From the 'Dashboard':
of Mark Huber:


Mark Huber is a professional caddy currently working on the PGA Tour's Champions golf tour for Bob Gilder.   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. 

More Dashboard 'Kaddy Korner' stories from Mark Huber:
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
*Also Read these Caddies Dashboard stories by
Randall Watts:
 
Week of 00/00/00
 
Week of 00/00/00
 
Week of 00/00/00
 


The Caddies Dashboard continues here in 2011  
- This Week's featured caddy story is - 'from the Dashboard' of:


                                                                                        
                                                                                                                                                                                            Mark Huber 10/17/11
                                                           
         'Kaddy Korner: Insperity Houston to AT & T San Antonio' final weeks
:
  
  

There was no thinking time from Houston to San Antonio, the sheets of rain and forty mile an hour winds crossing I-10 made relaxing impossible and listening to the Brewers beat the Cards enjoyably difficult. This was going to be a good week for not thinking and only playing golf. After our lackluster performance in Houston we slipped to 31st on the money list, $4,300 behind Tom Pernice and we needed a solid week. I really wasn’t looking at the numbers but everyone else was reminding us about the battle within the tournament.

Bob played in the Monday pro-am but gave me the day off and he took Tuesday off while I walked the course that morning. A little rest this time of year is key and San Antonio is the perfect place for a little R & R, the Riverwalk on a late Saturday afternoon, a few honky-tonks serving up chicken fried steak and my old buddy Brian who’s always ready for playoff baseball, live music at Gruene Hall or anywhere and cold beers along the Guadalupe River.

Only trouble is my favorite haunt, Specht’s General Store, established in the 1890’s north of San Antonio in the middle of nowhere isn’t serving discounted buckets of MGD and delicious homemade chicken fried steak mounded with mashed potatoes and gravy spilling over the sides of your plate. The new ownership has settled for a petite store bought breaded chicken cutlet with a little gravy, French fries, and some fresh steamed vegetables. Things change, it’s tough when folks break with tradition, I was looking forward to my annual C-F-S, and hopefully this wasn’t an omen for the weekend.

We moved from an old classic course, Oak Hills to a new J.W. Marriot TPC resort course designed by Bruce Lietzke and Pete Dye. I was looking for a new friend so I took my time charting every nuance of the wide-open fairways surrounded by rocky desert, gnarly live oak trees, cactus and diabolical traps. The greens were severely mounded and sloped in every direction, if you missed a shot on the wrong side you ended up 40-50 feet off the green. I spent about 5 hours walking the course and then fine tuned things during our two pro-ams.

My yardage book notes needed a little fine tuning but our amateur partners needed a lot more. We hooked up Wednesday with a foursome of bar owners, damn I hate that, but we survived. They were a bit rusty until “Gilly” pulled out his large plastic bottle of “brown water”. It mixed well with coke and the putts fell after that. If you see a Sherlock’s Baker Street Pub & Grill, stop in, they play mediocre golf but have a great time, BogeyPro type folks.

Our golf Friday wasn’t any better than Specht’s chicken cutlet Wednesday night. Paired with Tom Pernice and D.A. Weibring we fired a smooth 75, lucky thing was Pernice shot one also. Tom’s caddy, “Handlebar Rick” nudged me on the 15th green, whispered, “I don’t think either of our boys want to go to San Francisco.” We were the third group off early Saturday morning and needed a real good round; I was thinking 65 all night.

Tom Randall holds, “Church on the Move”, Champions Tour Fellowship most Friday evenings and we needed some positive energy. Wendy’s 14 year old Golden Retriever passed away Thursday, I was still recovering from the Specht’s debacle plus our 75 and Bob needed a bunch of birdies Saturday, uplifting moments come from strange places and people. Sitting at the table by myself a stranger in a red ball cap made a beeline for me; I tried to place him from my past but had no idea who he was.

He caddied for Tom Lehman once 20 years ago and placed a handful of meteorites on the table. I never caught his name but he gave a spiel about their positive energy, the rocks’ history and how they could enhance our lives. He passed them around to Wendy, Peggy and Bob, they rolled the rocks in their hands claiming to feel the energy but Bob’s eyes were rolling at the same time. After he shot 65 Saturday he wanted to load his golf bag with the meteorites.

If we could bottle it we’d make millions, you never know how to trigger “the Zone”. The great ones find it more often but they have no handle on it, no one does. Bob shot the easiest 65 Saturday without prodding, without getting upset but not without a bogey. Trouble was Pernice shot a 64 after he drove the par 4 seventeenth, sunk a six-footer for eagle then dribbled in a birdie putt on 18. If the last putt doesn’t fall we’d have been paired again on Sunday making for dramatic TV coverage. Freddie was running away with the tournament, according to most players and caddies we were the only excitement left and there were a lot of folks pulling for us.

Instead, we were paired with D.A. again and Bernhard Langer. Both are great guys, D.A. and I went to ISU together, but they are very deliberate players. Take that back, Langer is !@#$%^& slow, it’s borderline rude and fast players like Bob can’t handle the pace of play. Your rhythm and your game suffer. We’ve tried everything, jokes while slow players deliberate their shots, I sing him songs; tell stories, talk politics, sports, religion or point out pretty women and natural wild life around the course, nothing seems to work and by the turn he’s so worked up about slow play bogies creep into our game.

Playing at a nice pace Tom Pernice quietly snuck up the leader board about three holes behind us. We couldn’t keep up with the group in front of us, birdied the first hole, bogied the par 5 second hole, the ninth and doubled the tenth at a snail’s pace. It was very frustrating; we ended our season with a tap-in birdie on 18 and said our good-byes on the Marriott elevator after cleaning out his locker. He thanked me for all my support, looked forward to Hawaii in January and having knee surgery soon to soothe the chronic pain. It was a good year but it felt hollow at the moment.

The three cold draft Victorias at Lupe’s Tortilla Cantina waiting for Wendy didn’t help ease the pain but while driving to Austin the Vegas Indy car crash news put things in perspective. We’re still playing golf; Dan Wheldon’s family is without a parent and a husband. The racing world lost a great human being. We think there’s a lot of tragedy in golf, it’s still a game and we’re very lucky to be playing at this level.


                                                                                               Take Care,

                                                                                                        Mark

 

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