Dealt A Bad Hand

Come to think of it, maybe that's what's wrong with Fletch's eyes. Seen too much.

Maybe you know them. They go by names like Freight Train and Headache Red, Stovepipe and Schoolboy, First Baseman and Cotton Chopper. At Miami Springs Golf Course in Florida, you can still ask for John Cooper, who's been there since 1929 and will still ride the course with you in your cart. And you never know where you'll come across Moon Face, Creamy or Big Head. Or First and Third, so named for the odd way his eyes point.

There are not many of them anymore. A river of concrete has washed over America's golf courses, and carts wash down the river every day. Time was, all the great players started out as caddies. Only way you could learn the game. Ben Hogan was a caddie. So were Byron Nelson, Sam Snead, Lee Trevino and Arnold Palmer. America's Caddie, Bill Murray, carried at the Indian Hill Club in Winnetka, Ill. Bill Clinton caddied in the Hot Springs Open.

Twelve-year-old Johnny Miller used to give his player the putter on the 14th green at the Olympic Club in San Francisco and then sneak over to the great par-3 15th, where nobody could see him, and try to make a birdie with a driver he'd stowed away in the bushes. His swing got so good that one day, when he was 14, the players in one of his groups bet him he couldn't play the final four holes in two over using lefthanded clubs. He couldn't. He played them in one over.

Chi Chi Rodriguez used to take the 10 cents he earned for a loop in Puerto Rico, buy a loaf of bread, put beans in it and have lunch. Last year on the Senior PGA Tour, Rodriguez made $798,857.

Yeah, carts are easier. Carts never make mistakes. A cart doesn't clear its throat when you kick your Titleist back in-bounds. A cart doesn't sneeze during your backswing. But can a cart tell you what kind of tree you just hit merely by the sound? At the Pine Valley Golf Club in New Jersey, Big Rich can.

Smack.

"Uh-oh," says the insurance executive. "That's not coming back."

"Wait," says Big Rich. The ball is snap-hooking out of sight and into the woods, but if he listens for a moment, he may still be able to find it. "That sounded like it hit an oak," Big Rich says.

"How can you tell?"