Why we all need a tour-level caddie
While bloodying myself on the front nine at Mill Creek today (I rebounded with 41 from the tips on the back), I had an epiphany. I believe that tour players, if forced to carry their own bags or ride with a partner in a cart, would score higher than they currently do. This is a nice and logical notion, albeit not one that really affects any of us chops. The aspect that does influence us, however, is the inversion; each of us would improve a minimum of five strokes per round (unless you are a 4 or less handica). Without further (or Freddy) ado, here is my list of reasons why a pro caddie will help us all:
1) A stroll in the park
–How nice is it to have someone else shoulder the load, clean your golf balls, and hand your clubs without dirt in the grooves? Enough said.
–Imagine having your favorite teacher, coach, parent, friend at your side, with knowledge on the matter at hand, willing to share it in a selfless way. Cool!
3) A good read
–RonMon is visually challenged, seeing only two of three dimensions at any time. Length and width are usually spot on, but it’s depth that causes me to misread the break (does it go right? left? up? down?) What I wouldn’t give for someone to tell me the correct break. Speed? I’ve go that down, but the other part keeps me awake at night.
4) Pick me up
–To whom do you turn when the wheels are spinning off? Your opponent? Doubt it. Your partner? Sometimes she/he wants you to fail, but most of the time, she/he is incapable of assessing the situation and reaching an appropriate resolution. Your caddie knows when you are stressing, when you are uncertain, and steps in with a few calming words. Halleluiah!
5) Yardage to club passage
–You get the yardage, you check the pin, you measure the wind, you hit the shot long or short, you bite your club shaft. This happens to me four times per round, where I over-think and pay the price. Tour Caddie won’t let that happen. It’s her/his job to remind me that I am 90 yards, and the farthest I can hit lob wedge is 85, so don’t think that it’s the club and I’m the man. Choke up an inch and hit the sand wedge, fool!
6) Administrative assistant
–Currently, it’s Cart Girl who determines feeding time at my zoo. Nothing against her, but my pro looper would pack some nourishing snacks, remind me when to graze, hand me a bottle of water (or 18, a la Thomas Bjorn), and wipe and burp me, if necessary.
–Seen the latest rage? It started on the LPGA tour, but it’s all over the men’s tours these days. Caddie stand behind player, makes sure body is aligned down one line, and clubface is aligned down parallel line, then moves away, signalling time to start the swing. How many times do you hit the correct shot, but lose it in a bunker or a swale, due to misalignment? No more, baby!
Seven is a lucky number. I could search for more, but maybe it will brink me some good kharma on Sunday when I attack Grand Niagara Resort, a new Rees Jones track across the ditch in Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada.
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