Now I am not talking about the narcotic stuff here. I mean the line of a putt of course.
It is a huge thing for us and has the same quality to a caddie as say a beautiful movement would have to a master watchmaker, or a smooth motorway to a bloke who works for Tarmac. I mean we can get off on lines.
It can be a sublime thing to read a difficult putt. To watch your player hit the perfect stroke which follows the designated path and fall into the back of the hole. It is a bit like poetry, because it can be such a fine and nuanced and delicate thing. As one unsuitable word, can throw and give a whole different hue to a piece of writing, so can a slightly misread putt. The ’read’ is fundamental and an art form in itself. A putt can meander up and down and shimmy like a formula one racing car. It can suddenly slow down or accelerate, and indeed, it can even circumnavigate. It can follow the perfect celestial path across a green and hold us caddies in rapture and wonder.
However, the reading of a putt can be very difficult indeed. When I first started caddying I had nightmares about it. At the Castle in St Andrews it is a very tricky thing indeed, as the greens are so hard to read and can catch the best of us out.
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