After the round, on the way back to the clubhouse, John Denver asked me what was the loop fee for today. I said that a tournament loop fee was a hundred dollars, thinking he must know that, with him knowing everything else about my job. He gave me a hundred dollars and said, “Split that between the two of you, meaning Bob and I.”
When I gave Bob the news, we both knew that John Denver did know how to get over on caddies and why his girlfriend caddied for him during the tournament. Other caddies have felt our pain, and we spread the word to the choir, but they already knew that he did not pay well and that was why in the tournament his girlfriend caddied for him.
Johnny Mathis was a cool guy, very open to my yardage and putt lines and that I was going to give him the best information at the right time. Caddying for Johnny was a treat. The best of it was this gentleman of the same race as myself, showed me that black men in the music business that he performed in, soft rock, was not the normal for black artists. His style and manner was of a man and a performer that respected that the people around him were there doing their job to help him. All he had to do was perform, and this made the loop easy. He only had to play the game, hit the ball, and he allowed me to do my job as a caddie, dream job.
I don’t remember the score or how Johnny played. It was just a great day on the course with a star that I had heard of and was happy to be of service.
Michel Bolton was also a tournament loop. He had played in the AT&T the year before and did not make the cut to play on Sunday, and that was our goal for the week—to make the cut and play on Sunday. For Michael that was his goal, to play on Sunday. For me it was one more loop. I had to find that trust in Michael that we could work together without the doubt of player and caddie. We worked hard on that and found that the best thing was to play one shot at a time to get a par with a stroke on that hole with a handicap of 11. That meant that on more than half the holes, we could pick up a birdie and let the pro make the pars and birdies and do the ham-and-egg thing.
I also caddied for Alice Cooper on just another loop day at Pebble Beach and as advertised the man can play some golf. I did not get an autograph from Mr. Cooper; that was only because I was too busy making sure that I did not blow a call, and I had to exceed his expectations as a caddie at Pebble Beach, because he was somewhat of a regular at Pebble, and the word was going to get out if I failed. Very cool guy without the makeup, something I knew was a thing that most people would never get to see—Alice Cooper without makeup, great loop. Thanks, Alice Cooper, you can play some golf.
Darius Rucker of the band Hootie & the Blowfish came into town, and it was my turn on the box with another caddie, Craig Cox. I got to caddie for Darius and Dean; Craig Cox got Sonny and Mark. I have heard of the band, and they were on their way up the charts. My longtime friend Dennis Avila’s girlfriend, Pagie, was talking about the band and the lead singer of Hootie. US Weekly showed up to take some pictures; it was a big deal for the day.
Darius could play golf, not sure of the HDP. At the time, not that that mattered either because I had a job to do—again, exceed his expectations, which I did and later was able to caddie for Darius in the next AT&T. Also, I was given two tickets for the upcoming show in San Jose. At that time Hootie & the Blowfish was the opening act for Toad the Wet Sprocket. After their show I was taken over to another seat, and we watched Toad the Wet Sprocket together—very cool.
Just to shake things up, not all guests are cool when caddies see a bag tag from the LA Country Club. There was a cold shiver down the backside of the body, and I said a small prayer to, “Please, Lord, let this loop not be my last.”
Los Angeles people are a little different, not sure what to say about that other then they tend to go to the comment card or complain more than most people, not a lot to say about that other then it was not my fault, and can we just move on? I am cool with me, sorry you are not, and it takes a bigger man not to eat your downer salad when you have tossed it to perfection, as if you are the downer salad chef of the world. I have never felt more useless on a loop.
There was another group of guys from LA we called the music guys because some to most of them were in the music business. They were so LA. If you cannot beat them, go after them; take them out.
This group came every year, and Pebble Beach did everything to accommodate them. The caddies even caddied singles, working for one player for the two days. Some of the guys were pretty cool to be around. I caddied in this event and had a player or two win the two-day event. As a matter of fact, the word got out that the guy with the best caddies always win or finish in the money, so let’s change that up. The caddies will carry two bags for whomever came up next, and no working for the same guy every day—that will help others play well.
The only thing wrong with that is I got a guy that was just a bad golfer. On the second hole of the first day he give up, and said, “I never win. I am just so bad.” Will, one thing for sure is, you do not listen to your caddie. From the back left of hole number two at Pebble Beach out of the rough, you do not punch your eight iron out of the rough to the green. It will run across the green and into the bunker. Use the sand wedge and play the shot to the right away from the pin and bunker. To the front of the green, it will go left when it slows down for a makeable uphill putt.
“I cannot hit my sand wedge. Go get my eight iron.” I dragged my slave ass back to his bag that I left sixty yards back in the fairway. At my shortcut to forecaddie the next hole to get his eight iron, I looked for a rack because I was going to need one soon. Three shots later from the bunker we were on the green. Nice ten, sir.
Couches Classic is another group that comes to play Pebble Beach once a year. One year I caddied for a coach that did not do all the right things. He played okay, nothing there. Putting, chipping, all that. It’s just that he forgot some strokes along the way and would ask what his score on a hole was, and often he would say, “If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying hard enough.”
In football if you are not cheating you are not trying hard enough to win the game. A hold here, a hold there, you can make a first down on the next play; the clock is still running.
On another loop for a guest from Canada, I caddied for two players, and Scotty P. caddied for the other twosome in the group. It was a good day, nothing out of the normal. The group laughed, and the pace was pretty good. After the loop, Scott asked me about my tip, which was a good tip for a good day, and he told me his tip was not all that.
Sometimes when there is a minute, a caddie would tell a joke. One of Scotty’s favorite jokes was one of those question-and-answer jokes; this joke could not come at a worst time. What is the difference between a canoe and a Canuck? A canoe will tip. Not good, Scotty, not good. These guys are from Canada.
I was caddying for a father-and-son twosome. It was early in the round, on our way to the fourth tee box. I saw a lady coming down the road in a customer-service cart. The cart was a long cart with a second row of seats. I thought the cart was from the spa Casa Permero.
Now here is the moment that I thought to myself, Do I say something to the players? In a locker-room guy moment, the lady was large in size and covered in a robe head to toe. The cart did not turn right to the beach club, it headed right toward us on the fourth tee box. It was his wife, glad I did not say anything to the guest about his wife, who he said was Rosan Barr. It was not Tom Arnold; it was the guy after Tom. I pretty much kept my jokes safe because you never know, timing is everything.
I caddied for Michael Douglas one day after driving to LA Improv on Gayley Ave in Los Angeles. We talked about my long drive there and back twice a week, the miles and time it took, and Michael asked me, why I wanted to live and work in LA when I worked at Pebble Beach. The day was one of those days. It was just perfect: no wind, no fog, no clouds in the sky, and that was all I needed to hear on the second fairway. I knew at that moment that he was looking for a good caddie job from me.
We talked some