Though golf’s odd couple occupies a lofty position on the Western Open leader board, there is room for improvement.
Why, only Friday, Mark Calcavecchia lobbed his ball to his caddie for a quick scrub job on the 17th green, and Ryne Sandberg bobbled.
“Wasn’t even a hard throw, either,” huffed Calcavecchia. “Will be next time.”
“No error from the scorer,” noted Sandberg, “and no boos from the crowds.”
With a 7-under-par aggregate of 137, three swings off Nick Price’s pace after 36 holes, Calcavecchia probably would be creating at least a moderate stir around Cog Hill this week. But the uncommon sight of a perennial All-Star and Gold Glove second baseman carrying Calcavecchia’s bag is why galleries are thick at the ropes and fixated more on that guy in a green apron.
You always knew Ryne Sandberg could turn the double play. You didn’t know he could rake traps, too.
It’s a labor of love, though, which is what retirement is supposed to mean. When he up and left the Cubs, Sandberg’s monthly income was about $925,000. Should Calcavecchia seize victory in the Western Open, Sandberg would realize $21,600 if his boss tips 10 percent. However, these are friends and Arizona neighbors, and it’s not Calcavecchia’s offer that Sandberg couldn’t refuse, but vice versa.
“Zero,” said Calcavecchia. “He gets nothing for his efforts.”
“What about our deal?” said Sandberg. “A dozen balls?”
“And not only that,” continued Calcavecchia, pulling rank, “I’m living free at his place downtown. A cheap weekend.”
Ah, but this is the Western Open, and what better time or place to hail the role of a caddie, celebrity or otherwise. The Western Golf Association that operates this venerable tournament has sent more than 6,000 caddies to college since 1930. They are the blood and soul of golf, even at its highest level.
“You’ve got enough to think about out there,” said Calcavecchia. “If you have a caddie giving you bad information or if it’s someone you don’t like, who needs it? It’s just more aggravation. My wife, Sheryl, caddied for me at Colonial. Here, I’ve got Sandberg. I still have to hit the shots, but he is good at figuring out the wind.”
“Wrigley Field,” said Sandberg. “I should know about the wind.”
The dreaded ex-Cub factor, a curse that has bedeviled many a World Series aspirant, evidently doesn’t translate to golf. Calcavecchia, winless in 1993, also has not finished above a tie for ninth in any event this season. But with Sandberg replacing divots, Calcavecchia is playing exemplary golf as he points toward the British Open, his favorite major and his only major conquest, in 1989.
To Chicago, however, Sandberg is a not an occasional harbinger of good fortune but rather a natural resource who needn’t wear a uniform to be appreciated. Had he obliged all autograph requests and acknowledged every burst of applause, Sandberg and Calcavecchia’s clubs would have finished nine holes behind Calcavecchia.
“Can’t do that,” Sandberg said. “I have to keep up with him. I really didn’t think I’d cause this much commotion. It’s Chicago, yeah, but it’s also golf.”
Sandberg is not so naive as he is forever humble.
“This is fun,” he went on. “Going to the ballpark wasn’t anymore. That’s why I did what I did when I did. Money has never been a priority with me. We had things on the right track with the Cubs last year and, yeah, it brought me down a little when I found out my vote didn’t count. I was for keeping Jim Lefebvre as manager. He was fired. The other stuff, the rumors about there being something personal to my retiring, that’s not true.”
And one other thing.
“For a caddie,” said Sandberg, “it must be the shoulders that go first. I know I dropped that ball. But it’s not the hands that go first. That bag? It’s heavy.”
When it’s time, does the rake go to Cooperstown, too?
