From bogey to eagle: Lessons in learning from a novice golf caddie

Eight years ago I could barely spell ‘golf.’ Secretly, I did not have a whole lot of time for golf, a game that is all about competing as an individual, not a team, and chasing a passive little white ball that does not move until you hit it. 

I should also admit to being a tad cynical about the many hours of practice my partner did, almost every day, to improve his golf technique. He seemed to be expert enough to me, to the point where the time required to achieve incremental gain was an impost. But then, at the age of 50, he qualified to play on the PGA Australia Legends golf tour. And as the cool kids say, "things got real" - or something like that. I realised I needed to learn to be a caddie if I was to support his career. Or understand the difference between good and great golf. Or even see him throughout the year. 

I need to make something clear pretty early on, something I really did not understand until we were a few years into this tour. Elite golf is not the same game as club golf – in fact, elite golf is not a game. In my world of large corporates, there are many people who are very good at golf, and even aspire to playing on the senior tour. But they have not literally bet their house on it, the way most pro players have, so it will always be a game to them. I recall one of Australia’s best players saying that he was looking forward to the day that he could enjoy a round of golf again, the way he used to when he was a child. That practice time required for incremental gain is the difference between being a great golfer and winning tournaments amongst equals, which means winning money. There is just as much pressure in the work environment of a golf course as there is at a Ministerial launch event in a convention centre. 

As a complete novice, I became a learner of the game of golf, dropping right in the deep end, at the elite point of the profession. In all respects of the game. No pressure.

It started well. The easy part was researching the rules of golf. “Theory of Golf 101”. Formal learning is something I know well. I can study. Passed the test. Next. Using the technology, the range finder, measuring distances, remembering how far each club goes. I know my St Andrews course from my St Andrews Beach course. All good.

Then came the pressure of competition and the need to truly support my player in his chosen profession, rather than be a burden. I was taken back to the sick feeling of panicked helplessness that comes with walking into a university exam when you know you have not mastered the concepts. “Turn up, keep up, shut up”, the three golden rules of caddying, didn’t really cover it. There are many books for players wanting to know how to improve their golf but not so many on how to be a great caddie, especially to the standard expected in a professional tournament.

I had to go back to learning this game from the beginning – in a realm in which I had absolutely no experience. My learning to date has been building on a vast store of knowledge and experience of leadership in government and business. No confidence issue here. But I definitely had a confidence issue when being exposed as the least knowledgeable on the course, with no familiar, formal learning bridges to help me.  

I didn’t know that not all golf courses have a par of 72. I didn’t recognise the “whizz” sound of a golf ball struck perfectly. I didn’t know any etiquette around the green. I didn’t know that what happens on the course, with your player, is intensely personal and a million miles from what people see from the sidelines. Actually, what I didn’t know would fill a book, way longer than the rules of the golf manual.

To be the worst on the course, the most ignorant, the least physically fit and the one most likely to be in the wrong place at any given time, was difficult. There was just too much to take in all at once, especially under pressure. I had two choices – give up, or get humble, accept the advice of all who helped me, and admit that I had a lot to learn. 

“Beginners mindset” is currently a buzz word in management theory and I have heard endless conversations about how to “get” it. To me, true beginners mindset is really simple. It comes when you honestly admit to yourself and others that you are the worst on the course – and are OK with that. You suspend judgment, listen, and commit to improving your performance every single time you go out. I am good at asking questions and you need to assume there is always more to learn if this process is to work.

You tend to learn from whoever you can. One of the other, highly experienced WAGs became my friend early on. She does not see herself as a mentor, but she was a Godsend to me. From introducing me to all the other players and WAGs to show them that I was not an outsider, to showing me how to prepare the bag and tend the flag, she offered helpful tips along the way without making me feel stupid. Over time she taught me how to conserve energy, manage travel arrangements and create a space away from the constant pressure of golf talk with strangers. She reminded me to wet the towel after each 9 holes on a hot day and to walk upright up hills while pushing the bag, to prevent back injury. These were tiny, precious pieces of wisdom that helped me form a tapestry of understanding.

In the meantime I was learning about my player. One of the lovable characters on the Legends Tour introduced me to the other players as “the psychologist”. I laughed at first but then realised how true it is. All these guys can play brilliant golf in a technical sense – and on their day, almost any of them can win a tournament. At the top of the field the difference is not all about ability, it’s attitude. What makes an elite golfer a standout from the rest is mental strength and resilience – the exact two things we executives know are essential to succeed in business. A good caddie knows their player and how to draw out their best – when to celebrate, when to distract, when to shut up, when to put on the pressure. I know my player... finally, something I could build on!

Some ProAms offer a chance to executive caddies like me to learn about humility – and what it is like to not be the naturally appointed leader in the room. Once, when my partner played with a group of older male executives it became a real identity challenge for me as they only deigned to speak to him. In the boardroom I am the Chair. On the golf course I was the learner. I had to put my ego firmly to one side and not be distracted. After watching them confidently hack around the course for 9 holes I muttered that maybe beginners mindset was something we could all benefit from. I don’t think they realised their opportunity to accept the role of least knowledgeable on the course and seek to learn from the pro in their midst. I may have also muttered something under my breath about “hacking dogs”. Everyone can learn if they admit that they can always be better and have a true beginners mindset. Most days it is a pleasure to meet the new playing partners. My report card that day read “More humble but a long way from perfect”. 

After five years, I still do not select a club for my player, nor even hand him one. I can check his calculations on distance from the front of the green to the flag, but I cannot read the greens for him. Great caddies do these things well. I may still get lost, wander around the wrong side of the green, and end up late to the next tee. Great caddies are like the co-driver in a rally car. I am a million miles from them and I know I still have a lot to learn. Luckily for me, my player has convinced me that second guessing him is not helpful out on the course. Knowing how to inspire and support him is more important than knowing how to hit a golf ball. 

Learning something completely new, where nothing is familiar, is a revelation. The only way to succeed is to accept that you are starting at the beginning and learn as much as you can, in any way you can, from those around you. When you have no positional authority and no experience base to draw on, it can be totally liberating. You have the ability to be truly curious – to ask all the questions you need to, without feeling exposed. Within a beginners mindset, you find that your best mentor has both the experience and the desire to share knowledge at the level and rate that you can learn at. 

The best caddie is not necessarily the best player, it is the person who knows the player best. I know what I am good at, in business, and am comfortable to be a novice learner in golf, hopefully no longer the worst on the course, but still with a long way to go. I hope I manage to keep the beginners mindset, even as I become more expert – to make it par for the course (sorry).