I'm reading a bio on Bruce Edwards, a caddy for pro Tom Watson, who suffered from ALS. Interesting story (although I'm not necessarily recommending the book).

But it brings back memories of my days as a golf caddy. When my parents moved to a house right across the street from a golf course, my father made me go caddy at age 12. Barely bigger than a golf bag, I began a 5 year career as a toter of all sorts of golfer paraphernalia.

Despite the low pay and hard, hot work, I enjoyed my job. Looking back, I'm not sure why. This was all back in the fifties, sans carts. Sometimes I caddied twice a day (36 holes), often doing double (carrying two bags at once). Weighing less than 125 lbs, it was a demanding summer job. I could work for 4 hours and earn a measly $2--total! But for an early teenager, $2-300 bucks for the summer seemed like a fortune.

Of course, that's how I got started in golf. Day in and day out, I asked myself how could these "hackers" be so bad? I quickly picked up the game, and by age 16 I could beat them all--and get their money by playing rather than carrying their bags.

I understood fully well why Bruce Edwards became a caddy rather than go to college and become a doctor like his father. It's a "call of the wild" that inflicts some people.