Changing Your Grip

Welcome to my Caddy Hall of Fame. And the Hall of Infamy.

Once TJ got beyond rookie year and was a tournament winner, he became a more desirable player to the caddies who didn’t have a regular bag. And he had his own picks — guys he’d prefer carry for him. So it was only natural that different caddies became more familiar to me.

At first, I didn’t get to the course much when the little guys and I were out with TJ on Tour. I only met caddies when I was able to get out for a week on my own. By the time Graham came along (our third son), TJ was into his  fourth year playing. And certain caddies were beginning to stand out.

Being in my Caddy Hall of Fame means these guys stood out in some way. Maybe only because I still remember them:

• Hollywood — Hollywood got his name because he was tall, blonde and gorgeous. He may or may not have come from California. He was in his early twenties. He may have been a surfer. Who knew? All anyone knew was that when Hollywood carried a bag, he had his own gallery. He was also rumored to be a Himbo. And thick as a plank. But I couldn’t say. I only knew Hollywood from afar. But if any female at a tournament saw him, you remembered him.

• Zito – I don’t know how Zito got his name. Zito caddied for TJ for a while. Zito is a Harmon — pro Billy Harmon, son of Claude, brother to Dick and Craig. Since Craig was a good friend of TJ’s (good enough to be godfather to our son, Colin) we knew Billy before he became Zito. Anyway — Zito/Billy was part of the Triumvirate of hottie caddies on the Tour, along with Hollywood. Billy was a great caddy. He did an excellent job for TJ. But caddying was a pit stop for him. It has to be, if you’re a Harmon.

• John — The third part of the young Triumvirate. John was his real name. I can’t remember his caddy “name,” but I sure remember him. John actually stayed at our house. By now we had four kids. So when we traveled, it was en masse. In TJ’s last year on Tour, John was caddying on a pretty regular basis for TJ, and he had no place to stay and no ride to the Anheuser Busch tournament at Kingsmill, in Williamsburg, VA. So he became one of my “boys.” I liked John. He was always well-mannered around me. Traveling in our beloved “Wagon Queen” — a gigantic  Pontiac station wagon — we packed all six of us, all the luggage and John on an 8 hour car trip. God love him! Sadly, TJ had to let him go after he found out John was carrying “20 years to life” in drugs inside TJ’s bag. (I always thought his man purse was a little odd.)

• Gypsy — Gypsy was one of the older caddies, one of the veterans. Unlike Hollywood, Zito and John (I think John eventually got arrested), Gypsy was there for the long haul. When he caddied for TJ, he was quiet, a serious worker. He also watched out for me, helping me get through the gallery to an advantageous spot, or coming over to the ropes when he could to let me know what was up. He had longish, wild graying hair, a Poncho Vila moustache,  and a weathered, leathered face. I remember Gypsy most because TJ invited him to stay at our house when he drove up north to drive TJ’s car to a tournament, and instead of waking us in the night when he arrived, he slept in the car out in our driveway. That, and the time he pulled out a tooth while walking down a fairway, and threw it in the grass. All in a day’s work.

And in my Hall of Infamy:

• The nefarious “Uncle Mikey.” When the Tour wound down at the end of October (in those days), Mike the Caddy had been caddying for a while for TJ. There was always something I didn’t trust about him, but somehow he wheedled an invitation from TJ to stay with us for a few weeks. (If you remember from my post about our days on the mini-tour, you know TJ was big-hearted that way.) I’m pretty generous too — so I put up with this guy from New Jersey ensconsing himself in our home. But he was… slimy in some way. Too “buddy buddy” with TJ. Yes, caddies get close to players, but this guy acted like he’d gained some status no caddy had ever reached. And he criticized the way I cared for our boys (then 8,5,3 and 1), my cooking, and housekeeping. Ultimately, he stole checks from TJ and wrote series of rubber. We ended up having to deal with the police. He disappeared, never to appear on Tour again.

Uncle Mikey is the only caddy to appear in my Hall of Infamy, I’m happy to say.

Do you have any nominees? Caddies have changed a lot — why do you think that happened? I’d love to hear.

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?

Pearls of Tour Wisdom

Changing Your Grip started out a few years ago as a presentation I gave. Eventually, I hope it will become a book.

But why wait for that? The lessons contained in the presentation are valuable at any time.

In addition to my career as a writer, I also speak to groups on subjects like fear and risk, humor in the workplace (I’ll have to resurrect that one and re-read it — it’s not that funny around my office lately), communications skills and more. I gave this presentation to a district meeting of businesswomen.

It’s about lessons I learned and the skills they gave me to succeed and lead. So you see, even if you don’t play golf — even if you hate golf or think it’s boring — and I would’ve, had I not been personally involved with it — there are simple parallels anyone can relate to.

[Don't worry -- what I have to say won't always be serious or teacher-ish. I have a lot of stories from our days with the Tour. All kinds. Stick around.]

For now, I thought I’d give you the first five “pearls” and a little  of what they’re about. Then later on, I’ll talk more about each one in detail.  I hope eventually we can get some players’ takes on their own “pearls.” The nice thing about a blog is that you can explore as many as you want.

Okay? Here goes:

1. Sometimes you need to change your grip.

Often, pros change something about their game — a fundamental, like their grip or swing — because what they’ve been using isn’t working for them. Even Tiger did it. After all, they’re out there to win. To make a living. To be champions.

Changing something within is a monumental task – but one worth doing. Because — what if you could get a different result? One you really wanted?

It’s about changing a belief, self-talk, a behavior, a reaction — whatever keeps you from “hitting the shot where you want it to go.”

2. Play It One Shot At a Time.

If there is any principle or maxim in life that has absolutely worked for me, it’s taking it one step at a time, one day at a time.

People used to ask me: “How do you do it ?” — living alone with our (then) four boys (we had 4 under 8 years old on Tour) for about 9 months of the year, coping with crises, the ups and downs of competitive golf… I used to say I lived one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time. I was very young — still in my 20’s — but I instinctively knew that’s what worked.

How many of us are really living in the present? When a pro starts letting his previous shots get to him, he loses focus on what he needs to do next. As they say on the Tour, the wheels start to come off.

3. Is that shot possible from here?

Pros can find themselves facing terrible luck. Or maybe they hit terrible shots. Just a couple of weeks ago, during the FBR in Scottsdale, I saw Anthony Kim trying to figure out what to do when his golf ball stuck in a big cactus. 

The much loved Bob Rosburg followed guys on the course during ABC golf broadcasts. He was famous for his assessments of disaster when a shot was “challenging.”  He’s got no shot from here, he’d say. It’s impossible.

Smart players assess the situation: What are the obstacles to making a good shot? What’s blocking their path to get back on track? They have to practice every conceivable shot. Be ready for anything. That way, no shot is impossible.

This is about not letting other people decide what you can and can’t accomplish.

4. Know when to lay up. Know when to go for the stick.

Pros will often “lay up.” This technique enables them to better place their approach shots to the green in a more advantageous position — avoiding trouble, like a big water hazard or nasty sand bunkers. Or getting into perfect position to land nearest the pin with a good break, and have a chance to birdie.

Sometimes it’s smart to recognize trouble ahead, play it safe and stay away from danger. But sometimes, you have to take the risk and just go for it.  I loved the movie Tin Cup. It showed — among other things — that you have to have balance in anything.  Going for it every time is a recipe for… exhaustion and stupid moves.

5. Let It Happen.

Trying to force something often causes problems.

This is closely related to one shot at a time… Don’t project ahead. Don’t get caught up in the “what ifs.”  You will drain your energy from what you need to do in this moment and put all your thought and attention into something that hasn’t happened yet — and probably won’t, unless you subconsciously make it happen.

The greatest players are those who can see each shot as a new opportunity, and the last shot as a lesson.

So — there ’s a start.

If you have your own pearl — golf or otherwise, I’d love to hear it.  That’s one of the things I loved most about being around golf and Tour players — the rich wisdom that was often buried in humor and slang. It was never, ever boring.

And it works for all of us.