Caddying

I have never—I repeat, NEVER—watched golf on TV. Until yesterday. Yesterday I was captivated by the playoff between Tiger Woods and Rocco Mediate, captured by the intense drama of a 45-year-old man ranked 158th in the world playing 18 holes with arguably the best golfer ever and hanging in there, until the final stroke of the sudden death hole.

But you know what else I noticed as I watched? The caddies. These guys are dedicated to golf. They follow around the guys who play the game (and make the big bucks) with the bag of clubs slung over their back day after day after day. They help the golfer chose the right club for the right shot. Tiger’s caddy even stopped him just before a shot and asked him to reconsider his approach. “That was a brave thing to do,” said one of the TV commentators. And yet, it just seemed right. After all, the caddy wanted his guy to play well. Thus, his last minute questioning of the shot.

As I watched the support and the camaraderie between the caddies and the golfers, it occurred to me that some of us are called to a “caddying” role in our lives. The caddy has his golfer’s success as his goal. He understands the game in minute detail and advises and encourages the one actually doing the golfing. His is not the place in the spotlight. It’s behind the golfer, mostly out of the view of the cameras. It’s a sweaty, back-breaking job. And yet, for those called to do it, it appears to be immensely rewarding.

Are you “caddying” for someone in your life right now? Perhaps someone is “caddying” for you. Either way, remember that the person doing the thankless job of carrying the clubs and giving advice and support is often more valuable than the winning purse at the end.

3 comments on “Caddying

  1. It was a great tournament, but then I always watch golf. I like your insight on caddies, I have always referred to myself as the manager when people ask if I golf (because everyone else in the family does). Now I think I will say I caddy.

  2. D’Ann,
    Great observation, and interesting that you should blog about the golf tournament at the same time I did, drawing a slightly different lesson from it. Great minds… and all that.

  3. Ouch! I want to be the golfer, not the caddy.
    However, I think as moms, we’ve all had our share of thankless, behind-the-scene hours of being a caddy, and there’s no feeling in the world like experiencing the success of your children, so maybe I wouldn’t mind sometimes.

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