From the Dashboard:

of Mark Huber:


Mark Huber is a professional caddy currently working on the PGA Tour's Champions golf tour for Jim Roy.   He's been caddying on the PGA Tour since 1988 and worked for over 70 different players on every tour over the years.   His main bags were Bob Murphy, Doug Tewell, Raymond Floyd, Larry Rinker, Greg Twiggs, and Robert Gamez.  He's also 'looped' for Tom Watson, Curtis Strange, and Larry Nelson to name a notable few, plus countless other players on the PGA, Nationwide, LPGA, and Champions golf tours.   Mark has accumulated twenty wins and countless experiences during his tour caddy career and you can read more from Mark by clicking here at -  Mark's Kaddy Korner. 

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This 'Caddies Dashboard' story was written  
- 'From the Dashboard' of tour caddy Mark Huber!


                                                                                        
                                                                                             
                                                                 
 Mark Huber 03/04/14
                                                           
                        '2014 Kaddy Korner Ace Group Classic, Naples, FL:
  

I deeply apologize but I've been out of touch with the Internet since February 16th, the last day of our Naples Ace Group Classic. And honestly, I'm tired of sending missives about crappy golf and last place finishes. It was another low finish but there were a few flashes of professional golf, if we can get the driver pointed in the right direction our last few events should be profitable.

My buddy Bruce Young took us fishing off Marco Island Tuesday before the tournament, there were two pro-am days, we needed to get our minds right. We caught all sorts of things; mangroves, a buzz, an anchor rope, a few fish, and enjoyed an ideal fishing day with good friends. The weather was perfect, the stories well told. Bruce knows little about golf and Andrew can fish a bit, they got along great, except Bruce kept calling him Andy which my pro hates. Oh well, you have to give your fishing guides a bit of slack.

Two pro-ams is to much but we slogged through them. We were both a bit sluggish the day after our fishing trip, luckily we played late. Andrew couldn't talk enough about the trip, likewise with Bruce. Often, no pretty much all the time, professional athletes (yes, golfers are athletes) sit on a pedestal and we don't realize they're life away from the arena simulates ours. You put shorts, sandals, towel wrapped neck and a beer in a golf pro's hand he looks, and acts, like anyone fishing a Wisconsin lake or river.

Right now I'm sitting in the Livingston Motel in Livingston, MT on my way to Couer D' Alenes, ID to visit my brother. The mountains are staring at me and there's a sign in the parking lot, "Horses Welcome, Stalls Available". A couple days here would be wonderful, it's starting to warm up and thaw out, but I gotta keep moving. The warm weather is heading your way Midwest, it should be there this weekend, hang in there.

The last two weeks I've been dodging storms, visiting friends, plowing driveways, baby-sitting a propane dry lake house, stopped briefly at the Birkebeiner, tried to get into my cabin and started cleaning out Mom's house in Havana.

I jumped in Mom's old Mercury the day after the Ace Classic, bee-lined to Milwaukee, picked up Zach and headed for Eau Claire. My old body revolts during these long hauls, the sleep over in the truck stop north of Louisville didn't help, and it was nice to hit Scott and Katie's guest room a few days while the storm blew through. For two weeks I never spent more than 2-3 days in any one spot, the "old Merc" got a work out and "Lil Earl" gave her the seal of approval for the trip west.

The cabin is still impenetrable so Zach and I snow-shoed into Jamie's, about a mile into the woods. My legs are short and stubby but Zach has more trouble plowing through five foot drifts, he eventually smartened up and stayed on my heels. You folks up north deserve honors, it's been a horrendous winter and most everyone is still smiling while helping one another burrow out from another storm in sub-zero weather. I have to show my golf crew pictures, they can't comprehend while strolling sunny fairways in shorts and golf shirts.

We lost one more good buddy from the caddy ranks. Mike Boyce (his original nickname was "Shitty" but he shed the moniker) passed away last week. He caddied in San Antonio last October, was diagnosed with cancer late December and went to join Boats, Bruce, Brian, Reptile, Boo, among others in heaven's caddy shack. "Mikey" spoke his mind but had no enemies, he was one of my daughter's favorites, and he took me under his wing early in my caddy career.

1989 I'm working for Tom Purtzer, best swing on tour but a real tough one to work for, at the Colonial in Ft. Worth and paired with Dr. Gil and Mike on windy, blustery day. Long story short "Purtz" keeps hitting up-shooters falling way short of the target and blaming all on me or the yardage, never his fault. On the 13th tee, a difficult par three over water into the wind, we're discussing 7I and I say, "It's perfect, as long as it doesn't upshoot!". Wrong thing to say and Tom went ballistic, I was a rookie and needed some training.

After the round Mike put his arm around me, "Tell him to keep it under the wind next time, he won't go dancing around the tee box yelling and screaming at you." The rest of the year when it was windy Mike would yell across fairways "keep it under the wind rook". He kept it our secret but I told him what goes around comes around.

The next year at Harbor Town we're making the turn from 18 to 1, Mike hands the driver to "Doc" and heads for an emergency pit stop in the blue room. It took longer than usual and Mike hurriedly gathered his yardage for "Doc's" second shot as he was buckling his pants. Gil was posing as his Titliest kept rising over the first green. "Uh-oh", a bad number and everyone knew it. Before flying O.B. it struck a thin pine behind the green dead center and caromed to the putting surface. Mike was sheepishly complaining when they missed the birdie putt.

The caddy yard ain't gonna be the same, Mike had no problem verbally abusing anyone. An avid Philly sports fan, we'd talk baseball till our pros showed up. We fished the Brule  and had a few cocktails at Mellen CC; he loved the Wisconsin summers and fishing for peacock bass behind his Florida home, where his ashes will be buried. He started caddying in the 70's when 4-5 guys shared Motel 6 rooms with no money. He loved golf, life, his friends and his fishing; we're gonna miss him.

We've all lost loved ones the last few years, keep them close to your heart because they're definitely a part of your soul.

Take care. I'm heading west, there's a tournament in Newport Beach next week but I'm detouring through Idaho and San Jose this week.

.
 
                                                                                     Take Care,
                                                                                                        Mark


                                                                           

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