Caddying at HGCC — My First Job
Father’s Day is just around the corner and the Canadian Open (golf) is being played in the town I grew up in. So I thought I would blog about how my Dad made me get my first job and started a lifetime infatuation with the game of golf.
I grew up in a suburb of Hamilton, Ontario, Canada in a town called Ancaster. It’s now a wealthy suburb sporting 10,000 square foot houses, but when I grew up it was just a suburb of Hamilton. Middle-class families lived there and the Dads commuted to jobs in the Hamilton steel mills and other industrial manufacturing companies. The only ritzy part of Ancaster was the private golf club — The HGCC — The Hamilton Golf and Country Club. It was the 70’s. It was an exclusive club. WASPs only. Old money and professionals like doctors and lawyers. No Jewish members. They had their own club — Beverly Golf and Country. Women could be members, but certain tee times and parts of the clubhouse were men only. And the golf course was great. A Harry Colt design that was so good that it had hosted several Canadian Opens and Canadian Amateurs Tournaments. By the 1970s when most courses had moved away from caddies and on to golf carts, HGCC was old school. It had caddies. Carts were frowned on.
When I was around 10, my Dad said it was time to get a job. And since they don’t let 10-year-olds pump gas, the main job for pre-teens and teens was caddying at the HGCC. Now, my Dad had been a decent golfer before kids and I had been on the course with him a handful of times. But, I had no idea how to caddy. So my dad took me out to Knollwood golf course to show me how it is done. Knollwood was the public golf course with a barn as the clubhouse. It was a starter course, maybe a par 62 with long par threes masquerading as par 4s. But I remember the caddying lesson from my Dad like it was yesterday
First of all, you carry the bag. No pull carts, those are for sissies. Key to carrying the big heavy leather bags back then — strap length. Adjust the strap so that you can swing the bag over your hip and distribute weight off your shoulder. A good caddy has his own towel- hangs off your belt. The towel is used to clean the ball and club after each shot. The bag is to be set down beside ball about 4 feet to the right of the ball. The bag is to be tilted in toward golfer so that he can select club. Once the club is selected, you pick the bag up and move about 10 feet away. Directly beside golfer. Stand dead still while your golfer hits shot. And on it went. Know your yardages. Measure the wind. Proper greenside bag placement. Pin tending. Green etiquette. Divot replacement. Proper trap racking. Ball tracking and Forecaddying.
If you were going to do a job in our family, you better damn well do it right. So with a single thorough lesson, I was sent off to get my first job as a caddy. Pat Radigan was the caddy master. My dad had been his hockey coach, so Pat let me start, even if I was a little young and small. And with that, the adventure began. If you grew up in Ancaster in ’70s, you will remember some of the quirks of the job.
The (Lack of a) Caddyshack
HGCC did not have an actual shack for caddies. We had a set of benches with a covered overhang. It was on the wall of the pro shop. Caddies were not allowed to leave the caddy area. You parked your bike in the bike rack and walked directly to the caddy area. No wandering around to pro shop, first tee or driving range until you were assigned a bag/golfer. The Caddy area had a green desk at the front. On that desk was the signup sheet with the list of caddies in the order they had arrived for work. The caddies had grades: B, A, AA. You had to have a certain amount of rounds to be promoted to A and you had to be big enough to carry two bags to be a AA. The golfer would then come to the desk and request a certain grade caddy and the caddy master would assign the next caddy on the list. The caddy area had a Coke machine, but no other place to buy food. If you were hungry while you waited to get “out” on the golf course, then you went off the property to a crappy little dinner called the “The Rite Spot”. Caddies ordered toast there in the morning and coffee which we filled with about 10 sugars.
The SignUp sheet
This was very important. The signup sheet determined the order in which the work was assigned. You wanted to get out early in the morning before it got too hot. Also, many caddies would want to get “out” twice, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. That was only possible if your name was high on the list.
When I started caddying, you could come to the golf course at any time to sign up. So if you wanted a bag at 7:30 am, you often came to the golf course at 5 am. For me, that meant getting up about 4:30 and riding my bike 2 miles to the course.
In my second year of caddying, they changed the rules. No caddy could come on the property until 6 am. This was a sensible rule, but like most rules in had its unintended consequences. And that consequence was “The Race”. Most caddies showed up at 5:55 am at the edge of the property on the corner of Golf Links road and Halston. There would always be a couple of cars there and a boatload of kids on bikes. One of the cars (owned by a family called the Nutleys) was the official starter. They would turn the car radio on loud and when the local radio (CKOC) station played the sound effect that signaled the top of the hour, then that was the starting gun. When the sound effect was played, the cars gunned it and every bike took off as fast as they could. The race was probably about 400 yards up the driveway through the parking lot to the caddy area. It was quite a spectacle. If you were in the car, the caddies would roll out of the car before a full stop trying to beat the other guys from the cars. Sometimes they could land on their feet while other times they just went for the stunt man roll and up to a run. I was never in the car. I was trailing the cars in a pack of bikes. We had a full view of the battle for the top spots and were secretly cheering for wipeouts as the caddies lept from the cars. The bikes came crashing in behind them. The best technique, if you had a shitty bike like mine, was to swing your leg over the bar and leap off into a run and let your bike crash. I wasn’t the fastest rider, but I could often make up a few slots over guys who stopped and carefully placed their bikes on the ground.
I will never forget those caddy races. They were great. I wish I had video of it. They were epic. After about a year and a few injuries, the club put a stop to it and the signup sheet order was determined by a socialist lottery.
Forecaddying and the Foot Wedge
If you have not caddied or used a caddy, you might not be familiar with forecaddying. It is done on tight driving holes and on holes where the landing spot cannot be easily seen from the tee box. A caddy leaves the driver on the tee block for his golfer,(The grip is balanced on the tee marker, so the grip does not get wet from the morning dew.) The caddy then goes ahead of the golfer to the treeline of the landing spot and makes sure that he can find all balls that are hit. HGCC is a pretty good track and the general membership at the club had quite a tough time with many of the tight driving holes. So you earned your money.
My dad had taught me about forecaddying, but the more experienced caddies taught be about the foot wedge. The foot wedge was used to help your golfer. If the ball was hit into the woods, then the experienced caddy would “reposition the ball with their foot” to a lie and location were the golfer would have a better shot out of the woods. I was a bit shocked at this practice at first but soon learned that golfers who shot good rounds were more prone to giving you a good rating and a potential tip (at a non-tipping club). So I joined the forces of caddies using the foot wedge for the joint benefit of all.
The caddy foot wedge is widely known but never spoken about. (No one is incented to spill the beans.) It has also become more famous of late as rumor has it that Trump employs foot wedging forecaddies on most holes. :-)
The Caddy Special
The pay was not particularly good to caddy, and there was an official policy of no tipping, although some did. But an established part of the deal was that each caddy got a “Caddy Special “at the halfway house after nine holes. HGCC had one of those hard-wired phones on the 9th tee to order your food and drinks at the turn. Players would order what they wanted and each caddy in the group was ordered a caddy special — a hot dog and a Coke. And these were good hot dogs — high quality meat cooked on a rotisserie grill. Buns were warmed. Very tasty. If you had a generous golfer he would ask if you wanted a chocolate bar (candy bar for my American friends). The “go to” chocolate bar of all caddies was the Mars bar (Canadian Snickers) and most caddies ordered them frozen. Then we would carry them in our pocket and eat them when we were forecaddying on the 12th or 14th hole. If you did not go frozen, you would have a melted mess on your hands.
The Caddy tournament and the Caddy Banquet.
The Caddy was not high up in the pecking order at HGCC. Members were of course at the top of the order, and member ranking was determined by wealth first and playing ability second. Employees in the golf course — starters, pro shop, and back shop staff were next, then clubhouse staff. They were all official HGCC employees, they could go in the clubhouse or pro shop. They could use the washrooms. They got paychecks from the club. Caddies were contractors, the equivalent of 1099 employees, a contingent labor force. Members signed a Caddy card and you then took the “chit” to the caddy master to get cash. Our place within the pecking order was well known. But we were happy to make the money and get access to one of the finest clubs in the country.
There was twice during the year that Caddies stepped out of the role — the caddy tournament and the caddy banquet. Caddies were allowed to play the back nine once per year and a champion was crowned. I remember we teed off when it was still damn near dark and the greens had not been cut. It was nowhere near as celebrated as he caddy tournament in the movie Caddyshack, but we were still seriously jacked to play. One of the greatest disappointments in my golf life was topping my driver off the tenth tee into the creek. Could not handle the pressure at 11 years old.
The more celebrated event forecaddies were the Caddy banquet at the end of the golf season. Caddies were invited INTO the clubhouse and were allowed to eat in the dining room!!!! Speeches from the club members and the caddy master were given. Awards were presented and money was handed out! There was no tipping at the course, but a pool of cash was accumulated over the year to pay as a year-end bonus. The money was then distributed based on the number of rounds and rating. They called your name and you came to the podium and they gave you an envelope of money. I think I got $100 in cash my first year. That was a lot. But the best part of the caddy banquet was being admitted into the clubhouse, sitting at the dining room table and being served like members. Once a year, we weren’t caddies, we were part of something bigger and we could dream of the day when somehow we might be guest or members at HGCC.
As the years went by, the world and the golf club changed. The club became much less exclusive and even went through some financial difficulties. And the little town I grew up in became a wealthy suburb. When I grew up, few families in Ancaster could afford nor would they be admitted to club membership. Now, I think the entire town could become members. I have played there a few times and several kids I grew up with became members. And now they rent the club out for business events and weddings. This would never be allowed in the 70s!! My brother's wedding reception was there and my buddy Jim and I brought a few clubs and balls and smashed drivers off the tenth tee. It’s probably good that the club is more accessible, but I would be lying if I don’t miss the aristocratic exclusive nature of the club of my childhood. I bet they don’t have caddies anymore and even if they did, I can’t imagine Ancaster residents letting their ten-year-olds get on their bike at 5 am to ride to Country club.
The world moves forward. Almost always for the better. But today I look back fondly on my Dad teaching me to caddy and giving me the “best first job” that a kid could have.
