying credentials are fairly extensive and, dare I say, not a little bit impressive.

And what have I learned? Two things mainly.

Firstly, even someone who is a close pal off the course can turn into a completely different person when playing competitive golf. Secondly, because of that, it is vital not to stray across the sometimes blurry line that separates a friendship and a caddie/player relationship.

An example. A few years ago, I caddied for my good friend, New Zealander Greg Turner, in the Swiss Senior Open. In one round, Greg parred the first 14 holes. The 15th at Bad Ragaz is a short par 4 and Greg hit a mildly scabby tee-shot into the semirough on the right side.

Walking to his ball I told him not to worry. “You’ll par this hole anyway,” I said in a jocular fashion. Greg’s second shot finished maybe 30-feet from the cup. He then putted up to around three-feet. As he stood over the ball, the implications of my ‘humour’ began to hit home.

What was he going to say if he missed?

Would I get the blame for planting a negative seed in his head?

Thankfully, Greg made the putt for a fifteenth consecutive par. But walking off green he looked me in the eye and said, “Yes, I was thinking what you were thinking.”

On the other hand, it is also possible to innocently fall foul of the surprise mood swings players can be prone to mid-round. In another Swiss Senior Open, I was on the bag for another pal, Australian Peter O’Malley, who is one of the nicest people anyone could wish to meet. Not quite all of the time though. Walking up a fairway, I was loudly castigated for the apparently heinous crime of “not walking in a straight line.” ‘Pom’ was also irritated with me when, after he missed a short putt, he asked me what had happened.

“What do you mean, what happened?” “You have to tell me. I’m putting with my eyes shut.”

Then there was the time I caddied for my pal Clayton in the Australian Senior Open at Royal Perth. On the 5th hole I had walked forward to where the drives were likely to finish. By the time Mike arrived I had worked out the yardage for the approach shot. “You’re wrong,” he said.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

The end result was that Mike’s ball, struck with his 7-iron rather than the 8- I recommended, landed on the next tee. Walking to the green he had another look at his yardage book.

“F£&@!” he said. “This thing is from the event in Spain three weeks ago.”

All of the above just goes to show what a complicated business caddying can be. The men – and women – who do it best make it look easy. But it is far from that, even if there are only three absolute pre-requisites:

An ability to count. A strong back. And – here’s the really important one – owning a personality compatible with the player you are caddying for.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I still haven’t heard back from Monty. He’s not wrong though. We might not even have made it to his second shot.