The seasons don’t change much in St. Andrews. Blessed with a
temperate climate and cursed with a bleak landscape, the Auld Grey Toon sees
little in the way of fall foliage, winter blizzards, spring showers or summer
scorch. Indeed, the view from our bay window, over the ancient links to the
North Sea, although splendid, is pretty much the same every day.
Thus, at this time of year, when many of you are welcoming the
first robin or daffodil or crocus, I remain seasonally insensate. There is,
however, one undeniable rite of spring: the reappearance of the Old Course
caddies. With precisely the same timing as the swallows of Capistrano, they
return at this time each year.
In winter, you see, the vast majority of golf in St. Andrews is
played by locals who, being equal parts hearty and thrifty, have no use for
caddies. Indeed, a fair percentage of them are caddies. However, once March
flows into April and the tourist season begins, the loopers resurface.
For a brief, unguarded moment—just prior to moving here—I had
visions of becoming a caddie. After all, what better office could there be than
the Old Course? Not only is it the world’s most eternally beguiling links, it’s
dead flat and therefore easy to walk, even for someone who’s had a double hip
replacement. Since I’m a morning person, the specter of checking in at the
caddie pen at dawn was far from daunting. Indeed, I rather liked the notion of
being able to knock off work by noon.
The money was attractive—about $100 for a single bag (assuming a
reasonable tip). And best of all, it seemed to require little in the way of
preparation or training. Cultivate a three-day stubble, soak the morning bran
flakes in gin, learn to roll my own cigarettes, and I’d have the job—or at least
the role—mastered.
Or so I thought. My, was I wrong. The auld grey caddies, they
ain’t what they used to be.
For the past three decades, golf in St. Andrews has been managed
by the Links Trust, a non-profit body created through an Act of Parliament. They
maintain the town’s six (soon to be seven) golf courses, control the starting
times, and oversee all the employees, from greenkeepers to starters to caddies.
And they run a tight ship. As a consequence, it is folly for
anyone—even Steve Williams or Fannie Sunesson—to breeze into town, stumble over
to the caddie shack and expect to get a loop. The 21st-century St. Andrews
caddie is a fully licensed practitioner of the bag-carrying profession, vetted
by 30 hours of training and 120 hours of supervised internship. He or she has
also passed a written exam, a sort of caddie SAT developed by Links Trust caddie
manager Rick Mackenzie, consisting of 74 questions on golf history, the Old
Course, rules and etiquette, golf terminology, and the duties and
responsibilities of a caddie.
I was able to get my hands on a copy of that test. I figured it
would be fun to fill it out and see how much I knew. Granted, I had neither
taken the training course nor had I caddied since I was 16 years old. But hell,
I’d been a golf writer for 30 years—that had to be worth something. I’d also
lived alongside the Old Course for three years, and that had to be worth even
more.
The cover page of the test said it must be completed within two
hours and the passing grade was 80 percent. The Rules of Golf book could be used
as a reference as needed but the test taker was advised to page through the
entire test carefully before answering any questions.
That page-through persuaded me that taking the test wasn’t such a
good idea—the resulting sense of inadequacy would be far too much for me to
bear. None of the 74 questions was multiple choice or true/false, most called
for answers of more than one word, and a few required mini-essays. One question
was not aquestion at all but a command: “Draw in detail the 4th, 7th and 16th
holes of the Old Course, showing all relevant lines of play from the tee,
including carries, run-outs, bunker locations and green details.”
This was a test of not simply knowledge but perception, organized
thought and communication skill, not to mention schematic draftsmanship. Had
such a qualifying exam existed for journalists 30 years ago, I’m fairly sure I
would have become a dog trainer.
Herewith a few sample questions from the test. See if you can do
any better than I did.
1. Where does the term “caddie” come from?
My best recollection was that it had something to do with the
French term ‘cadet’ but I had no idea whether the cadet was a schoolboy, a toy
soldier or a breed of terrier.
2. When was the first mention of the St. Andrews caddie?
No clue on that—couldn’t even narrow it to a century.
3. Who played the most significant role in shaping the Old Course
as we know it?
I was torn between Old Tom Morris and Allan Robertson, but the
answer they were looking for may well have been God.
4. Which green on the Old Course is the largest?
This I knew to be the double green shared by holes 5 and 13. In
fact, at 37,900 square feet, it’s large enough to hold the first 10 greens at
Pebble Beach—but I don’t suppose that little tidbit would have earned me any
extra credit.
5. How many red flags are there on the Old Course?
This is a trick question, the correct answer being eight. All of
the front-nine flags are white as is the flag at the home hole, allegedly
because a red flag at 18 would be difficult to distinguish against the sandstone
faade of Hamilton Hall (now the St. Andrews Grand).
6. How many times has the Open Championship been played over the
Old Course?
The number 28 rang a bell, but I was off by one—it’s 27.
7. What are the most important Rules for caddies?
All I could think of was the classic “show up, keep up, shut up.”
8. Name five things the caddie should have with him on the golf
course.
My answer would have been a wet towel and four boxes of breath
mints.
9. The caddie positions himself on or close to the extension of
the line of putt behind the ball when the player is holing out. Has a Rule been
violated, and if so, which one?
Unearthing that answer would have entailed a lengthy wrestle with
the Rules book, and the test included five more questions just like it.
It’s no wonder that, of the 180 or so currently licensed St.
Andrews caddies, an estimated 50 percent-plus are college graduates. These days,
when you walk to the 1st tee of the Old Course, the fellow who shakes your hand
and hoists your bag could be a retired accountant, a professor on sabbatical, a
former bank manager or a Princeton senior majoring in philosophy. But no matter
what his background may be, you can be sure of one thing—when it comes to the
art and science of caddieing, he’s far better educated than you are.
If you’re interested in becoming a caddie at St. Andrews, visit
caddieconnect.com or contact Janet Finlay of the St. Andrews Links Trust at
011-44-1334-466-666 or at j.finlay@standrews.org.uk.
