They Carry More Than Bags
Not tomorrow, and probably not next month, but years from now
someone is going to study the history of golf and realize just
how important caddies were the success of those players whose
bags they carried.
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| Shayne Grier with Hubert Green at the
1977 U.S. Open at Southern Hills CC in Tulsa, OK. Caddies
can no longer stay behind a player as they putt on today's
Pro Tour. |
But when the book is finally written on great championships throughout
golf history, the astute author will be compelled to devote a
large section to the men behind the winners, to the king-makers
- bother the club caddies who know their courses like nobody's
business and the tour caddies who work full-time for a tour professional.
That historian may well end up being Rick Reily, the golf writer
who recently visited Cape Cod to begin research for a book on
the art of caddying. His visit was arrange to capture a caddies-eye
view of John Daly at work, in this case while Long John played
in the annual charity tournament hosted by Paul and Phyllis Fireman
at Willowbend. Reily's short visit did not include conversations
with some locals who have excelled at the job, nor did he investigate
the Cape & Islands' unique place in the annals of caddie craft,
specifically its tradition of caddie camping. (It's a good thing
that Reilly anticipates about three years of research for his
book!)
Item: Camp Sankaty Head on Nantucket is the last remaining caddie
camp in the country.
Item: Brad Faxon's grandfather is a living legend among caddies,
thanks to his work with caddie campers at Woods Hole and Wianno.
Item: Cape viewers of weekend televised golf have a better chance
of seeing a native son carrying clubs rather than swinging clubs,
and it is our caddies who are most often visible near Sunday winner's
circles.
Years ago, the caddie on the fringes of the winner's circle might
have been Shayne Grier, who looped for Jack Nicklaus but made
his reputation with Hubert Green. Or it may have been Jim Horvath,
whose boss was Mike Reid before Horvath settled down to business
and family on Cape (and started winning tournaments of his own,
such as the Seagulls Fourball at Hyannisport).
These days its Greg Rita, one of the most coveted and successful
caddies the game has ever seen. Rita's Client list reads like
a Who's Who of Winners: Gil Morgan, Curtis Strange, Mark O'Meara,
David Duval, Scott Hoch...
As Golf on Cape Cod went to press, Rita was in Connecticut working
for Brent Geiberger at the Greater Hartford Open, while his father,
Dick Rita, and Dick's wife Deborah watched from home in East Orleans.
Rita has a special arrangement with O'Meara: he works full-time
for O'Meara out of Orlando, but he's allowed to caddie for others
when O'Meara isn't playing.
This privilege is the direct result of Rita's successful career
record and serves as testimony to the powerful role that caddies
play in their boss' success.
Once upon a time, caddies were merely a convenience for people
who didn't want to lug their own bags. Some of the more exclusive
country clubs realized the essential nature of this amenity, and
so they began to train teenage boys for the job, giving rise to
caddie camps.
These camps flourished, putting money into the pockets of boys
who did the work, and reinforcing the feeling of privilege enjoyed
by those who used the,. Then along came the golf cart, and caddie
camps went the way of sailing camps, with attrition reducing their
numbers to near extinction.
Golf's popularity boom, however, and the attendant explosion in
prize money and corporate sponsorship gave rise to a new breed
of employee - the tour caddie.
Grier shared with us a story from the 1974 British Open that speaks
volumes about the player's appreciation for the tour caddie. Though
Shayne was working for Green at the time, Lee Trevino managed
to become a CO-beneficiary of his expertise.
Before the tournament, Grier walked the Roy Lytham & St. Anne's
Course in Lancashire, England, pretty much every inch of it, and
compiled his own set of yardages - not just to the pins, but to
bunkers, over water, all of it. This is information that today's
players take for granted, but it was hard to come by 27 years
ago.
Green told his caddie that he wouldn't mind if the little book
were open for all to see, an act of generosity that Trevino gradually
came to accept. After an opening round in the mid-70's, Trevino
began helping himself to the numbers as a matter of routine, and
proceeded to shoot a 68. Afterward, Trevino turned to Grier and
said, "Partner, I owe you."
Grier who is no 52 and lives on Lewis Bay in Hyannis, has gotten
a lot of ink this year, for another caddie moment that ranks right
up there in the annals of sport. The strange, 24-year-old-tale
of intrigue resurfaced again this summer, when the US Open Championship
returned to Southern Hills CC for the first time since 1977.
That was the year when Hubert Green took the title - despite a
death
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| Greg Rita on the bag for Brent Geiberger
at the 2001 Greater Hartford Open. |
threat that wasn't delivered to him until he walked between
the 14th green and No. 15 - the hole where an unidentified woman
caller to local police said Green would be shot. The news not
delivered to Grier until after the 15th hole, which made for some
dramatic movements between player and caddie.
Grier had no idea why Green kept shooing him away, all the way
from tee to green, until the policemen explained the situation
to him on he next hole. That's where Grier assured Green that
he was tough enough to stay caddie-close, that he didn't buy into
the threat and neither should Grenn. As Grier told one publication
that reprised the saga, "It was one of my better caddie moments.
It got us back into a normal situation."
These days Grier is still involved with golf, playing to an 8
handicap out of Cummaquid GC when he finds time to squeeze in
a round after working for the Steamship Authority as a contract
negotiator. Grier also enjoys spotting for tournaments in the
area when time allows, "just because I love the game."
Although he hasn't caddied in a number of years, his place in
golf history is secure, and not because of the death threat. It
was his behind-the-putt-green-reading for Hubert Green that promoted
the USGA to enact a rule banning that practice, he told us the
other day at Dennis Highlands. Caddies now must walk away after
reading the breaks for their players: a subsection of Rule 16.
What's chronic about it, Grier told Golf on Cape Cod, is that
he was "horrible" at reading putts.
"Caddies don't hit them, so they shouldn't say much about
them unless the player asks, "Grier said, "and even
then it should only be to confirm what the player thinks."
At the heart of the caddie's trade is his ability to communicate
with the player to the player's best advantage, Grier said, "That
means knowing when to speak and knowing when to shut up."
Grier learned these skills at Worcester Country Club under the
tutelage of Ray Lajoi, director of what Grier called the "premiere
caddie program in the nation."
Another one of the heroes of the trade is Ray Faxon, former caddie
camp director at Woods Hole and Wianno, now 93, retired, and living
in Falmouth. Golf on Cape Cod caught up with Ray the day after
his grandson, "Braddy" Faxon, as he called him, earned
$121,625 for his play in the Buick Classic.
"I never heard of that! He finished in a tie for sixth!"
the senior Faxon exclaimed. "I remember when I was a stock
broker, and they used to give me fifty dollars a month!"
As times have changed, so has the nature of the caddie's relationship
with the player.
Where Faxon's caddies would earn 50 cents a round and get expelled
from camp if they took a tip, today's caddies can work on a combination
of salary and percentage of the prize money, and they can collect
a heftier share of the prize money depending on where the player
finishes. It might be five percent for a 16th-place finish, or
10 percent for a win.
Caddies such as Fluff Cowan and Steve Williams (to name two of
Tiger Woods' bag-lopers) become richer than many of the players
on tour. After all, 10 percent of a million dollars is $100,000
- multiplied several times over each year for the caddies of the
best.
If Brad Faxon and his caddie had a standard agreement going at
the Buick in Westchester, the caddie took home about five percent
of Faxon's check, or about $6,000 for the week's work.
When I started out in 1928," Ray Faxon said, "my (late)
brother George was camp director at Woods Hole and I worked for
him before going on to Wianno and starting the camp there. We
had 50 boys and two rules: If you were caught smoking or taking
a tip you were sent home immediately."
Yes, the introduction of carts in the middle of last century killed
his business, he admitted, but that's ancient history at this
point. Ray Faxon said he is happy just to be "80 percent
vertical!"
And so the caddie camp story lives on in only one corner of the
country, at Sankaty Head on Nantucket, where since 1964 boys have
become caddies under the watchful eye of Doug Ellsworth, Doug
carries on a tradition that began 77 years ago when Sankaty first
opened.
"My surrogate dad was camp director Norman Claxton,"
Ellsworth said," and I got the job from him." And he's
been at it ever since.
"I believe in the deal," he said. "What's golf
without caddies?"
For one thing it's not as much fun, Grier will tell you without
fear or self-inflation. "A lot of times in competition, the
only conversation available to the player is with his caddie,
because his playing partners aren't talking. You end up becoming
a team out there."
There's also the local knowledge aspect, which is what Sankaty's
caddies have to offer, should a player ask. "One thing we
teach them is to keep their mouths shut unless they're asked a
question," Ellsworth said.
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| Today, Grier plays to an 8 handicap
out of Cummaquid Golf Club. |
The caddie camp at Sakaty Head, a working camp, runs about 10
weeks each summer - from the third week in June through August.
It is difficult to get into, due to high retention from year to
year and the limited number of spots available. For that reason,
Ellsworth is recruiting 14- and 15-year-olds so that he can have
them longer. "We have so many returnees, we started an alumni
association," Ellsworth added.
More than 100 hopeful lads seek enrollment in the camp each summer,
but only a few are selected. Criteria for acceptance include interest
in golf, recommendations from former campers, size of the young
man (bigger is better), and former caddie experience. Economic
need and a decent academic record are also considered.
Campers pay $40 registration fee (refundable at the end of the
season by the camp paying for the camper's last eight days of
room and board), plus $5 per day for room and board.
The boys are given one day off per week, take full responsibility
for the camp, cutting grass and painting, as if it were their
own home. They also participate in team sports at least three
times per week.
Not only do campers learn about caddying, but they also learn
about money management. Bank accounts are set up for each boy,
who may then make deposits and withdrawals under supervision.
They learn also about loyalty and discipline.
Ellsworth said that the most satisfying aspect of the camp is
the associations that the campers make over the years, with each
other and with members and their guests. One of the club's most
prominent members has factored into this equation is Jack Welch,
a former CEO of General Electric, who lives on Nantucket an occasionally
wins club championships at Sankaty.
"He's just been a tremendous influence on so many of the
boys, both with their schooling and with jobs after college,"
Ellsworth said.
And how is it that Sankaty's caddie camp continues to thrive when
all others have been rendered extinct?
The continuing success of this caddie camp, operated by the Sankaty
Head Foundation, is directly attributable to generous donations
from the club's membership. The nonprofit Foundation has invested
heavily in the caddie cape facility and, this year alone, has
stockpiled $72,000 for student scholarships.
Ellsworth thinks that "this place is going to last forever"
and Doug will surely be ready when Rick Reilly comes calling him
at (508)-257-6297 for that interview.
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