Hand me my walking cane before I go insane (Leon Redbone )

The end of another year. Most club caddies if they
do the full season walk well over 1000 miles. Thats
like walking from here to Copenhagen every year.
I have calf muscles the size of China...my left shoulder
is like a piece of leather....and I have some weird aches and
pains in most parts of my body. One of the caddies we may
have to shoot since he is so lame.
The culling of caddies is not a good idea however as there
are so few of us left..there is always at least one fatality every
year . This year we lost Tommy Tilletts " shitlips " , a morose
surly small individual who didnt have a good word to say about
anybody...and a man who wouldnt give you the steam of his piss.
What brought about his rather dark attitude to life was hard to
say....but if you were to accompany him on a round you would
inevitably be in a rage at the end of it. If he to start drinking he
could not stop until he was hospitalised. Unsurprisingly he lived
on his own and had few friends . When I was asked why I wasnt
at his funeral I answered ..." Well hes not going to mine ! "
However difficult some of these characters are its odd
that a certain amount of familiarity breeds affection. I was fond of
Tommy even though I was sad that he had never found a way of
enjoying his life. I had long conversations with him about this
subject but he was sure that the gods had shat on him. I suppose
many people see life as a bone crunching hike through a forest.
Many of my customers see life in much the same way. But
its real to them. One of my customers spends most of his time in the
woods, berating me for losing his ball.
" Im not going in there....its dark...Ive got a note from the
caddiemaster....." I plead. To no avail , the ball has to be found and Im
the lad with the responsibility. It sucks....perhaps Tommy was right.
Dear old Tommy....rest in peace

Permission to walk round the swamp for a couple of months ,sir ?

I have been given permission to work the winter
by my gracious caddiemaster Vincenzo and his able
second in command Damon. I am pleased about this
since it seems that I have completed my 6 year
apprenticeship, and now I am part of the shack card
school perhaps the "rats " wont bully me so much.
Do I get a tie , or learn a secret handshake ? Does that
come later. It has to be remembered that a lot of the
caddies have never done anything else , and some indeed
have been there nearly all their lives. I am genuinely glad.
However given our present volatile weather conditions,
it may well be tough. I once caddied in a snow blizzard at
St. Georges Hill G.C. and the guy said to me after the snow
had settled
" Can you see my ball caddie ? "
" HALLO ! "
He must have thought I had special glasses on .
But the worst day this year was a spoilt jolly boys outing
to the sticks. Every year Bunty Worcester invites his old
pals from Eton and a few interlopers to Stynchcombe Hill
for a two round stapleford competition . Some of the toffs
take their favourite caddies. This year the weather was so
bad that at one point the wet clouds were so low that you
couldnt see more than 50 metres in front of you. It was so
miserable ....it was like an army exercise. Depressing and
totally exhausting. It took me 3 days to dry out.
The worst places to get stuck in a storm are Walton
Heath G.C. and the Oxfordshire. Both quite beautiful tracks.
Walton Heath has few trees under which to find shelter...and
the Oxfordshire is built in a vale where the prevailing winds
often screech. I have quite often caddied for an old barrister
at the Oxfordshire , and the last time we were there I thought
he might have been blown away. Gawd bless im !
As all serious golfers know there is no such thing as bad
weather....just the wrong clothing. Yeh.....right. They want to
battle around Stynchcombe Hill....just south of Gloucester.
best of luck.....

check it out now funk soul brother ( Fat Boy Slim )

Excitement mounts here in B-right-on as we
approach another Fat Boy concert on the beach.
I hope hes handing out plenty of blankets ! Its
just at the end of our road so I might look in.
I was caddying for the great Theodore Funnel,
wit raconteur , and shot inventor today. He had to
be inventive today since most of his shots were from
behind trees. He did make one astonishing birdie on the
10th. After a pulled drive he had about 210 yards in,
wind slightly helping off the left . He pulled " Sexy sadie "
( his 7 wood ) from the bag , and stuck it to about 5 feet.
Brilliant shot.
My caddie companion for the round was the Baby Staines
...more shite than brains who was overly generous with his
cigarettes. A good lad and potentially brighter than the other
caddies since he knows the alphabet. He asked me if he could
come down to B-right-on , but hes rather young and I dont
know if he should be exposed to the likes of Ron....er...Jenny.
The great Theodore informed me he was on his way to Barbados
to play with the likes of Mcmanus and Desmond . Some big
money on that game ! Today was the normal stakes. Our
partner today was the uplifting Colonel , ex SAS and Virgin Radio.
It was pleasant enough since it stayed dry which is all one can
hope for at this time of the year. This is the first time I have
worked a winter at the Dale....and so far it has not been that bad.
I can now look forward to enjoying two days off to celebrate
the end of the year....I should really accept that I am too old to be
twisting the night away at a Fat Boy concert. I am a bit anti
flabbies at the moment since I have lost so much weight.
COME ON 2oo7.....lets see what you got to offer !

Im not going to say it again....Im not going to say it again....Im not going to say it again..

" I know a song that will get on your nerves,
Get on your nerves
Get on your nerves
Get on your nerves
Get on your nerves........! "
So this joke involves the insensitivity of man generally.
Course Im not like that. Ive learnt in the school of hard
knocks.
~ A woman comes home from work one day and
her husband looks very upset.....she enquires why ?
" Oh the cat died ! "
" Oh thats nice isnt it .....she remonstrated....you
could have softened the blow....you could have said
she was playing on the roof ...and because of the recent
rain she slipped , fell....and you rushed it to the vets but
despite his best efforts the poor moggie died.......but no
you had to come right out with it ....! "
" Well ...sorry .." he mumbled
A couple of months later she returned from work again
only to see a forlorn expression on her old mans face. She
asks why ?
" Well funny old day really ....your mum was playing on the
roof...and because of the rain....... ~
That joke was told to me by Russ Monk on the West course
at Wentworth many years ago .....no relation to Russ Conway
who used to be on the Billy Cooton Band Show . Marvellous
invigorating Saturday evening entertainment that I enjoyed as
a young man. And also a tenuous link back into the golf world.
Now heres a good golf joke for you.....NAH....SAVE IT FOR
LATER ( The Beat ).
Big youse up guys

boxing gloves out on the appropriate day....and relax

nearly over....not long now. I feel as though I am
walking onto the seventeenth tee two up. Dormi.
What could possibly go wrong now ? I managed
to keep the memsahib away from the gin and tear
free. No in-laws entered my property during the
mad celebrations and I only had a couple of glasses
myself . I feel satisfied with my presents .
I did get a strangely emotional moment when
I was listening to the Dubliners in the kitchen (weird
the people that turn up ! ) , and wrote a poem .
But all in all I can just about deal with a bit of peas
and quiet of a Xmas. Its battle stations soon and back
to work. Marvellous.
I have cracked it. The answer is if you dont want
to fraternise ....dont do it. My partners relatives cant
help it..and why should I take the higher ground....
peas and good wills to all men...or vegetables and
inheritance ....thats what makes sturdy families.
" and I called me wife and I said to her...
would you kindly tell to me...
Who knows those feckers outside the door..
Where my old feckers should be....."
( The Dubliners ).....beautiful lyrics...
So now the next thing to anticipate and draw up
plans for is the New Years celebrations. How can I
stay up on this surfboard after fourteen pints of stout ?
Not easy......is anything ?

getting to be a woooos in my old age....xmas shopping

Now the normal manly thing to do about Xmas
shopping is to leave it all to the last minute. Leave it
to two hours before the shops close on Xmas eve....
and blitz it. Stride confidently into Boots or Marks
and hand off all the old biddies and arrive home
triumphantly with an enormously original present.
Last year however the memsahib seemed inadequately
pleased with the toolbox ( handy for all the jobs around the
house ) I bought her. The year before that she seemed so
moved by the brush I bought her she burst into tears. ( She
later confessed to be disappointed ! ). So this year I thought
I would put more thought into it.....and grapple with the great
unwashed on the 23rd of December. The problem with early
shopping is that you are not driven or inspired by panic....ergo
....the less original the present. I bought her a pair of overalls
and a bucket ( handy for all those jobs in the garden ). Now to the
ordinary straight thinker this might seem a bit unromantic but
the sublimal message is quite clear. .......I see you as part of the
house and my investment in the future. Its clear.
Im sure my choice this year has been the right one....I will
keep you posted.......If however I dont get my pea-pod as ordered
you may hear the angry shouts where you live. Why do you think
they have the Great Escape on every year.....is there no message
there....have you thought about that ? I dont think you have.
I wont know what to do with my time tomorrow...theres
always the Cannon.

what youd expect in B-right-on....

Now the pit stop of discerning Kemptowners is
the Golden Cannon. A scruffy nicotine soaked local
pub for local people where gangsters mix amicably
with shirtlifters and we all pretend to get on in a manly
sporty kind of way. The bald fat landlord watches over
this motley crew and often calls you a cab if you get to
loud. We call him a c~nt !
There are of course some great characters in there.
And one of them is called Ron. A large hairy man who
likes wearing womans clothing, and a large blonde wig.
He sits on two chairs at the end of the bar. He (she? )
has a gravelly voice a la Mike Reid in Eastenders. A
normal exchange would go something like this...
" Whatcha Ron ! you OK ? "
" Not bad geezer....howse your luck ?
" Yeh good thanks Ron....lovely dress..very summery ! "
" Yeh ...Laura ashley....bit worried that the floral design
makes me look a bit like a poof .....what do you think ..?"
" Not a bit of it ...Ron..."
" Less of the Ron sunshine....from now on I want you
to call me Jenny...."
Its so surreal and funny ....it puts you in a good mood
until the nasty landlord calls you a cab.
I normally occupy the gnarled sofa at the back of the
pub so the memsahib cant see me through the broken windows.
I have a limited range of conversation about womans clothing
so its best not to show this lack of knowledge. Im more up on
football ( should Stan Bowles go to Gamblers Anonymous ? )
and sex ( should clitorises be signposted ? ) and philosophy
( does chewing gum lose its flavour on the bed post over night ).
I normally express my views to a confused group of small time
crooks in the corner. I then like to sing a couple of old Welsh
folks songs while Im waiting for the cab. It seems to jolly things
a long a bit.
Its a marvellous institution....the local battle cruiser...
pop in for a pint.....

mississipi hippie wins a big one

What do you do when you are waiting ? At this time
of year there is a lot of waiting . In my case I cant wait
for winter to end . To pass the interminable day after day
of badinage and banter in the shack we play cards. Now up
until now I have not really been allowed in the big games...
the top table so to speak. The top table consists of " Narky "
Larky , ( an old grumpy caddie ), Nigel " Plants ", a green
caddie, " Fun Time " Frankie ( another old grump ), Chilli,
and John Wiltshire " Warwickshire ( ex-pro golfer and
gobshite ). A seasoned bunch of herberts who eye each other
suspiciously over the card table. Today I was allowed to
participate.
Once everyone had been frisked for cards up the sleeves
or in the socks...the game began in earnest. 12 card brag....
first to 61 points....winner gets the pot ! I had to put up with
a certain amount of shouting from " Narky " Larky ....stuff
like ..." Its your fecking lay Hippie...! " , and a barrage of
abuse when I missed a flush....but Im sure they were just
encouraging me to be a better player...nothing malicious.
They are a good bunch of chaps especially round Xmas.
I kicked their fat arses....took the pot and am now thinking
of a career on the professional poker circuit....my new nom-
-de-plume is Mississipi Hippie or hipster the tipster. Yes I
can see it all now.....Mungo Grunto will put up the money
for the film....it will be like the Colour of Money...but with
a leading man who doesnt have to stand on a box. Just think
I have waited for 54 years to find out Im a card shark.
Marvellous!

four king twats.....a xmas tale

I once followed this star ( not that Im comparing myself
to royalty you understand ) and I got charged for stalking.
A largely overrated pastime I found cos you always have to
do what another person wants to do....theres no fun in that.
I found it very uncomfortable at times when Cate was going
through lingerie departments and I didnt know where to look
in the changing rooms. I said to her one day..."Hey listen why
dont we go for a drink Cate ? "
She said " Who the fuck are you and why are you following
me around ? "
Inns ? Believe me I know what they mean about Inns. Why I
have even been invited cordially into Inns only to be shown the
door again. I was once banned from an Inn for life !
Virgin birth ? Is that like an allegory ( rotten cars by the way ) ?
Is that like catching VD from a warm towel ?
I dont know about you but this biblical thing doesnt always stand
up for me . Why should the birth of our saviour cause me so much
angst and unhappiness every year....Ill tell you why because he knows
Im cynical about the whole thing.......I can punch holes in his story so hes
cursed me. Oh lord....oh be jesus....be jabbers.....Ill never go to heaven
now.
I blame those inquisitive royals.....four king twats....or was it three ?
Tommorrow I shall be discussing Buddism ....did the big fat geezer
really eat all the pies and is that why he looks so smug
I thank you for your attention.....HOY....wake up at the back there.

my main man ups my Xmas bonus by a farthing

One of the main qualities of a caddie at club or tour level,
should be loyalty. An old fashioned idea where you should
believe that your man will eventually improve and you can
both move onwards and upwards towards the big money games.
A kind of mutual enrichment process. At club level of course you
rarely find something of quality that you can work with. Its often
a case of finding balls.....or ducking clubs that are thrown in anger.
Often its just a case of finding a bloke to caddy for that can
tolerate your foibles and you can tolerate their tempers. I have
some tolerable regular billies ( billy bunters-punters ). One who
I have mentioned before is the colourful Theodore Funnel, wit,
raconteur , and shot inventor. This man I have caddied for for many
years. He has never once taken any of the advice I have given him.
He sees me just as an amusing companion. He expects me to know the
names of his clubs ( Sexy sadie - 7 wood ) and to turn up on the first tee
sober. Not very demanding you might think.....and indeed you would be
right.
However the weekly journey....or magical mystery tour as I like to call
it is fraught with danger and stress. I have seen parts of the course where
even the greenkeepers dare not go......I have seen weird animals in dark
recesses of the track. I am regularly barked at by this evil tempered man
called all sorts of obscene names, and he calls me a miserable Welsh bastard.
But Im sure one fine day he will improve and that he will reward me
handsomely once Ive learnt the names of all his clubs. This year my Xmas
bonus increased from a guinea to a guinea and a farthing. He is a righteous
and wonderful man who I am sure likes animals. I have suggested to him that
perhaps he might find bowls more relaxing .....he told me to feck off. Quite
right too.
Blind loyalty....who feckin needs it ?

you can bring pearl ..shes a darn nice girl but dont bring Chilli

Years ago I used to tell a Copenhagen story about my
best mate Biffo....and his rather brutish attitude to women.
It was a kind of ....there but for the grace of God go I ..story.
Had I not been force fed Marylyn French...Greer...Erica Jong
by successive feminist girlfriends I would too have never progressed
from the welsh caveman stage. It was a simple story about an exchange
between myself and my Dublin mate. It went something like this
" Oh look at that beautiful Danish blonde over there , Biffo...I
wish I could strike up a conversation with her....I wonder how I
should approach her ? "
" Shes a feckin ride , Dave.....! "
I now have a similar type buddy in the form of Chilli. A rather
uncouth dishevelled fellow covered in tatooes and oozing attitude
from every pore. He likes Biffo stories as he sees in him a paddy
soul mate. Sitting in our new chintzy after work play area " Chatts ",
today I was waxing lyrical about the young barmaid , stealing
smiles from her , rearranging my mullet in a provocative way when
Chilli pipes up.
" You fancy that....dont you cloppy...you twat ? "
" Ill thank you to remember Chilli, my nom-de-plume is Hippy !"
" Im going to send her a rude text in a minute that will get
her going.....Ill tell you that you fecker !"
" And are you going to quote some Shakespeare or perhaps a
more modern work ...Chilli.....perhaps something by Donne...? "
I enquired
" Nah...nah....nah....Im going to send her a picture of me cock ! "
Well I didnt know what to say.......I just left with all the dignity I
could muster. I was glad to get back to Brighton where men are men,
( so they say ) and a lot of women are men, and some of the population
can tell the difference between stork and butter. And we are a lot happier
for it I must say. Goodnight

Just think of all the good times that Ive wasted..having good times (Kevin Coyne )

"Chatts.."..thats the name of the new battle cruiser.
Fun time Frankie and I popped in there today to check it
out. The other caddies present were Twiglet and Baby Staines
....more shite than brains. ( I thought nick-names were supposed to
be concise ). At one point there were 6 staff in there and 6 customers.
Brian at least didnt threaten to boot me up the arse as he has done in the
past so that customer service course was not wasted on him. But I am
sorry to report that it had all the soul of soggy crisps. It was cold...the decor
was dull.....and the same bores were sitting at the bar. It had the ambience
of a motorway service station.
I had been warned by the scouts Chilli and Justin "Time "who ventured
in there last night. But I had to see for myself. It has a snowball in hells chance
of making any money. ....and you could see the new owners premature panic
after only two days in business...he actually tried to have a conversation with me.
I confused the cockney upstart by banging in some of my mots de jour....
unsynthesised manifold....that confused him......and he left grumbling.
Worked today for an absolute charmer.....Jock Miller.....who has booked
me for next wednesday. Darren Clarke may be playing on wednesday.....I
hope he notices that I am looking after his old shoes....size 13...you could sail
the Atlantic in them with a full crew. It was a sunny bright day....the lull
before another storm we have been warned....well see.......
a bientot

Fine lines , fine wines , oooo what a time we had ! (john Martyn )

The Marriage. It was an old fashioned bar with a pool table
slightly soiled.....but it had a long and troubled association with
local caddies. We used to mooch down there in between rounds
to shoot some shit. It was a place where people used to come to
hear some funny caddie stories. It was a place close to my heart
....it was there I first taught Chilli the round system.
It took some doing I can tell you. I used to have to repeat
almost continually...." Its called the ROUND SYSTEM Chilli ! "
He got it in the end. Not for everybody...but for me ...bless him.
We harassed many barmaids and gave them a proper grounding
in bar ways than one. We got through many management pairings
who are probably still frothing at the mouth......one couple even
moved to New Zealand ! I was chased one night out of the bar
by a chap weilding a mountain bike in a threatening way...glory days.
While they are all sipping their spritzers tonight and talking
about the increase in the stamp duty....I wonder how many of them
will raise a glass to us caddies that kept that bar in business for so
many years. Not many , Benny. But you can be sure that as sure as
eggs is eggs....well be back when the new wallpaper starts to peel....
and the place will be rocking again.
Your a snail, Brian.

another boozer hits the dust

We had a boozer where most of the caddies congregated ...
it was called the exchequers....we called it the marriage (wreckers ).
A lot of the caddies were barred for various misdemeanours. But it was
where I first bonded wid de lads. It was taken over recently by a
bloke called Brian the builder. a man who has made a bit of dosh...and
he fancied sprucing it up a bit and perhaps attracting a more celubrious
clientele. The caddies used to occasionally drink with the likes of Mcginley
and Big D. We used to ponce drinks off them. It is a pub on the A30
completely surrounded by golf clubs....famous golf clubs. There are more caddies
hanging about this area than any other area in the UK.
The smart thing to do would have been to make it into a golf themed
battle cruiser.....with practice nets out the back....and golf games galore
on de fecking floor. The golf fraternity would have come flocking....but no
......Brian had other ideas. He has clawed his way up from the building trade
and he wants to chat with middle class wallers....and why not. But sadly it
no longer even pretends to serve the community in which it is based. As I
understand it the caddies....or the majority of them are no longer welcome.
It just shows you that however much you progress in life.....a little learning
may well be a dangerous thing. I think Alexander Pope once said that.
I just wish him luck.......