The Full Monte – The Journal of a Champions Tour Caddy

The Full Monte – The Journal of a Champions Tour Caddy

 

     What to say – and when to say it?  Those are the two biggest challenges of a caddy for a professional golfer on the Champions Tour. 

     The instant message from Scott Masingill popped up on my computer last Monday morning. Monte, I got into Baltimore as an alternate. Can you caddy?   It was September 11th, and I was sitting at home with my laptop watching tv coverage of the 5th year anniversary of 9-11. I had the day off, prepared to relax and run some errands.

     What to say – and when to say it.  I hesitated for just a second, trying to figure out how to re-arrange my schedule the rest of my week so I could give Scott a hand at The Constellation Energy Classic at Hayfields Country Club in Hunt Valley, Maryland – a suburb, just off Interstate 83, north of Baltimore. I made a quick call to my general manager at The Peninsula Golf & Country Club, explaining the opportunity and my desire to take some spur of the moment vacation days.

     My name is Monte Schisler, I work for Troon Golf as Membership Director and we manage a Jack Nicklaus Signature Design Course, inside a gated high-end residential community just west of Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. We had a Pro-Am scheduled for Tuesday, and the upcoming weekend was our 1st Annual Club Championship. But of all the people he could have asked, Scott called me, and I had to go. Actually I wanted to go. Little did I know that I was about to embark on a weeklong journey as a professional caddy, a week that would be one of the greatest weeks of my life. I called him back, told Scott I would meet him at Hayfields Tuesday morning, and not to worry about a thing – I would be on the bag all week. 

     Immediately I drove out to my office at The Peninsula - took care of a few messages, sent an e-mail to our ownership group, some staff and a handful of members – explaining that I would be gone for the week. I encouraged everyone to watch the Golf Channel coverage Friday thru Sunday, and to keep an eye on the leaderboard for Scott Masingill.  I had such high hopes.  I was excited and a little nervous all at the same time. No one here knows Scott – but you wouldn’t have known it.  Everyone I talked to said good luck and have fun.  That was a relief.

     My next call was to Bill Spotts, a friend of mine I know here at the beach.  He is a member at Hayfields and I asked if I could stay with him and his wife Beth and young son Anthony.  No worries he said, you can have the basement.  This was perfect - Spottsy lives just a few minutes from the course – and could give me a few pointers about the layout. Inside knowledge I could pass along to Scott. All the arrangements were made – I could relax.

     Try sleeping when you know you’re going to be inside the ropes, on the bag for a tour player in search of his 1st Top 10 finish of the year.  I was up at 4 am, packed and ready, on the road for the 2 hour drive to Hayfields. The weather forecast called for a little rain early in the week – I threw in my raingear and some extra towels. I had plenty of time to kill – Scott’s flight didn’t get in until 2 am and he was going to sleep in a little.  We planned to meet at the course for a practice round at 11 am.  I was ready to live the caddy credo, the three up’s – show up, shut up and keep up.

     I arrived at the crack of dawn, followed the signs and immediately drove to the caddy parking lot, adjacent to the 9th fairway.  I met a couple of fellow loopers, except these guys were tour regulars and I was a rookie at my 1st event.  Even though I tried to act like I knew what I was doing and where to go – they recognized my deer in the headlights look and directed me to the caddy tent up on the hill near the clubhouse.

     Once inside the tent, an elderly tournament volunteer walked me thru caddy registration. He gave me a sheet of rules and regulations, showed me where the extra towels were and asked if I needed to buy a yardage book.  I shelled out my money for this course survival guide that’s filled with every sprinkler head, front of the green yardage, carry distance, lay-up and rollout that you would need for the tournament – I also grabbed a pencil for behind my ear and I was off.  That same tournament volunteer nodded, gave me a pat on the back and told me there would be hot coffee, sodas and water available all week, along with breakfast and lunch. I had made my first friend for the week.

     This is where things get interesting.  The other caddies milling around the tent and nearby players parking lot labeled me an outsider and gave me glaring looks as I strolled thru the area trying to pass myself off as one of them.  Finally, one of older guys approached – asking who I was working for.  I told him Scott Masingill, and he said great, I’ll take him off my list. What to say – and when to say it. So I said, what list?  He explained the guys here in the lot were looking for bags for the tournament. They’re looking for a job and I had taken one away.  He told me his name was Joe D. He smiled, wished me good luck and walked away – turning back over his shoulder he said if I needed anything to just ask.  My 2nd friend – I felt a little more at ease. 

     It didn’t take long for word to spread about the rookie.  I quickly met Rabbit, Nickie, Butch, Mikey, Beer Man, and Coach – among others.  Most were friendly; still others were a little stand-offish.  Trying to intimidate me – trying to mark their turf – trying to let me know I was on their tour.  This was no member-guest back at the club.

     What to say – and when to say it.  This time I stood quiet and smiled, taking a deep breath trying not to act nervous or out of place.  As we say back home in Missouri – this isn’t my first rodeo.  I had caddied in the US Amateur, Mid-Amateur, PGA Section Club-Pro events, a Nike Tour skins game, The Delaware Open and earlier this summer I carried the bag for Jack Nicklaus during his inaugural round at The Peninsula, where he set the course record. I am in the PGA program as an apprentice, I play on a regular basis, and give a lesson or two now and then to a handful of members at the club. This was going to be a piece of cake, or so I thought.  

     Finally the friendly face I’ve been waiting for all morning.  Scott pulled up in his courtesy car.  Joe D hollered over at me as I started to eat a sandwich in the caddy tent, “your guy just drove in”. I said thanks and see you later – as I threw what was left of my cold BBQ sandwich in the trash.  I grabbed a bottle of water and was on my way. 

     Scott greeted me with a huge smile and handshake and said thanks for coming. We talked about the rain in the forecast, I said no problem, I’m here for the week, rain or shine.  He went over the schedule – practice round today.  Pro-Am on Wednesday, a day off or practice on Thursday, then tournament rounds on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  Come to find out later, we would play in the Thursday Pro-Am as well, filling in for a player that injured his back and needed to pull out for the day. 
     After signing in, and securing his locker in the clubhouse, Scott said he would meet me in front of the fitness trailer in an hour.  We grabbed a cart, I loaded up the clubs and we were off to the range.  Scott was groggy from his long trip across country from Idaho. What to say – and when to say it. We talked on the practice tee – catching up on life since we first ran into each other during a corporate outing at Branson Creek in Missouri.  He worked for Prime Inc., a Springfield based trucking company that held several corporate outings in Branson. I looked forward to the Prime events, because I could catch up with Scott and see how he was playing, since he was a Monday qualifier on tour back then. He was very gracious with his time back then, and things haven’t changed since he made it thru Q-School last fall. He asked me about how I liked the beach and how the club was doing. Scott wondered if I missed Missouri. I told him about my time with Nicklaus this summer and during the construction phase of The Peninsula. I asked how he was feeling – he had this little crick in his neck that was bothering him, but a little time warming up and then a practice round to get our first view of Hayfields Country Club – he would be fine.  He striped ball after ball on the range – we were ready, or so I thought. It might not seem like it to the average spectator, but life on the practice tee, is much different than the 1st tee come Friday of tournament week.

     Scott played alone Tuesday afternoon – hitting 2 balls on each hole more times than not. Trying to get a feel for the course and the east coast air.  It was cloudy and cool and the ball wasn’t flying far.  Hayfields was damp and the ball wasn’t rolling much in the fairway.  The greens were soft and a little slow.  I had the yardage book, making special notes along the way. Scott carries a laser in his bag – I could use it during practice and the pro-am’s – but not during the tournament rounds.  We figured good lay-up yardage on the par 5’s, second guessed pin placements for the week, and casually scraped it around.  The amazing thing – even though Scott has been discouraged about his play lately – he can still hit the golf ball with such precision. Sneaky long too when he had to be. A soft touch with the 58 degree wedge when he misses a green. And his putting is remarkable. His new “Ball Position Putter” has him stroking the ball with such confidence – he couldn’t stop talking about the flat stick during the week. As a special bonus he included me during a private fitting session with the club’s maker Bob McCarthy of MACS Custom Putting Systems.

<PCLASS=MSONORMAL style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">     At the end of the practice round Scott said he’d had enough for one day. He was tired and needed to get adjusted to east coast time.  We had our plan for the week, meeting the next morning at 11 for the Pro-Am shotgun start at 1 pm.

     Scott was very gracious and gave me a set of “family credentials” that would allow me in the clubhouse and the players only dining room.  I told him I was fine and knew my way around, and unless he really wanted me to join him, I’d rather hang out with my caddy brethren over in the tent.  I felt I would have lost the respect of the caddies if one of them saw me walk out of the clubhouse with my player.  I was a caddy for the week – so I wanted to live their life.  A limited menu of luke-warm coffee, cold sandwiches, bad bananas, stale doughnuts, and a lot of whining about this, that and the other during their round.  And so much complaining about their guy – his mood, his play, his anything and everything.  I felt lucky to be on Scott’s bag – he’s very confident and is always smiling and finding the good with every shot.  He wasn’t going to verbally abuse me – at least that was my hope.

     Even though it rained, Scott really shines during the Pro-Am.  With no disrespect intended, he’s probably not the top player on everyone’s wish list the night the Pro-Am pairings are announced. But I can guarantee one thing – there isn’t an amateur that leaves the tournament that wasn’t thrilled for the opportunity to play with Scott, rain or shine.  He engages everyone.  He gives them tips and encouragement, and asks what they do for a living – and how business has been. He told me I should have a nickname, like the other caddies.  He said we’ll call you “Mudder”, since it’s rained all week and you’re trouncing thru the turf like a racehorse up the road at Pemlico. What to say – and when to say it. I was their caddy too – and Scott asked me to rake all their bunkers, take out all the flags, hold out the umbrellas, and wipe down all their clubs and grips.  I gave those same players that paid big money to play Wednesday and Thursday the same yardages and advice I would give Scott during the tournament. This is the amateur’s opportunity to play on tour – and Scott makes sure they enjoy it every step of the way. Our work paid off, one of our Pro-Am players from Baltimore gave us his season tickets to the Orioles – Red Sox game that night, along with a parking pass at Camden Yards. What a treat – the left field seats, and it finally stopped raining.  Believe it or not, some players don’t stick around after the Pro-Am, let alone sit for a long lunch and a beer, exchange e-mail addresses and autograph their team picture. It’s all about building relationships and Scott is the very best at this.

     The fun and games of the Pro-Am are over.  Scott told his teams, on both days, not to be discouraged that they didn’t win – because if you win a Pro-Am, the players in the locker room will question handicaps and the Pro is the target for some good natured heckling the rest of the week. Anyone could cheat the system just to win a small piece of crystal, but golf is a game of integrity. Our guys appreciated the pep talk and didn’t seem to mind our “middle of the field” finish – wished us well for the tournament and said they would come out and join the gallery.  I could tell Scott was very appreciative – knowing this might be the only gallery he would have for the weekend.  He’s not exactly a household name on the east coast – except for my members down the road at The Peninsula that now know of his story, and my parents in Missouri who promised to watch the golf channel.  I would wear my pink Peninsula hat in tribute to a couple of friends “back home” that have been diagnosed recently with breast cancer. We could only hope for a great 3 rounds during the tournament.