From $5 A Loop To $150 A Bag

I grew up caddying at Wannamoisett Country Club in Rumford, Rhode Island, from the tender age of 9 through my teenage years, eventually hanging up my caddie duties in 1980 at 19. It was a transformative experience-not just in shaping my work ethic and teaching me life lessons, responsibility, patience, and human interaction, but also in delivering a few unexpected milestones. At 17, I had my first "Mrs. Robinson" moment, caddying for a captivating older woman. What began on the course that day continued at the driving range that night and eventually led back to her place. Let's just say I was ahead of my time in understanding the term "cougar." Thursday was ladies day at the club and this woman was a guest of the club member and I remember laughing with her later about it and the fact to this day it was the best job ever growing up as a kid and around the members hearing stories from them talking with their playing partners, you grew up fast.

Back then, we didn't have the modern conveniences of today's caddying world-no bibs, no schedules, no GPS and certainly no cell phones to organize our day. We stood around for hours in the caddie pit, pitching pennies, all jumping in someone's car for Dunkin Donuts before a group we called "the dawn patrol" would tee off first every morning hoping to be called for a loop. Today, a caddie knows ahead of time what loops are booked, thanks to their phone, so they don't have to be told to go wait in some obscure place like the caddie pit we did so you aren't seen. They can plan their day or even the next without the endless waiting around we endured.

A Different Era of Caddying
In the 1970s, my caddying career began with a $5 payout for carrying a single bag. By the time I finished, I was earning around $15 per bag, or $30 for a double loop-a term used for carrying two bags in one round. These weren't the featherweight, sleek carry bags you see today; these were heavy, leather Burton bags loaded with gear. The leather straps dug into my shoulders, but we didn't complain. It was a job, and we took pride in it. Back then, being a caddie required a sharp memory and a keen eye. We were expected to know the course inside and out-not just the layout, but the subtleties of every hole. Yardages weren't handed to us with the press of a button on a rangefinder. Instead, we calculated distances the old-fashioned way, using landmarks like sprinkler heads, the back of a bunker, or a particular tree. Accuracy came from experience and training, not technology.

Today's caddies have it much easier in that regard. With yardage finders and GPS watches, precise measurements are just seconds away. While these tools enhance the job, I can't help but feel a sense of pride in the way we once operated. We relied solely on our instincts and the naked eye, a skill set that demanded focus and precision. It was just another way we worked to ensure we provided value to the players we served.

Fast Forward to Today
Now, at 63, when I have the pleasure of using a caddie at high-end clubs, the dynamic feels entirely different. Caddies today often earn anywhere from $100 to $150 per bag-figures that seem astronomical compared to what I once made. Of course, inflation and the
increased affluence of many private clubs play a role in this dramatic jump in pay.

However, it's not just the money that's changed. I've noticed a new trend: caddies no longer assume they'll carry the bag the golfer arrives with. Instead, they often switch out heavy bags for lightweight alternatives without even asking. This would have been unthinkable in my time. Back then, we took pride in carrying whatever bag we were handed, no matter how unwieldy or over-packed. Today, the focus seems to have shifted from enduring the physical challenge to optimizing convenience for the caddie.

Having spent a decade as a caddie myself, I can tell within the first hole if a caddie knows what they're doing. It's an instinct honed from years of experience-and sometimes it's painfully obvious when they don't. One thing I definitely don't need is a caddie lining up my 3-footer for double bogey. That's usually the moment they get "the look." You know the one-the universal signal for please go stand over there. Humor aside, I respect the work they do, but it's safe to say I have my own way of doing things after all these years.

Caddying has changed in ways I never would have imagined, but that unspoken partnership between golfer and caddie still remains at the heart of the game-whether I like their bag-swapping and alignment tips or not.

Today's Caddie: What Do We Know?
Back in the day, caddies weren't just bag carriers; they were ball hawks and the ultimate focus group on the course. Guys like Al Ryding, Mark Hogan, Gerard Conforti, the Tracy brothers-Bob, Ted, and Kevin JJ Sprague, the Anthony brothers Paul and Joe Mooch Thompson, and the Riverside boys were the gold standard. And let's not forget the twin caddie masters, Billy and Steve Rice, who ran the show with precision. When their player was hitting, they were locked in, tracking every shot like their life depended on it. Losing a ball wasn't an option, and if you were another caddie with them who wasn't paying attention, trust me, they'd let you know about it.

They set the tone for what it meant to be a professional caddie, even as teenagers.

It makes me wonder, should today's caddies be held to a measurable standard? What if players filled out a stat sheet at the end of the round? Did the caddie lose any balls or fail to focus? Did they provide accurate yardages? Could they read greens and rake traps properly?

Did they hustle? These metrics might sound over the top, but they're exactly what guys like Al, Mark, Gerard, the Tracys, JJ, the Anthonys, Mooch, and the Riverside crew prided themselves on. This is a profession. Work at it. Earn your keep instead of just being a bag carrier.

And don't get me started on the forecaddies at some of today's clubs. These are guys who don't even carry the bags-they just stroll along, maybe holding your putter while you drive the cart. I'm not a fan. What amazes me is when they don't rake a bunker or fail to pay attention to where the player's ball went. Why do I need that? And then, at the end of the round, each of us hands this guy $50-or sometimes more. For what? So when I get a caddie that doesn't live up to the standard, I can't help but think: where's my stat sheet to fill out at the end of the round? A little accountability wouldn't hurt.

Reflecting on the Evolution
The evolution of caddying mirrors broader changes in society. In my youth, the job demanded grit, and you earned every dollar through sweat and effort. Today, while the role still requires skill and attention to detail, the shift towards comfort and higher wages suggests a redefinition of what it means to serve.

Does this make today's caddies less hardworking? Not necessarily. The job still involves navigating the course, managing the player's expectations, and understanding the game. However, there's a part of me that misses the unspoken code of resilience and adaptability that defined my generation of caddies.

That said, I still find myself asking, What's changed to justify this kind of money? Don't get me wrong I understand the economics of it, and I respect the profession. But if a caddie is earning $100 to $150 per bag, shouldn't it be up to the player whether or not they switch out the bag? I mean, for that kind of pay, carry the tour bag, the kitchen sink, and maybe the dog, too.

Humor aside, I can appreciate how caddying has adapted to modern expectations. Times change, and the profession has evolved to meet those changes. But every now and then, I can't help but wonder if we've lost a bit of the rugged authenticity that made the job what it was back in the day.

A Legacy of Hard Work
Caddying will always hold a special place in my heart. It taught me lessons that extend far beyond the golf course lessons about life, perseverance, respect, growing up fast and the value of earning your keep. While the game has changed, and the role of the caddie with it, the spirit of the profession remains rooted in service. As I watch modern caddies shoulder lighter loads for heavier paychecks, I can't help but smile. They've found a way to adapt to the times while still providing the essential support golfers need. And while I might reminisce about the days of leather straps and aching shoulders-and, yes, my unforgettable "Mrs. Robinson" experience-I'm grateful for the enduring tradition of the caddie. They remain a vital part of the game, no matter how much it evolves.