Caddie Hack

I get that some people consider viewing golf on television akin to watching paint dry (the ones who have no idea how ridiculously great these athletes are) but there are a couple of notable variables that are distinctly unique to this sport and worth bringing up.  For one, unlike other competitive games where the player is forced to rely on their reflexes as the ball is being tossed, kicked, batted, passed and head-butted all over the stadium, arena, court or field, this sport has a ball that just sits there, menacingly, sadistically even, waiting for however long it takes for the person to address it.  The whole process: deciding on which club to use, assessing the wind and altitude effects on the shot, taking a stance while making sure your grip is spot-on before the countless waggles and deep breaths leading up to finally pulling the trigger can take seemingly forever.  And during that whole span?... yeah, there are crowds of spectators literally just feet away, cell phones out, videotaping the whole thing as millions sit in front of their big screen TVs at home, watching with bated breath.  Tons more pressure than a bounce pass or an end run.  Or, dare I say, being intentionally walked.

There's something else, another peculiar aspect to this game that sets it apart from the others.  There's this... assistant.  Kind of a sidekick.  A man Friday, if you will, who walks shoulder to shoulder the entire course with each golfer.  A person who's part bag toter, part meteorologist, part green reader and downright expert at talking one off the ledge when things get upside down.  In sports this is unprecedented.  It'd be like the QB having someone at his side eyeing the coverage and telling him who's open, a roving soccer aide instructing a forward to initiate a scissor kick into the open right quadrant of the goal or a baseball lackey crouching with the opposing catcher, telling the batter when to lay off a slider that's low and away.  Crazy, right, we're talkin' a sport that started in the 15th century where a caddie's job description was simply to "carry clubs, perform course maintenance (i.e., rake sand traps and replace divots) and finds lost golf balls".  And now, six hundred years later, they're sharing star billing?  

Even more off-putting is their relationship.  Lately, TV golf coverage has made listening in on the duo's conversations a top priority, yanking the lid off the caddie-player dynamic and, more often than not, spotlighting just who's wearing the big-boy pants in the family and--spoiler alert!--it's usually not the player.  Caddies'll use negative body language, bring up past similar shots that went awry or even hold back on giving the player their club of choice until, more often than not, the golfer acquiesces, taking the prescribed iron, aiming where he's told and nodding when his bagman tells him to "remember to keep your focus".  So, yeah, they're a team, only the caddie seems, oftentimes, to be in charge and the golfer appears more than happy to play the role of the subordinate which begs the question, "How did this happen?"  Were there lobbyists involved?  Do the caddies have incriminating photographs of the players?  Is golf coverage really another example of fake reality TV, where the characters spout rehearsed dialog designed to ratchet up the drama? 

And finally, the coup de grace, when it comes to this freakishly enigmatic relationship: the caddie's salary.  Nothing's set in stone but it's not unusual for them to take home 10% of their players' winnings.  Granted, there's usually a cut (half the golfers go home after two days with no money) with those caddies getting a nominal stipend for their time but what about the ones looping for the big boys, the ones week in and week out having their names in the top ten.  How might they do financially?... You may have heard of Scottie Scheffler, the current number-one player in golf.  Last year, playing in only 19 events, he pulled down $62+ million which means, if he paid his caddie a tenth, that man garnered $6.2 million for less than a half year's work and he never even had to execute a shot!  So, yeah, I want one of those jobs.  I can carry clubs; I can act the drill sergeant, I can rake a trap and, when necessary, I can play the role of a shrink so where do I sign?

Okay, I get it, so that's never gonna happen.  But how 'bout this: If golf can allow this second-banana spot to become commonplace, why can't we make it a life hack and incorporate the caddie concept into other everyday situations?  A seasoned melon-thumper to assure someone gets the perfect piece of fruit.  Or, riding shotgun, a vehicle-buying assistant to aid in putting those unctuous car salesmen in their place.  Need that loan at the bank?... meet my "in-your-face" bargaining caddie.  Or how 'bout a professional plus-one to take over the laborious chore of socializing with really boring people at social functions?  Granted, the salary for these positions won't be commensurate with professional golf caddies but watching a car dealer receive a tongue-lashing or your local produce manager cower in shame over his substandard honeydews.... kinda priceless, right?