Changing Your Grip

Lately I’ve been reading blogs that impress me, and I’m becoming a fan.

One blog is by Tour caddy Mark Huber.

Mark writes at length about his experiences on Tour, and he’s honest. He gives the kind of details and stories people love – the kind of “I was there and I know what happened” view you don’t get from sports blogs unless you lived it. He’s authentic and I like that. I guess most of the caddies I knew were authentic in some way. If you were a phony, you were exposed and if you got on a high horse, you were dismounted without mercy.

Caddies are the Dickens characters of the PGA Tour

Mark started caddying maybe a few years after TJ & I left the Tour, but he reminds me of some of the caddies I came to know. Some I liked, one I really loved (he was the assistant pro at Oak Hill and took a year off to caddy for TJ. We all loved him — Tom Cavicchi) and a couple were real nightmares. I was always fascinated by the caddies, though. They were a subculture unto themselves. I suppose I saw them as characters in the backstory that is the Tour.

I was a little in awe of the caddies when we first started out on the Tour. I know– if you’re at all familiar with the early times that Mark describes, you’d probably wonder why.

Being the wife of a “rabbit” — a Tour rookie who had to qualify on Mondays if he didn’t make the cut the week before — I was on the low rung of the Tour heirarchy.  Caddies weren’t even on that radar. Oh, I don’t mean my radar. I was very aware of the fact, as Mark describes, that caddies were not allowed in the same areas as the public, not allowed in or near the clubhouses, and could only walk around the outside tournament areas if they were accompanying their player.

Many times I walked by the area where the caddies waited for a bag if they had one that week, or where they watched for players who might need a caddy. Some of them had the relative security of being a regular for one of the more established players. Some had a regular gig, but their player wasn’t out that week.

Others tried to pick up anyone they could. Like jockeys, they appeared to follow the players who had a good tournament  and made the cut the previous week. If a player seemed like he was hot, of course he’d be desirable. Some gambled on rookies like TJ. You never knew when a bag would bring a good paycheck.

I thought sometimes — especially if the caddy area was roped off and had signs warning them to stay in it– that they looked like they were in a corral. Some were older, wizened and hardened, sitting smoking cigarettes. There were men with missing teeth, or eyes red-rimmed from a night’s drinking the evening before. Some seemed a little desperate, calling out to players with a kind of wheedling, cajoling patter as if they were in a carnival. Mixed in were young guys, new to the Tour, on some sort of life adventure.

Once a deal was made and a caddy chosen, the caddy was all business. He’d hoist the big tour bag onto his shoulder and nod at me to proceed ahead, as I followed TJ to the practice area. It was always a gentlemanly gesture, and suddenly — we were a team. A procession.

The role of the caddy — a matter of perspective

But I always sensed that divide: we were not equal. We were each in a defined role. On the course, the caddy was now a part of TJ. He went where TJ went; they were connected. He wore TJ’s colors into battle. Crowds parted for him as he hefted that heavy bag from one green to the next tee, and I used him as a pathway, trotting behind as close as I could. Then he would enter the inner sanctum with TJ– where I couldn’t go: inside the ropes.

I once wrote in Jacksonville Today magazine for a TPC issue:

He’s a valet, a squire, a pack horse. He’s a jockey to a fine thoroughbred. He plays counselor, confidante, psychologist. He’s a one-man cheering section. He is sometimes expected to be a mind-reader. Sometimes he’s a whipping boy. He’s a gambler.  A businessman. He’s the supporting actor with a stage name – “Golfball,”  “Black Rabbit,” “Mama Jack,” “Gypsy,” “Big Lee,” “Zito,” or “Six-Iron Jack.”

Above all, he’s man worthy of attention. When he’s really good at his job, his worth to a player can be inestimable.

There are legendary caddies. Do you know any? If you do, I’d love to hear about them.

Next time: Caddies who became legends to me — for better or worse.

Halfway through a recent hour-long phone conversation with Phil Bundy, a realization came to me:

Phil Bundy would be the perfect representative for Twitter on the PGA Tour. And Twitter should be his sponsor.

I can see Twitter’s little blue bird logo on Phil’s golf shirt and visor. It would fit so perfectly. Phil fits Twitter. It’s a perfect match for the new Tour.

Before you dismiss this idea, let me make my case:

Phil joined Twitter on November 15, 2008. His blog about his quest to play the PGA Tour is part of a whole utilization of social media — something few players are making a part of their brand. Guys like Pat Perez have cool websites, but Perez doesn’t necessarily write his blog each time. This is understandable: You don’t make hundreds of thousands — or millions — of dollars being on a computer, you make it on the golf course.

Phil chose to engage people in his quest through many avenues — and one of them has been through social media.

In the process, he’s been “overwhelmed” by the response. “It resonates with a lot of people,” he says. “By talking about my quest and the reasons why I’ve chosen to pursue my dream [at 43 -- more about that in a minute], it’s motivating other people to pursue their dreams, too.”

“A year ago, the opportunity to build an audience like this wasn’t there. Not that many people were on things like Twitter,” Phil says.

He utilizes a personal philosophy with Twitter that consists of three main tenets:

1. It’s better to be interested than interesting. When you talk to Phil, you feel a very genuine interest in who you are as a person. It’s not about what you can do for him. Judging by his blog roll– and the number of blog articles, on line interviews and podcasts that appear on his blog site– he’s making a lot of friends. I’m now one of them. That comes from being truly interested in others.
2. Conduct yourself on Twitter as you do in person. Be real. Be authentic. If you read Phil’s posts, his character comes across as an intelligent, mature, decent guy who is firmly grounded in reality — after all, he knows very well what he’s up against trying to qualify to play the Tour at 43 against 20-something thoroughbreds who are often right out of college. The guy you tweet on Twitter is the same guy talking to you on the phone, or meeting you in person, or representing you at tournaments and corporate functions.
3. Use your mind and creativity. I’ve only been on Twitter since January, but it’s become a part of my working day. It’s a living ocean of creative, fascinating people. It brings new ideas to me every day. It’s opened up the world. Phil Bundy knows this too — there may be sponsors out there who will become convinced that he is the kind of player that can bring them exposure and profit. After all, he’s an MBA who’s worked in the golf industry for twenty years. And he’s also got the playing chops as a competitor. A lot of people talk about digital PR — he’s living it and working it now.

But aside from the whole social media aspect — and I think that’s a major innovation in his branding that Twitter should consider — there’s the quality of person that he is.

Whatever you can do, or think you can, do it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

— Goethe

The inspiration for Phil’s “quest” (and I like that he terms it that way. Very Man of LaMancha ) is his little son, Charlie. How can you tell a child he can dream and become anything if you yourself have not experienced having a dream and pursuing it?

Some may feel that being 43 and trying to compete on a national level may be futile: It’s just too late.

Some may ask, why give up a successful career in sports marketing for such risk of failure and no guaranteed paycheck?

Some may scoff at someone who chooses to launch into a sport that is suffering. Sponsors are pulling out. The whole Tour centers on Tiger Woods.

• I think Phil Bundy has more substance than a lot of young players. He’s seasoned. He’s mature. He’s already had more experiences to learn from, to draw from, to gain balance. He’s tested himself in competition. He’s calculated his odds.

• He’s a person who believes in giving back. He’s demonstrated that in his work with junior golfers, and in the work he’s doing for his corporate partners.

The Tour life is unlikely to derail this man. He’s got his head on straight. He’s a thinking golfer — but one who knows not to let too much thinking paralyze his flow on the course. He uses words like “reflection” “perspective” and “feedback” in the tools he’s got in his game.

He’s a player that would be awesome in the press tent — eloquent, approachable and a hell of a story.

Most of all, maybe the magic and power in his quest is in inspiring his son — and thousands of others — to be bold and take a step toward whatever dream they have.

After all, Twitter creators — isn’t that what you did in the first place?

What do you think? Should Twitter become a sponsor for Phil on the PGA Tour?

Welcome to the new corporate hospitality tent at your next PGA Tour event.

Well, maybe that image is a bit premature. But today brought two very big pieces of news on golf — Tour golf, that is. And one of the pieces could lead to some drastic changes on the tournament event landscape.

The other piece of news is being treated like the Second Coming, the savior of golf as we know it.

If you judge by what’s been lighting up Twitter today, the Big News is:

• Tiger is back! Golf is saved.

Tiger (yes, he’s a one-word name now, like “Jack” and “Arnie” and “Batman”) has returned to the Tour to play, after 8 months off recuperating from ACL knee surgery. Oh – and he and his wife Elin had another baby, a son named Charlie. Tiger has a beautiful little family. He got to spend time with his daughter, Sam. These are the stories — the major events of his life — that fell aside once he committed to playing this week in the Accenture Match Play Championship.

But:

Congress blasts banks for their sponsorship activities with the PGA Tour. Banks feel the heat in view of the bailout money they’ve received.

Or as one blog put it: Golf Is Screwed.

Oh my. Ouch.

These two items and their subsequent media storm in the golf world — and beyond — stirred a flurry of Tweets and posts on news sites… and some unusually strong reaction in me.

After all, the Tour no longer pays my bills. My life there ended a long time ago. But as I said in my inaugural post — once a Tour Wife, always a Tour Wife.

Headline: Wells Fargo Cutting Costs at Golf Event Amid Political Pressure

Morgan Stanley pulls participation. Northern Trust takes a tongue-lashing by Congress. Sponsorships of Tour events are falling off all over the place.

Words like ”wasteful” and “frivilous” are being used by politicians regarding the perks and feebies banks and corporations typically use for their clients at Tour events. The implication is: Golf itself is frivilous and wasteful – We’re in a boatload of trouble here, people! Ditch the fun!

First of all — it says a lot that golf tournaments are even a subject in politics. Golf has always been very popular with politicians. I’ll be willing to bet that many of them have received those very perks and pleasures of tournament golf.

But this isn’t a political rant. I know it isn’t as simple as that.

I just want to point out that the sponsors of Tour events help to contribute to the economy of the locales where the they are held. And the PGA Tour and their sponsors have always been great contributors to charities

.

I’ve been on the courses and in the corporate tents. Business takes place there. Relationships are developed.  

This is just a show of support for the PGA Tour, and the sponsors. Because if you didn’t have those sponsors, there would be no Tour. And if there wasn’t a Tour, you wouldn’t have statements like these:

“I can start watching golf again. Tiger’s back.”   “I don’t care about golf unless Tiger’s playing.”   “Golf sucks without Tiger.” 

And so on.

I realize that Tiger has brought golf to a whole new generation of fans and inspired new players. The sport (which I don’t play, I repeat — but which has had a powerful impact in my life) needs a blazing star like him.

But I can’t help feeling a bit put off by fans who discount everything and everyone in golf except for Tiger.

If you ONLY care about golf if Tiger is playing, and think it sucks otherwise — you are a fan of a celebrity. Not a golf fan. 

It strikes me as disrespectful and rude to discount all the other players on Tour. To say they’re not worth following. That golf doesn’t exist unless Tiger is in it.

So — a shout out to all the players. I know how hard it is to do what you do. I know the talent it takes. The work. The focus and drive. The patience you must have with jerk “fans” who know little about the game and are all about the fame.

And a shout out to the Tour and its sponsors, for providing a place for the top 1% of guys who have the goods to play at that level.

What do you think? Would the Tour exist without Tiger? Is golf screwed? Will  it survive?