My 24-hour day on Monday last week took a toll on me. Luckily, Robert wasn't flying in until Tuesday night, so I had all day to check out the courses.
The boys in the caddie tent were complaining but at the same time relieved that last week's AT&T Pebble Beach National Pro-Am was the year's final multiple-course tournament. Ten courses in four weeks wear a looper out, and February weather in northern California is no picnic during our six-plus-hour rounds. This tournament is the tour's most physically challenging week, so before it, a few caddies develop bad backs, family obligations at home or weddings to attend. You try to avoid Pebble if you can.
In 1937, Bing Crosby gathered a few friends for the first National Pro-Amateur Golf Championship in Rancho Santa Fe, Calif. Sam Snead won the first event and earned $500. The tournament moved to the Monterey Peninsula after World War II. It's absolutely beautiful here, but every caddie wishes it were in southern California or scheduled during the summer. The Champions Tour plays here Labor Day weekend, and the first year that the older guys teed it up, the PGA Tour heard a few complaints. Some of the youngsters were whining, "Why can't we play that week instead of the seniors?" I worked a couple of those Champions Tour events, and it was nice not having to pack for rainy, wintry weather.
You need a second suitcase for your weather gear if you caddie this week. It's like packing for a ski trip ... or maybe a hunting expedition. You have to prepare for all types of weather. I threw in two pairs of long underwear, earmuffs, two wool sweaters, two pairs of tennis shoes (an old pair of Nikes I could throw away and waterproof GoreTex Eccos), long-sleeved tee shirts, wool socks, stocking cap, gloves, Under Armour and a ProQuip/Sunderland rain suit combo. You live in your rain suit at Pebble, so it doesn't matter what the layers look like underneath.
During a practice round one year, Mike Carrick -- Tom Kite's caddie -- ended up with his group's gear. As the round progressed and the day warmed up, everyone peeled off his sweater and jacket, then stuffed it in Tom's bag. After finishing up No. 18 at Pebble Beach, Corey Pavin walked over and asked for his sweater, and the rest of the group followed suit. Carrick had thought the bag was a bit heavy but, like a true veteran, never complained. He just suffered through the round. Pebble Beach makes you forget about the miserable conditions, even when you're the brunt of a cruel joke.
Dressing for a tournament round is an art; staying warm and dry is essential. Caddies have their little tricks. During early mornings in the caddie tent, you see all types of gear. You also see the crusty old veterans touching the clothing of the members of the new caddie regime and asking about certain products' effectiveness. It's a strange fashion show with no pretty models anywhere. We'll wear anything that will help us survive "Sloppy Hills" and the six-hour treks around Pebble and Spyglass. The Pebble Beach flu and sniffles are no fun; your body takes a few days to recuperate after this tournament.
My secret is to use dry-cleaner plastic, chemical hand warmers and baby powder. I place the plastic between my thin, first sock and my outer wool sock. The feet stay dry, and the shoes still fit. The hand warmers go in my hat and underwear. These areas regulate your body temperature, and those strategically placed small packets keep you toasty. Plus, I add a heavy dose of baby powder between clothing layers to absorb perspiration. When I undress at night, I look like the Charlie Brown character Pigpen.
God forbid you overdress, get too sweaty and have to start peeling off clothes during the round. Your pro already has his gear in the bag, and it weighs 10 pounds more than usual. You don't want any extra pounds; the bag is already too heavy for the sloppy conditions. Slipping and sliding uphill and downhill, with 40 to 50 pounds on your back, causes a few injuries. Friday, while walking up the hill on the sixth hole at Pebble, I was precariously close to the cliff when the bag shifted. I started to lean the wrong way but caught myself and backtracked to safer ground. We were in the middle of making a double, and no one was there to grab me. I wouldn't have been missed until Robert reached the green and no clubs were available.
I even missed my favorite relief spot behind the fifth green after Robert made me go back to the tee box. It was just a bad hole from the start and probably took us out of the tournament. We'd been gathering momentum -- 2 under for the day and 2 over for the tournament -- with plenty of holes to play. Usually, he allows me to be a forecaddie here and enjoy the view in my own way. I guess we disrupted our rhythm.
You also have to keep your pro and his equipment warm and dry. When it is 45 degrees and raining sideways, that becomes quite a chore. But somehow we manage. Guys will duct-tape the bottom of the bag so water doesn't seep in, and I've heard that some caddies sprinkle kitty litter in there to soak up moisture. This week I saw a couple of plastic sleeves that completely covered bags. Anything to keep things dry.
On the course, it's all about handling the umbrella and keeping the grips dry. Another trick is to insert a tee into the end of your driver. When the driver goes back into the bag, the grip doesn't touch the bottom, where the water collects. We were lucky this week, but there have been times when the weather made our job almost impossible.
Extra towels are mandatory. A small one dangling inside the umbrella, a large one with the dry end tucked inside my rain jacket and the wet end exposed below my chin. I learned the trick from caddie Jeff "Squeaky" Medlin and golfer Nick Price years ago; it looks a little kinky when the pro reaches for the towel, but it works. It's all about freeing your hands so you can maneuver.
Standing next to the ball, I secure the bag holding the strap between my legs so I can hold the umbrella and calculate yardage at the same time. It's a big help if a pro cooperates, but if he gets cranky, life gets ugly. I hold the umbrella a few moments, clean a club once in a while and wipe off the ball occasionally. Then I can keep the yardage book from getting soggy and go about my five or six other caddie details. An extra hand or two definitely can help the process.
You also have to watch your meals the night before. Garlic-loaded meals (my favorite), chili and many beers don't fit the next day under an umbrella. You are working in close quarters, so you have to be very careful, if you know what I mean. Altoids, Dentyne gum, extra deodorant, body spray, etc. are essential during rainy weather. There have been many a caddie and a few players kicked out from under the umbrella because of improper bodily functions. The layers of clothes and a rain suit might cover up issues the first few holes, but a six-hour round provides some intimate moments.
We didn't play a practice round this year. Robert hit a bunch of balls Wednesday and tested new drivers instead. Spyglass and Poppy haven't changed, but I walked them Tuesday. We really didn't need a practice round, but in hindsight, maybe we should have played at least nine, practicing our short game a bit. We stunk on the par-5s and couldn't get it up and down from anyplace. With a little work around the greens, making the cut would have been possible.
Tom Dreesen was the celebrity with whom we played during the pro-am, and we also were paired with PGA Tour veteran Bob Estes and musician Kenny G. Tom's an old buddy, an average golfer who doesn't take his game too seriously, and we have a lot of fun with him. Bob is a methodical, quiet pro, and Kenny G is an obsessed scratch golfer. They have the same instructor who followed us every round, and Kenny spent more time this week on the practice tee than most pros.
Tom was busy telling jokes and making wisecracks, while Kenny was analyzing his swing between shots. On Saturday, as we were approaching Spyglass' 13th green, Kenny's music was blasting from a neighboring house. Tom turned to the couple in the yard and yelled, "Excuse me, I think your elevator doors are open. I hear elevator music." Kenny laughed, but I don't think he thought it was as funny as we did.
The celebrity field allows us peons to mingle with the upper crust a bit. I chatted with Lynn Swann by the practice green one day but mainly watched the celebrities go about their golf. Playing in front of us each day were Stone Phillips and Michael Bolton, and behind us were Ken Griffey Jr. and Chris Berman. I'd been out with Griffey and Bolton before but had never experienced the others' golf games. It reminded me of the Clint Eastwood movie "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly." And no, I'm not going to divulge who's who. You'll have to figure it out yourself.
In a way, missing the cut was lucky. We didn't have to sit around Sunday waiting to play. The tour officials make every effort to play a round of golf, and that means holding everyone at the course 'til the last possible minute.
Some guys sneak back to their hotel rooms, but usually everybody hangs out and eats. The players get a five-course buffet, and we get cold cuts, chili dogs and popcorn. Years ago, we didn't get a thing and had to fight for a sheltered spot out of the rain, so I'm not complaining.
There's also a lot of storytelling during the lull. A few card games break out, but these days almost everyone retreats to his BlackBerry or iPhone. A good ballgame will draw a crowd around the TV, but you won't find a dice game in the cart barn anymore. Ah, the good ol' days. If it's a sure thing the round will be canceled, you might find a few guys sipping a discreet adult beverage.
They had to cancel the final round, and Dustin Johnson found out at 7:30 a.m. local time Monday that he was the champion. A friend called to congratulate him, and initially he thought it was a joke.
No joke, he's the champ, and even though it's a 54-holer, it doesn't diminish his achievement. Everyone played the same event, and he beat all comers under the same conditions. They knew the weather forecast, and there was a possibility of a shortened tournament. Whoever has the lowest score still earns the winner's check, an invitation to the Masters in Augusta and all the other accolades.
Not one pro would put an asterisk beside Dustin's win, and no pro would turn down the opportunity to trade places with him this week. Bob Murphy won a couple of rain-shortened events while I was on the bag. The check cashed just fine, and neither of us lost any sleep.
This was a week for the long-ballers, and Dustin is one of the best of the young, long hitters. Watch out AK and Camillo, there's another young gun in town.
Mark Huber has a golf blog at www.MarksKaddyKorner.com and can be contacted at markskaddykorner@gmail.com.