Religious Exposure and Taint-biting Ticks

“Let us pray. I’d like to thank the good Lord for blessing us with this wonderful day and this golf we are about to play. Thank you for bringing everyone here safely Lord, and we ask only to let us enjoy the day.”

That was the start of my loop. All four players huddled on the first tee, bowed their heads and enjoyed a prayer together. And I’m not saying it’s weird. Granted, I’m not one to partake in that sort of thing, but what I WILL say is that they certainly did not take anything for granted out there.

This is a good thing too, because they certainly saw a lot of the golf course that day.

But I have never felt handshakes like those. It was like each of them squeezed just hard enough—long enough—to get a good sense of the kind of person you were. Human spirit detectors. I was a little afraid of this at first, because I’ve BEEN to sales-school, and I know how important that first handshake is. What sort of impression was I leaving on each of them? I was waiting for one of them to pause after shaking my hand and say, “Wait a minute. Are you that sorry sack of shit that writes about caddying on the internet? You’re going to hell you know.”

Instead, they had other important topics to discuss.

“Hey Bob, when Satan tries to tempt you…what do you do? Do you just flick it off like it was nothin’?”

“Well I suppose it would depend on what it is David.”

“Well, I mean…have you heard of this Kama Sutra stuff?”

“No…can’t say I have David…why?”

“Or this Tantric massage?”

“Well, I must admit, I have indulged in that from time to time.”

All four of them made it a habit on every hole to take their own personal paths to enlightenment. Every shot they hit was in a different direction. They were all such free fucking spirits. They would each take a mighty swing, drop their club and glide angelically over the rough like a higher power was pulling them on a string further and further into the trees. I swear to sunny Jesus they split me on every hole.

Whiff.

“What happened there? What am I doing?”

No idea. It happened so fast. Can you take a club real quick so I can help your friend?

Chunk.

“Why did that happen? My swing feels like…Poopy.”

“What do you think for your next shot? Putter?”

“I’m 83 yards from the front.”

“So…putter?”

“Where’s Tom? I need a club.”

“Sorry! I’M STILL TRYING TO GET HIM TO USE HIS PUTTER!”

“But he’s 83 yards away from the front!”

And on and on.

I’ve also discovered that on a humid day when you’re caddying hard, your mind starts playing tricks on you. The other caddie in the group noticed it first on 8. He winced, pitched forward a little and started grabbing at his crotch.

“Oh FUCK man…damn…feels like a tick is biting my TAINT.”

I just laughed, knowing it was some acute form of caddie ass playing tricks with his mind. But then it happened to me on 12. And when this happens to you, your mind starts racing, trying to remember every time in your LIFE that you may have wandered into tall grass. Were there any ticks in there? Or how about when I went in the water the other day? Any ticks there?

Some pretty scary stuff. And of course the players don’t understand. They just see some sweaty caddie with two bags on his shoulders grabbing his crotch and squealing like Michael Jackson on a couple of glowing tiles.

Woooo!! Heeeeeheeeee!!

It’s not funny. It hurts like a bitch man. And the sad part is, it’s not like I can go to a drugstore and try to explain to a pharmacist what my problem is. It would be too embarrassing. Plus, I’m not really sure if he knows what a “taint” is anyway. He’d probably get me some Brill Cream and call it a day.

I mean, I could still USE it. But it wouldn’t really help my situation.

Take care all.