Best stories from working at a golf course


Ok here is my first official post. I hope it isn’t too long. but y’all might enjoy it.

So I’ve never worked AT a golf course but I think this story fits in.

In my previous life I worked as a police officer and was assigned to a patrol area that included Sherwood Country Club, I was young and basically a rookie cop. I responded to a “theft” call and when I arrived the guard at the gate tells me that the “ dudes who called are waiting in the parking lot “ he actually said dudes, I’ll never forget it.

At this point I think I’ll just use initials to describe the involved parties. As I drive in I see 3 men standing near a Ferrari, a Lambo and a range rover in the parking lot waving me over to them. Immediately I recognized MJ the 6’6 basketball great with the 8 inch cigar, and WG the the hockey great, and the 3rd I come to realize is Mario L another hockey great. They are really in good moods except for WG who seems kinda upset. WG tells me that while he and the other 2 were out playing a round of golf someone broke into his locker in the clubhouse and stole some items that included his wedding ring. We all walk inside and into the locker room and sure enough there was clear evidence that someone pried open WG’s locker !

MJ and ML are saying the entire time that WG is making the story up so as not to pay off his golf bet. They are really giving WG a hard time joking and cracking wise and poking him relentlessly.

These 3 just sorta sit around the locker room asking me questions and mostly cracking jokes on each other as I dust the locker for prints, and do my best CSI Westlake Village impression.

So I get down to the point where I’m asking WG the specifics of what was stolen. he says: my wedding ring Me : describe it WG : gold ME : value ? WG : I dunno maybe $500. I’ll never forget that he said his wife was gonna kill him cuz she didn’t know he took it off. Next he says his leather jacket was stolen. Same process - value ? $250 he thinks . At this point MJ and ML say “man tell him about our money” ! WG says “ oh yeah I had a box that contained my golf gambling money” Me: what kinda box? WG : wood blah blah blah I then ask "So how much cash was in the box " ? WG “ohhh, I dunno about $60,000.00 ………

To this day I just remember standing there trying to act like he didn’t just say 60k! As if I had heard of someone having more money in their golf locker than I made in a year!
Nowadays I play Sherwood quite a bit and I think of that incident every single time I enter the property.


Working at a club in the greater Chicagoland area, I was helping out in the bar/restaurant after looping 18 holes on a gloomy day. My loop for the day was already a few BEvERages into the afternoon, when he started asking for shots for himself and the two guys next to him.

In the middle of a fairly heated debate between the three, the member I was caddying for earlier that day had insisted on proving to his peers that he was a former All-Conference Big Ten gymnast. Somewhere in his late 30’s, he walks to the far corner of the room with his eyes set on a couch located near the front of the bar/restaurant. Running full speed (still in spikes), he cartwheels over the arm of the sofa and stomps his landing on one of the cushions. Gratuitously intoxicated, his momentum carries him over the back of the sofa and into two lamps that are perched on a table just behind this “waiting area” couch.

Not only has be just broken two lamps, but he has ripped a decent sized hole in the couch cushion. He stands up, collects himself, walks over to one of the restaurant staff people, hands them a wad of c-notes and leaves.


Late summer afternoon, there was a wedding happening in the restaurant/bar area. Main doors were locked once the wedding was being set up so people had to come in the side door of the Pro Shop. The kitchen was working since we couldn’t have people walking through the kitchen, we were taking orders and walking them to the kitchen. I was working the night before during the rehearsal and had heard the bride and groom say they had a surprise for their parents during the ceremony tomorrow. The wedding has started and after taking an order and walking into the kitchen I catch of glimpse the “surprise”. The minister was also an Elvis impersonator. He married them dressed as Elvis. A little later in the evening, I see the bride’s father signing the marriage certificate and handing a wad of cash to the minister Elvis.


Still work at a family oriented course in Columbus, Ohio. The owner is in his 90’s and most every night once leagues have been sent off he summons the cart boys to run and get him dinner (80% of the time its pizza). Last summer me and my buddy started ordering extra sauce on the pizza and ever since the owner always makes a mess down the front of his shirt and always complains about too much sauce on the pizza.


I worked at one of the more elite clubs in the Denver area growing up, starting as a caddy and ending up in the bag room. I’ve got a couple of decent stories.

  1. When I was a caddy, we had a caddy day straight out of Bushwood, caddy tournament in the morning, for a decent scholarship and then access to the pool for the rest of the day. The pool was pretty sweet with a 1m and 3m diving board. I was 14 at the time and talked a big game, like really talked it up, telling one of the assistant pros that I was going to do a double gainer off the 3m board earlier in the previous week. Now, I am deathly afraid of afraid of heights, and by the time the caddy day came around I was secretly hoping no-one would remember. Of course the assistant pro did. He ended up betting me that I wouldn’t do it, if I did, he would go in, fully clothed, he had a couple of drinks in him, thinking that noone of importance would be at the club that day, it was a Monday. Ended up swallowing my pride and going for it. He held up his end of the bargain as well, and just as he did the head pro walked up to the pool deck (wasn’t supposed to be at the club). Assistant was suspended for a couple of days, and I thought that I wouldn’t ever be let back on the property.

  2. Same club a couple of years later, I was working in the bag room and cart barn. This club has an ice rink, and the machinery and chemicals for the ice rink. It was late in the evening and I was closing up so I was flying around in carts trying to get them in the barn and and plugged in so I could go home. Well, I had prepped bags for the first few groups the next morning and locked up the bag room, and was running the last cart down to the barn where where my bike was to get home. As I flew into the barn, an overwhelming odor of ammonia hit me. It was like running into a brick wall, my eyes swelled shut, and vomitted almost immediately. I threw the cart in reverse, and flew backwards out of the barn right into a member’s brand new Mercedes SUV. I fell out of the cart coughing and throwing up. Apparently one of the ammonia tanks for the ice rink had sprung a leak while I was finishing up in the bag room. The member was a doctor and ended up checking me out, and I was ok, but they had to bring a hazmat company in to clean up the leak and cart barn before anyone was allowed in there.


Ammonia is no joke…glad that you are okay…a number of people have died from inhalation.


Truly fantastic thread, been reading over the last few days to keep the mood up. So thought I would toss in my own story. Sorry for the length on this one.

My cousin was a member at a club was a good player and helped get me a job in the back, he played golf with a small group of good players and they played for a decent amount of cash, but nothing crazy. One of their group left on a 2 month trip and so they needed a guy to fill in, I got asked as my cousin knew I could hang in there golf wise, problem was I was working at a golf course and didn’t always have that kinda money. I let my cousin know it and he said he would cover me if that ever happened after all he knew where I worked, haha. So despite risking all my university money, I decided to play. Tuesday morning first thing we played and then I would work Ladies night and hopefully recoup any losses in tips.

One of the group was a former NHL player that had an on ice reputation for being a little mean, and he was a big guy and still in great shape (maybe 10 years removed from the NHL), and my first round playing with the group I get to play with this former player. I’d met him a couple times as I worked there but he didn’t know me from a hole in the wall. My cousin taps me on the shoulder on the first tee and whispers to me “Play well (we were on a team) but just don’t make eagle on the guy” as I look at him blankly. We then walk over and they talk the 4 or 5 games we are going to play and as we pull drivers out, he gives me a very serious look “seriously, no eagles.” I ask him why and he says nothing, plugs his ball in the ground and rips one down the middle. I am not a long player so I don’t make a lot of eagles so I don’t think much of it.

We get to 17 (long par 5) and I proceed to try and hit a fade and hit it straight, it hits the carts path twice and end up 80 yards up in the middle of this oddly winding fairway. I haven’t asked all day and not really sure how we are doing as a team, I have heard the word press a lot and I figure we are up a bit as I am a couple over and my cousin i thought was 1 under, but not really sure. I hit a good 4 wood on to the green (because of the contours we don’t know if its close or not) and as I walk over to the cart my cousin looks my dead in the eye and says “don’t make it.” I ask why but he just shakes his head like its the most obvious thing in the world. As I line up my putt I start getting a little nervous as the former player is walking around kinda funny, I glance at my cousin and he gives me just the slightest nod, like “lag it up there but DONT make it”

I make the putt and as I go to pick the ball out of the cup I get hoisted in the air and the former NHL player and we tumble down the slope beside the green. He ends up on top of me with his fist above his head and says “you make eagle on me you little shit” but as he says it he loosed character and starts laughing, never even for the phrase fully out, hops off me and helps me up laughing the whole time. I am just lucky I didn’t piss myself. Turns to my cousin who is laughing his a$$ off on the ground and says “been what 5 years since we have got to pull that off.” The 4th is the group who was more of a serious guy by nature waits to the commotion to die down looks square at my cousin once he has gathered himself, and just says “press.”

After the round I clean all the clubs and the carts to help out the ladies/gents that I work with and the former NHL player is waiting for me by the club storage room. Asked me if I was ok (for about the 10th time in 15 min) and tells me despite us winning he has the bill for lunch and proceeded to tip me a crazy amount the rest of the year.

I reached out to him about 7 years later through my cousin and asked if he would be willing to help me with some hockey stuff. I was a coach and was hoping he could take 30 min and talk to the boys which we arranged after practice. He showed up before practice with 2 other former players, gear and all and they promptly tell me they will be running the practice and I had the night off, they got signed stuff for all the kids and tickets to the game the next day for everyone and arranged for the kids to see the dressing room and stuff, was awesome. But he turns to the other 2 players as we are putting our skates on and says “that’s the last guy I got to pull that eagle prank on!” which they promptly told him “you are too old for that nowadays” but I can say he sure looked young on the ice. Fantastic guy and I was in his phone as “Last Eagle Boy” and he helped me with a couple more hockey things throughout the year and we play golf once a year with my cousin and its always a blast.


Yeah, it turned into a pretty serious deal. I filled out a bunch of paperwork and everything way back then. It’s approaching 20 years ago at this point, and I don’t think I’ve got any long term effects. The doctor who’s car I hit with the golf cart was furious at first, until he saw me on the ground as sick as I was. I can’t remember how long they had the cart barn shut down. To this day I can’t even smell ammonia without getting queasy.


jesus christ dude…


Caddied at a club with a pretty famous/nervewracking opening tee shot. It was caddie appreciation day near the end of the season where we all got to play the course, and one of the caddies, in classic looper fashion, was talking shit about how low he was gonna shoot etc. He then walks up to the first tee all cocky in front of about 30 caddies/employees and proceeds to pull hook the shit out of his drive (I’ve still never seen such a severe hook) and ends up shattering a window of the famed clubhouse. We absolutely lost it and he hasn’t shown his face around there in quite some time…


Two days ago I was hitting balls on my break and two older guys next to me were hitting. One was teaching his buddy how to play and suggested stacking and tilting explaining that it was the technique Jack Nicholas used when he played…


So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas.A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I’m a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald… striking. So, I’m on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one – big hitter, the Lama – long, into a ten-thousand foot crevice, right at the base of this glacier. And do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga…gunga – gunga lagunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he’s gonna stiff me. And I say, “Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.” So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.


Interesting…really surprised he didn’t go with the 7-4-7 method…


wonder where this was…


Caddied for Ditka’s wife at Evanston Golf Club in Skokie, IL in the early 90’s. She flies up to the club entrance in a Dodge Viper. I said, “Mrs. Ditka, that’s a pretty sweet ride.” She replied without missing a beat, “It helps me deal with menopause.” Hilarious. Great lady, and 125% tip on the loop as well.


Great story - are you referring to Zapolski and JC Martin in this case?


Touching. God bless Saul… This post is what it’s all about.


For those who know their golf geography you might be able to figure out the course but I won’t say it outright. Couple summers ago working at a top 15 golf course on a small island amid the long island sound :shushing_face:… member returns from the mainland to the play golf on the island, goes to drop her clubs off but the only thing in her trunk is a brand new gas grill. It was then that she realized her clubs were left sitting in the parking lot of a home depot :sweat_smile:


What’s a fish with no eyes? fshhhhers island


Mid-1980s, exclusive club on the North Shore of Chicago. The second hole forecaddy spot, about midway down the fairway, was also about 50 yards from the 11th hole, which happened to be having its pond dredged. Instead of tossing the muck, however, the club was piling it into mounds for future berms. One of the largest dredge piles was but 10 yards from the aforementioned forecaddy spot. Unbearable smell in the summer heat. Anyway, because of recent heavy rains the caddies were told to stay the hell off the mounds because sinking was a real danger. Not sure if the members were given the same warning but you’d figure mature adults would just assume this. Looper carrying the trunk of a very old man (and notorious pain in the ass) watches said golfer drop a shot atop the mound of gunk. Golfer asks the caddy to retrieve the ball. Caddy explains he’s been told by management to stay off the thing. Old Man won’t hear of it because, heck, that’s a 50-cent Pinnacle up there. Climbs up the mound himself and, not 10 feet in, sinks to his waist into the goo. Caddy is dispatched to rescue the old man. He too sinks to his waist. Another caddy in the group is sent back to the cart barn to raise the alarm. Caddymaster, rack-room staff and the starter drive out to the hole armed with a rope. They toss the rope to the old man, have him loop it around his chest and spend the next 5 minutes tugging him free. (For a visual, check out this scene from “Raising Arizona”: The old man finally reaches the grass and lays down huffing and puffing. It’s then we realize he’s no longer wearing shoes or pants. Apparently the mud’s suction was so great, they remained behind. Caddy was eventually freed, too, but that was a much lower priority.