It was always going to be a tough relationship from the outset. Cologne Tom was out with Pancho, a hot-blooded South American.
All seemed well the first few holes with, I think, Pancho being a tad surprised that he should have such a colourful character as his caddie. There was much smiling and seeming bonhomie. However, when Pancho stood back from his ball on the fourth, after someone moved slightly, we knew that he was taking this seriously.
And then the bad putting started and the relationship with Tom went into a rapid decline. There were fewer smiles and let’s say much less dialogue. Pancho looked more and more troubled while Tom put on an air of redemptive acceptance.
Walking off the ninth green Pancho seemed very peeved and there was much gesticulation and animated talk with the other players. He implied that Tom had got the line totally wrong again and you could say he then went in the huff.
After another bad miss on the thirteenth, Tom tried to point out the underlying weakness in Pancho’s putting stroke (which was indeed lousy and I think the root of the problem). But I am afraid that was like trying to proffer a Middle East peace deal over a quick cup of tea. Nevertheless I will give it to Tom that it was a valiant (if misplaced) attempt.
We caddies discussed it all going up the sixteenth and Tom suggested that a bottle of 21 year old malt might be the answer. Rather down to earth, ex-stonemason Jimmy, said ‘I would break it over the (short swearword)’s heed.’ Some pause and reflection as Jimmy uttered seriously, thoughtfully and earnestly. ‘but I’d drink it first’.