Inside the Ropes My Adventure as Caddy at the 2016 Australian Open

by Gary Farrell

Introduction

When June and I visited So. Cal in August, 2016, part of the trip was so that June could attend her daughter Alicia's baby shower. On the day of the shower, the guys played golf at a local course. I rode to and from the course with Alicia's husband Garrett, a professional golfer for the past 10 or so years (check out his PGA profile). On the way we talked mostly about golf, including his upcoming schedule. He mentioned that he was thinking about playing in the Australian Open in November. As June and I were driving home to Nor Cal, I started thinking how fun it would be to caddy for him at some point. So when we got back home, I wrote to Garrett asking him to keep it in mind. He wrote back:

I'm thinking if there's any interest you and June would want to go to the Sydney Aussie event?  We can all stay that week and if you'd like to caddy that event,  I'm all for it.  It would be tons of fun for her away from the course with plenty to do or hang at the course as well....

...I do appreciate your interest in my golf and always so awesome having family and friends rooting for me... so any support is always great.  

Let me know if that idea sparks any interest with you and June?

June was ecstatic and immediately starting planning our trip.

Preparing to Caddy

As soon as we booked our flight, I began to fret about what I would need to know as a caddy. Although I have played golf for almost 50 years, I have never caddied, much less ever been part of a professional golf event. At the very least, the caddy's job is to carry the bag, clean the clubs after each shot and the ball once it is on the putting surface, and rake the sand traps. But to learn the finer points of the profession, I thought I would try to learn from the experts at the nearby Mayacama golf course where players are required to have a caddy for every round. Caddys can make up to $150 per bag, per round. Hmmm, maybe if I am good at this, I may have found a new career.

I called the course and was told by the caddy master that, sorry, but they recruit and train new caddys in the spring. "Should I add your name to the list?", he asked.  

"No thanks", I quickly replied. He chuckled at my quick decision, then I explained that I wanted some quick insights into the profession for my upcoming event. Then he offered what the great Jack Nicklaus once said about the caddy: "There are just three important things to remember: Show up, Keep up, and Shut up."

I definitely plan to 'Show up'. And from a very early age, I have learned to 'Shut up', being raised one of ten kids in the golden age of  'kids should be seen and not heard'.

'Keep up' was the only one that worried me. I consider myself to be a pretty good hiker, having several long and notable mountain peaks in California to my credit. But I have never been accused of being a fast walker, and I would be 62 years old at the event.

I vowed that I was NOT about to collapse on the course and have Garrett left to carry his own bag, and possibly me, the remainder of his round. So with about a month before the event, I started a training regimen: hiking several miles almost every day through the hills of the local regional park with a 20-pound backpack full of old golf balls.  My own golf bag, which I like to carry when I play, weighs about 20 pounds. I actually considered carrying that through the hills, but being miles from any golf course, I pictured myself walking along a trail and stopping fellow hikers asking, "Excuse me, have you seen a Titleist 2?" I am sure I would have frightened the locals, some of whom may have recognized me, and wondered if I had lost my marbles as well.

Show Up

June and I were there in plenty of time, arriving at our apartment in Sydney on Sunday afternoon, flying in from a very eventful week of sightseeing in New Zealand. Garrett was due to arrive Monday from China where he played an event. In Xiamen, China, he was stopped as he was boarding the plane and told that his Australian work visa was invalid.

We didn't find out about it until Tuesday.  On her way back to Sydney from a wine tasting tour, June got a message from Alicia explaining the dire situation. June then texted me and asked me to go to the golf course to see what I could do there. Ha! What could I do that Garrett hasn't already done? But being the faithful caddy, I went for the first time to the very upscale Royal Sydney Golf Course (RSGC), about 2 miles away. At the course, I approached the first dressy fellow I saw, figuring he was someone in the know. The door behind him read, 'Player's Locker Room', so he must have been guarding the door from people like me. I briefly explained that I was looking for someone involved with running the tournament, and he pointed to a door 20 feet away. 

I walked in the doorway and found four or five people at desks; none of them looked up at me. So I waited in front of the first desk for the guy to look up, and look up he eventually did. I introduced myself and explained the situation.

He quickly replied, in his very Aussie accent, that he doesn't get involved in player's travel issues. "It is usually up to them to get here." I figured I would press a bit just so that I could tell June and Garrett that I really did try everything. So I laid it on thick:  "But, you see, my wife and I traveled all the way here from the states, and I am supposed to caddy for him, which is a life-long dream of mine, so if there is anything you can do, or suggest that I do, Garrett and I would really appreciate it."

"Okay", he said, "I will see what I can do". He wrote down the relevant information and said maybe he would make a phone call when he gets some time."

Sure, I thought, he is telling me what I want to hear just to get me out of his office. And it worked. I walked out the door while my cell phone was dinging texts at me. Since I had the equivalent of a local phone, June was shooting me Australian agencies in Sydney I should call. The Consulate, the Passport and Visa Agency, and several others. So I took a seat in the empty grandstand overlooking the 18th green. Today would have been Garrett's practice round.

For the next hour, while making phone calls, I watched a parade of threesomes hitting balls to a 2-tier elevated green from about 180 yards out. Most of the shots were amazing, with players routinely sticking the ball on the green like they were throwing darts at an over-sized dartboard. The golf was FAR more interesting than the phone calls. 

I googled phone numbers for government agencies, and then negotiated the most frustrating maze of automated answering systems I have ever witnessed. I thought that, if I persisted I may just crack the code and finally be granted an audience with a live person. And just before the call would be unexpectedly terminated, I was encouraged to visit: http:\\australia.govt.MAZE-FROM-HELL.com.au to get jerked around online for awhile.

Finally, after at least 30 minutes of frustration, I bumbled into a live person; a young lady from the Australian Passport Agency in Sydney, and I wasn't about to let her go without exhausting all of my options. After listening to my story for about 30 seconds, right after I said, "...he is in Xiamen China...,' she jumped in.

"Oh, since he is in China, there is NOTHING I can do for him from here. He will need to send an email to the Australian Embassy in Hong Kong, China. That is the ONLY way he will get resolution!"

Wow, she is good! With that very definitive statement, she he won the face off in record time. I made a feeble attempt to persist: "Surely there was something....she had to have some influence, right?"

Nope, she was done and so was I. It was over in less than a minute. I immediately texted her recommendation to Garrett. He had probably already emailed every agency in China. Right around this time, I was pretty sure this whole event would not happen for us.

Dejected, I walked back in the room to say goodbye to Brad, the only friendly face I saw all afternoon. I jokingly asked if he had made any calls. "Actually, I had my assistant call, and he got through to someone downtown, so now we'll have to wait and see."

Then I remembered Garrett saying that he would have to get me registered as his caddy when he gets there. To try to save some time, I asked Brad if I could be registered as Garrett's caddy without him being there. He reached into his top drawer and pulled out a small card with big, bold letters that read Caddy.

"Done", he said as he handed me the card.

I was so happy, I asked if I could take his picture. In the history of cameras, has anyone with a clear conscience EVER turned down that request? He popped up from his desk and, on the second try, struck the following pose!

Brad - Director of Golf at the 2016 Australian Open

Finally, on Wednesday afternoon, 5 hours before his last chance to board a flight that would get him to Sydney before his Thursday, 12:40 pm tee-time, Garrett got an email from the Australian consulate which read simply, 'Your Visa has been approved'. That's it? No explanation of what went wrong, why it took so long, or what caused the log jam to finally clear.

Garrett's flight was scheduled to land at about 10:30 am on Thursday. He would have to claim his bags, meet the driver we sent from the tournament, and drive an hour or so cross town to the course. Finally, after about 2 hours of waiting, at about 12:20 noon, I hear, "Hey Gary!" and he appears near the locker room.

June and I were exhausted from nervous tension as we reflect on the past several days. Such is the life of the professional golfer: Paying exorbitant rates for last minute flights, and waiting hours, even days, in airports for unexplained delays.

Royalty

While June and I waited for Garrett, we watched his colleagues strut around the locker room, club house, driving range, and practice greens as though they were royalty, having unfettered access to every door and roped-off area. The golfers are very easy to spot even without their entourage of coaches, caddy, and fans in tow.  They appear bigger than life!

In the locker room, the lockers were in alphabetical order. Here is Garrett Sapp and Adam Scott. Jordan Speith is just a few lockers away. I could always find a reason to flash my new Caddy card and visit the Player's locker room. This was the ONLY picture I took there since we all know that cameras are forbidden in locker rooms!

Almost all of the golfers wear unusually colorful shirts, light-weight, stretchy, golf pants (also colorful if they have that sort of disposition) and matching belt and shoes, usually white. The cost for any one of these items would be exorbitant for the recreational player, but professional golfers almost always have clothing sponsors. The only time any of us hackers would consider dressing like this would be maybe Halloween, being right in there with the baseball players in uniform.

Then there is the way in which the apparel fits: usually like a glove. Most of these guys are physically large, either tall or with bulging muscles, or both. Gone are the days of professional golfers the size of Ben Hogan, at 5' 8", 145 lbs.  Crowds at the golf course part when they see one of these specimens coming.  Kids, without knowing the player's name, will hold out a hat or a glove for a signature and, hopefully, 10 seconds in close proximity to the player.

The royal coach arrives to take us to the course on Friday morning.

While all professional golfers are considered royalty at a golf event, the most recognizable golf icons, the gods of the sport, command another level of attention. Not only do the crowds part, they seem to bow as one of these gods pass by. While standing near the clubhouse that Thursday afternoon waiting for Garrett, we happened to catch a glimpse of a couple of familiar players walking off the 18th green and into the scorer's room. After 5 minutes or so, the American golf icon, Jordan Speith, came out and walked right by us. He was being escorted to an interview area next to where we were waiting. I'm pretty sure I bowed my head as he passed. Fortunately, June had the presence of mind to snap a photo.

Jordan Speith just before a post-round interview. He is so well known, he doesn't even have to wear flashy colors.

On the Course

After stowing his baggage, I hoisted his bag to follow him to the driving range and almost suffered a hernia right there. I immediately realized that my golf bag is like a kid's starter set compared to a professional golfer's bag. I swear Garrett's bag had to weigh at least 35 pounds, with assorted drinks, snacks, a dozen or so balls, and god-only-knows how many changes of clothes. I didn't go rifling though his bag looking for items to jettison, but I sure thought about it. A LOT!

On the range, Garrett hit about 10 balls, didn't even look at the practice putting green, then headed to the 10th tee-box (which was our first hole), which was a 10-minute cart ride away. There is a 2-stroke penalty for not teeing off with your group, and immediate disqualification for not hitting your second shot with them. Fortunately, we got to the tee-box just in time for quick introductions, me to don the obligatory red bib, and for them to step up and hit their drives. Garrett ripped a beauty right down the center of the fairway. I guess its going to happen after all.

The group we played with for two rounds, from the left: Matt, Steve Dartnell, Garrett, me, Ashley Hall, Adam. Thanks to June for all of the pics on this page.

Keep Up

Probably the biggest issue with keeping up, the one that really surprised me, was that the three golfers in our group took 'pace-of-play' very seriously. They were all very patient and respectful when waiting for fellow players to hit or putt. But immediately after the third player made the shot, they all took off like it was a race, damned near running to the next shot or tee-box! Especially Garrett. And why not? He was anxious to size up his lie and determine his yardage for the next shot. Plus, and most important, he wasn't loaded down with a 40-pound bag! Fortunately for me, I don't think he ever stood at his ball waiting for me to arrive so that he could hit his next shot.

On his very first shot from the fairway, Garrett showed me exactly where he wanted me to stand with the bag: as we faced the green, I should stand roughly 10 feet directly to the right of the ball -  not even slightly behind the ball. As it turns out, every caddy and golfer I saw after that were positioned in exactly the same location.  I would have thought that the area behind his back would be the best place to completely keep me out of his view. But maybe its better to have the caddy perfectly still in plain view than have him sneaking around behind one's back.

Shut Up

It didn't think 'shut up' would be a problem for me. It is commonly known that a good caddy who is familiar with the course can save the golfer strokes. I have actually seen that myself in Mexico when my mandatory caddy just pointed to an unlikely spot on the green, I obediently hit the spot, and the ball magically rolled close to the hole. A good caddy can also offer advice about distances into prevailing winds, target lines, and so forth. However, this is true only if the caddy is familiar with the course. I was completely lost on this course, not even being able to find the next tee-box. But even caddys who are NOT familiar with the course can help their golfer read the breaks in the green.

On our first hole, Garrett had a 15-foot birdie putt. After we both surveyed the putt, I asked, "So what do you see?"

Being the good guy he is, he quickly replied, "What do YOU see?"

"I see about a 4-inch break to the left", to which he responded, "Yep, definitely breaks left".

He rolled what looked like a perfect putt. Not giving the slightest hint of a break left, it rolled a foot passed the cup. I felt awful and resolved, there and then, to keep my mouth shut. I have no business giving this guy advice about reading putts.

For the remainder of the tournament, as he surveyed his next shot from the fairways or the green, I would simply ask him, "so what do you see" or "what do you think" or that sort of thing. I thought it would allow him to say it out loud, which may help him to mentally commit to the shot. He always answered with something like, "120 yards, a little helping wind, plenty of room in front of the pin."

"Sounds good" I would inevitably add, "High and tight, buddy!" Its nice being able to contribute.

Here is a shot we consulted over. In the deep trench just off the green, he had a tight, downhill lie. Ten feet onto the green is a ridge which then falls sharply to the hole another 25 feet away, as the slope continues to fall off the front edge. He decided to putt, a very popular choice with the other two golfers in our group for getting through the wide fringe. He gave the ball a huge whack up the hill, and surprisingly it stopped at the top of the ridge, maybe a foot short of falling perfectly to the hole. Bogey!

The one place my slowness was apparent to everyone was heading to the next tee-box. Not having the benefit of a practice round, or Pro-Am round, I never seemed to know where the next tee-box was when walking up to the green. There were greens and tee-boxes everywhere. So I would often set the bag down on the wrong side of the green, a serious disadvantage for the race to the next tee-box. There was always a red-shirted volunteer who attended a roped 'gate' into the tee-box area. Their job was simply to let only the group of golfers and caddys into the very small tee-box area. The 'gate' was inevitably closed again by the time I got there. I would usually apologize for my tardiness when they reopened the gate to let me through. By the third or fourth tee-box, I gave up offering excuses.

In the roped-off tee-box, there was also a 'where-to-stand' protocol that is observed by everyone: directly to the right of the tee blocks. You are allowed to drift backwards if there is no room, and there was rarely room. I would almost laugh out loud, standing perfectly still while crowded into a tiny little roped-off corner along with two golfers, three caddys, and three huge bags. Does anyone standing outside of this roped area find this peculiar?

Don't Lose Stuff

Of course, the most embarrassing thing that a caddy could do on the course is to lose something, like a club, head cover, or towel. I am certainly not above losing my own stuff on the golf course. I have lost golf clubs, sunglasses, water bottles, even the same head cover on the same round. But losing something of Garrett's had never even crossed my mind until about half way though the first round. One of the volunteers following us up to a green, yelled out, "Does this belong to anyone?" I turned around to see him holding up a putter cover that was laying near a green-side bunker. My stomach turned as I realized I had just handed Garrett his putter. As it turns out, it was not ours, but Matt and Steve's. Whew!

Then I saw Matt stuff the cover into his bib pouch. In the front of the red bib, which all of the caddys wear, is a large shallow pouch. After that incident, every head cover I removed went immediately into the pouch. After Garrett handed me the ball to clean on the green, I thought I was being clever by wiping the ball clean and putting the ball in the pouch. As he walked around the green surveying his lie, I became consumed watching the others putt. Just before it was his turn, he walked up to me and held out his hand. I offered him the towel, the only thing in my hand. He didn't take it, so I said, "What?"

"Ball please". 

I frantically rifled through my pockets looking for the ball. Then I remembered my new favorite catchall: the kangaroo pouch. I think he chuckled while I died of embarrassment.

For the next few holes, I thought how practical the pouch could be, maybe a new fashion trend for people, like myself, who tend to lose things. Then, I thought, I already have something that is intended for just that reason: the European Carryall (a.k.a. the man purse, butt bag, or fanny pack).

The towel, I thought, would be the most likely item to go AWOL. I have just started to carry one when I play, as opposed to having it clipped to the bag, and I have already lost a couple of them. Fortunately, mine were cheap hand towels. Garrett's is a fancy $20 microfibre model with 8" elongated center slit for fitting over club head. I tried slipping it on once, which was pretty easy. Getting it off quickly was much more difficult, so I always carried it. And since it was fairly warm weather for our rounds, the towel would dry out. On the 1st hole (our 10th), Garrett demonstrated for me, probably out of frustration, just how easy it is to keep wet. He laid it on the ground, took a bottle of water and drenched one end. He picked it up and lightly wrung it out. The demo was over in less than 10 seconds.

OK then, the modified job description is as follows: Show up - keep up - shut up - clean everything - hand the ball back without being asked - don't lose anything - and keep the towel wet.

Never put the towel down or let go of the bag for fear of losing it.

Camaraderie

One thing I was pleasantly surprised to find is the camaraderie among the group of golfers and caddys who played together for the first two days. Garrett said we were very lucky to be paired with such easy-going guys. They all cheered for one another when making great shots. We all chatted casually about our backgrounds as we raced up and down fairways.

We sometimes joked on the tee-box when waiting for the green to clear. On one par 3, Jack Daniels offered a 'lifetime supply' of whiskey for a hole-in-one. Garrett, knowing I like whiskey, badly wanted to hole out. Then Ash corrected this misnomer by pointing out the barrel sitting in front of the big Jack Daniels sign, saying "That barrel is what they consider a lifetime supply? Ha! That's enough for a maybe a long weekend." Everyone laughed, and good fun ensued until the green cleared.

Note: As it turns out, ALL of the players were given a 1.75 ml bottle of Gentlemen Jack, which Garrett promptly handed to me! In Australia, the bottle would sell for about $80 USD. I know, because I thought about buying one.

More evidence of this camaraderie appeared whenever one of the player's balls went into a green-side bunker. The player would make the shot, then exit onto the green while his caddy would rake the trap. On the green, the other experienced caddy would offer to clean the ball which just came out of the trap. Very sportsmanlike! I offered once to clean Steven's ball, but he glanced at the ball and said it was fine as he hand-rubbed it clean. He probably saw me almost lose Garrett's ball in my pouch.

On the long, lonely hikes down the fairway, I enjoyed chatting with the red-shirted volunteers. Although all of the volunteers I talked with were affluent members at the RSGC, they seemed quite happy to talk with me, asking me where I was from in the states, how I knew Garrett, and other pleasantries. They were all very proud of their club and thankful for the opportunity to be inside the ropes, watching their impeccable course being played at such a high level. I remarked to one older gentleman carrying the score-keepers sign, wouldn't it be fun to step up to the 1st hole, a 320 yard par 4 and debate, "Should go for it or lay up?" He replies, "That is how I approach the par 3's now." We both shared a laugh, then got back to work.

Another of the volunteers who spent both days with us was a lady who kept a clipboard containing each player's statistics. It wasn't until midway through the 2nd round when I noticed that each par 4 and par 5 hole had 'meterage' marked off on one side of the fairway, similar to yardage on a football field, from about 230 to over 300 meters in 5 meter increments. This is to make it easy for the statistician to record the length of the player's drive. I suppose it was good that I didn't notice, because Garrett hit somewhere towards the middle of almost all of the fairways.

On Friday, as I was struggling to catch up to Garrett on hole 17, Ash and Adam overtook me. Ash said, "You know that there will be only two players (instead of three) in the pairings on the final two days. Play will be even faster! How are you going to keep up then?" We all assumed that Garrett would make the cut.

"Well," I replied, "I guess I will just have to start jogging".

Adam assured me that they were just kidding and that I was doing a fine job as they continued to breeze on passed me towards their ball.

At the end of the second round, Garrett presented me with a pass for the member's lounge, saying, "I'm not sure, but you should be able to get something to eat in there." Shortly after, I approached the same nicely-dressed official I had chatted with several times. I showed him the pass and asked for directions.

He said, "Yeah, I don't know if that pass works for caddys. And you're wearing shorts. Straight up the stairs behind you, and Good luck mite" (Aussie for 'mate'). On the course, I may be welcomed inside the ropes, but at the member's lounge, I was just one of the many unwashed loopers from the caddy shack at Bushwood Country Club!

How did Garrett Do?

When I see people who know what we were doing in Australia, the first question they usually ask is, "How did he play?" 

I was amazed at how well Garrett played, especially the first day, after arriving at the course just in time to hit a few balls and race to the 1st tee. Garrett said he didn't putt as well the second day. Missing the cut by just a couple of strokes, I would be tempted to look back on the missed 10 ft. putts. But all of the players conceded that the greens were VERY tough to hit. It was also tough to get 'up-and-down' from the wide and unruly fringes. In his first round interview, Jordan Speith talked about the severe penalty of missing the green. Another player commented that most greens have several levels, all of which are the size of a small bedroom.

Garrett was very good off the tee. I remembered only three missed fairways, two of those converted to birdies, the other to bogey. One of those shots was, I thought, the most amazing shot of his tournament. 

In the end, Garrett came up two strokes short of the cut, which was at even par. He would not be playing the final two days of the tournament. That night, we took a bus ride to Coogee Beach for a fabulous Thai dinner. We drank and reminisced about our epic adventure. Then we got back on the bus and got lost, eventually getting off and changing buses in a very 'lively' downtown area of Sydney at midnight where Garrett was propositioned from passing taxis at least once. Good times!

Although I was absolutely sore and exhausted, I would have loved to continue for two more days, and would absolutely welcome another opportunity to do it again.

Final Day

On Sunday morning, Garrett headed for the airport to back to qualify at an event in China. He got into a tussle with a couple of clerks at the check-in counter over his 4 overweight bags. They wanted to charge him an additional $400. He spent so much time arguing with them that he missed the flight. He decided to fly home instead.

June and I had complimentary tickets to the Aussie Open, so we went back to the course and followed Steven Dartnell and Matt for a couple holes, then waited for Ashley Hall and Adam who was in contention. We walked with Ash's good friends and former caddy from Scotland whom June had befriended on the previous days. We cheered him on as he methodically dissected the course, finishing with a long birdie on hole 18 to go 12 under par, winning him a place in a sudden-death playoff with Cameron Smith and Jordan Speith. It lasted only one hole as Jordan birdied 18, again. Speith's repeat victory in Sydney dominated the news that evening.  Ashley Hall and Cameron Smith were barely mentioned.

On the first and only playoff hole, Ashley Hall watches Speith roll in a 20-footer for birdie. Hall would miss his 15-footer.

Before we packed up to leave for Cairns on Monday morning, I gathered the gifts bestowed upon me by Garrett, and snapped this pic.

Bottle of Jack: $80 3 dozen Pro V1X golf balls: $150 2 Titleist hats: $50 5 'Any day' tickets: $100 Great Adventure as Caddy: PRICELESS  Many Thanks Garrett!

Learn more about the tournament at: http://www.ausopengolf.com/