The Best Worst Week in Golf

Editor's note: Michael Collins has been a stand-up comedian for 15 years and has more than seven years experience as a professional caddie. He currently covers the PGA TOUR as a correspondent with XM Satellite Radio and takes his turn on The Turn Tuesdays on GOLF CHANNEL.
 
This is one of those weeks where we forget that golf is a game. This is one of those weeks where 160 golfers and 160 caddies have no fun while on the golf course. Even if you found yourself in the lead of this tournament by 30 strokes with one hole to play, standing on the 18th tee would not be a particular time of “joy.” It would feel more like relief. Last week we gave thanks; this week we give everything else. Welcome to the final stage of Q-school.
 
The final stage of Q-school is being played just outside Orlando this year. Every year it flips coasts, the past few years it’s flipped between Palm Springs and Orlando. I’ve been unfortunate enough to experience both coasts. I’m going to tell you about my “good” experience.
 
I start caddying for my friend halfway through the year. He’s struggling a bit, not having fun on the golf course, and for a grinder that is a BAD combination. But we start having fun and (shocker) making cuts, even get a top 10 in there. Sounds great, right? Not on TOUR anymore, nowadays if you make half a million dollars playing for a year you are not guaranteed a job next year. So we have a nice year by pay standards, but not nice enough to keep … the card.
 
My player tells me we’re exempt till final stage, and that he’s NEVER made it through from the west coast site where WE are going in a few weeks. Those who know me know that I am the optimist of all optimists. And having never been to Q, I boldly and brashly tell him, “well you’re making it through this year!” He looks at me like I was going to try and smoke the 30-foot tree I was leaning against. Final stage was almost a month away so I went to the Bahamas to relax … and promptly almost broke my ankle/leg jet skiing with my best friend Jose three days before practice rounds were to start.
 
Now for a caddy, being able to walk is, how should I say this … a job requirement?! Being a tough, hardheaded, knucklehead I had not gone to a doctor to examine my ankle/leg, but I had two good reasons. If I didn’t go to a doctor he/she couldn’t tell me it was broke and at the time caddies had no health insurance (we still don’t have a plan, but the TOUR does offer a stipend towards health insurance if you buy it yourself). My player insisted I get an x-ray, so off I went to the clinic. The doctor examined me, and before the x-ray tried to bet me the cost of the exam I had broken the little bone in my leg. I didn’t take the bet. But low and behold… no break, just a bone bruise.
 
SHOULDA TAKEN THE BET!!! Doc says if I wear an ankle brace, made for a pro football player, and can stand the pain, I can caddy. Well now I REALLY feel like going into battle. Even writing this I get those feelings again. Hang on, I gotta go spit and rub some dirt on myself.
 
Selfishly through all that’s going on with my leg I am not noticing how abnormally people around me are acting. My player has rented a house on the property the two golf courses are and I’m staying with him, his wife, and their little boy. I say I didn’t notice until the night before the first round, then at dinner his wife asks me if I’d carry the tour bag for the tournament.
 
My player was so nervous and superstitious he was having a tough time concentrating because the stand bag didn’t look right. But being the guy he is, he didn’t want me to be in any more pain so he was trying to keep my load light. Two things you’ve just learned; one, the difference in weight between a tour bag and a stand bag is about 15lbs with everything in it and over 6 miles it makes a huge difference to a guy doing his impression of a yak. And two, and more importantly, something as seemingly insignificant as THE BAG the clubs are in can throw off the top golfers in the world! Now this is my boss, but also my friend and as my friend, if he would’ve asked me to wear a thong on my head because it made him relax… shows me where the nearest Victoria’s Secret is.
 
I noticed something REALLY eerie when we got to the course for the first round. NO ONE was talking. I am serious when I say this, the hair on the back of my neck stood up when I set the bag down and went to wet the towel to clean the grips. Why, you ask? Because the driving range, even before a major, is a fun place. Yes there is tension but it is UNDER the surface. Not here. Caddies speak to each other about their players, a lot of them come up to me and tell me the latest joke they’ve heard or been emailed, but for the next 6 days each caddy and player were ghost teams not visible to other ghost teams. I thought to myself, “I have to find a way to make this normal for us.”