Tee Time? What's That?

This morning came too early. True, I’m used to waking up around 6 or 6:30 these days, but 4:45? Today I would continue my training as a Caddie Master. I think. I think that was the initial goal. There’s only one problem: there’s only one caddie left at this course. And I had to pick him up.

Basically, I felt more like a big brother than a Caddie Master today.

Which I guess is alright. But when you walk into the pro shop and pick up a copy of the tee-sheet and the thing is freakin’ packed, you’re feeling more like a Starter than a Caddie Master. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, it’s a fairly laid-back position and I certainly needed the break after all the work I’ve been doing lately.

And now that I think about it, being a Starter today was just about the only thing I would’ve accepted anyway, because if you’ve only got one caddie to pimp, you’re not doing much as a Caddie Master. And that would’ve pushed me over the edge by about 8:42 am. Then again, being a Starter does get a little old after a while. You start losing faith in the human race.

Case and point: The driving range is right next to the first tee. I mean it’s right there. You can’t miss it. You know what else you can’t miss? Clocks. Clocks are everywhere too. So, logically, you would think that people coming to PLAY THE COURSE would at least glance over at the clocks once in a while to see if their SCHEDULED TEE TIME is coming up. But no. It seems that somewhere between the clubhouse and the 1^st tee players enter another dimension. Space and time have no meaning. Their swings have no meaning. As a Starter, my words have no meaning.

The tough thing is, every player in the foursome should have already teed off by the time their “scheduled tee time” arrives. That is the essence of “Starter-dom.” That way, you’re either always on pace with the tee-sheet or you’re ahead of schedule and could potentially squeeze in another “secret” tee time if someone so desires.

But nobody on the driving range seemed to give a shit. Well, it’s either that or they just expect that I’ll come down and get them. Which I think was the case today. And I have to say, for such an easy job, it was a lot of work. Especially for someone who doesn’t really KNOW anybody there.

So now it’s a game. I peruse the bags that line the driving range, wait for a player to hold their finish so I can quickly check out the name on the bag and look at the tee sheet to see if the name I saw resembles anything at all. Occasionally I’d get caught and the player would stare me down as if to ask, “What do you want from me and why are you touching my bag?”

“I’m sorry sir. When are you teeing off today?”

“11:20.”

“Well, it’s 11:17. Don’t mean to rush you (*cough* BULLSHIT *cough*), but you should be heading up to the tee now.”

“Do I have time to putt?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because hundreds of squirrels will taunt you if you do.”

“Oh. Well I can handle that. I’ll be up in about 10 minutes.”

And so it went. First I’d be behind schedule. So I was a human cattle driver, corralling people up to the first tee to knock some sense into them. Then there would be a short break in between tee times which would put me AHEAD of schedule, which was great, but now when I went to the range to get people up to the first tee, they would all be upset because they were going BEFORE their time.

“No! It’s not my time yet! Don’t make me go! I didn’t even get to hit my driver!”

Who am I? Death or something? But whatever. I ate a massive lunch and had trouble moving after that. Then the job was easy again.

“You see kids? You tried your best, and you failed miserably. The lesson here is: never try.”

Ahh Homer Simpson. You were ahead of your time.

Now back to my stint as a Caddie Master. There were three possible loops today. The caddie took the one he wanted, and that was it. My job was done. It was pretty pathetic, actually. I understand there are certain challenges that present themselves while you’re performing the role of “Caddie Master,” but almost all of them are averted when caddies are absent. Then you just look bad. What kind of a Caddie “Master” are you? Why couldn’t you “master” those little bastards? But I’m still training. I hope. I’d like to think I could handle myself if I actually had caddies to work with. Guess we’ll just have to see.