It was one of the coldest days I have ever caddied on and we had a good 20 mph wind. Our four Chinese chaps were out on The Castle after having just finished on The Old. They were an energetic bunch but didn’t speak English . Meroee brought out her best and most impressive Cantonese though and the group seemed very happy and up for a game.
One chap unfortunately dropped a wad of 50 pound notes on the first tee which blew off seaward. And I must admit I have never seen caddie Kenny move quite that quick before. Maybe he thought he was saying goodbye to a handsome tip.
Anyway there was obviously a bit of money on this game and my golfer Joe, who’d progressed to communicating with the words ‘ok’ and a rhetorical ‘not in bunka?’, got decidedly hot under the collar after taking 5 putts on the 9th green. He was unhappy about the giving of a short putt to Meroee’s man. There was much animated conversation, gesticulating, measuring, pointing and most serious expressions on all sides. It was resolved quickly and the other three walked away, while Joe kicked his ball into a bunker. An embarrassing silence ensued when I felt impelled to say something, notwithstanding the severe language limitations. I offered a weak ‘it’s ok?’. To which Joe replied loudly and definitively. ‘Not ok!’
And from so few but clear and apt words, I picked up the nuance of Joe’s feelings about the matter.