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Tom Watson's beloved caddy, Bruce Edwards.

In other seasons, it's not something to talk about, but in the heat of July, I played golf for three consecutive days from Friday the 1st to Thursday the 3rd.

For the last few years, I have avoided playing golf in the heat of 35 ° C and above and in high humidity.

After graduating from agony golf, the flight distance has gradually increased, and the results of the approach I have been working on for 13 years are gradually beginning to appear.

I'm regaining my golf fever, like when I was young when I started playing golf.

I gradually faded out during the agony era and went to the golf course less often.

Even so, I haven't played golf for a week, but there is no month when I don't play golf again.

With Korona-ka, I started doing some things I could while at home, so I took the time to do it.

It seems that my favourite golf fever has risen again so much that I want to overcome my agony and stop it.

Of the three consecutive golf days this time, I had Caddy follow me for two days.

Caddy's role gives appropriate advice when you are uncertain about your judgment.

Isn't it more important to get an opinion after thinking through the eyes of a person different from yourself, rather than whether Caddy's judgment is appropriate?

Having Caddy hear an excuse, such as when I make a mistake, will alleviate my unpleasant mood.

While playing golf this weekend, I sometimes remembered Tom Watson and his ally Bruce Edwards.


Tom Watson had a fateful encounter with a legendary caddy when he was 24 years old in July 1973.

When Tom entered the tournament in July, he hadn't decided on his caddy yet.

After getting out of the car at the parking lot, Tom headed to the clubhouse alone, carrying a large club bag for the tour.

At that time, a young man with long hair walked up to Tom and

"My name is Bruce Edwards. I'm going to be a caddy for a year. If you like, could you carry your bag this week?"

After Tom took his bag off his shoulder and asked some simple questions,

"Okay, let's do that. For the time being, this week."

When the two met, Tom was 24 years old and in his second year as a professional. Bruce was 18 years old, not even an adult.

Tom immediately went to the practice area and practised for three hours.

Bruce, who had to keep watching my practice in the sweltering heat, said, "Is it a three-hour practice under the scorching sun of 40 degrees? It is also a penance from the beginning." That's right.

When I played golf for three days in a row in the sweltering heat last weekend, the image of Tom and Bruce's encounter at that time came to my mind.

Bruce was like a man born to be a caddy.

Born in Connecticut, he was in and out of the local golf club Wethersfield before and after junior high school, partly due to his father, a golf enthusiast.

At that time, a tournament called the Greater Hartford Open was held here. On the spot, Bruce carried a professional Dick Lots bag for sale, despite being 13 years old.

It is the beginning of his caddy life.

Since then, he has set his lifelong goal to be a professional caddy.

After graduating high school, he visited professional match venues looking for a job.

Tom appeared by chance in front of such a blues.

Tom finished 6th in this first duo match.

After that match, Bruce asked, "Can you do your caddy for the rest of the year?"

Tom immediately gave Bruce the key to Buick with his golf bag and told him:

"See you on Tuesday in Montreal."

Tom's promise of "for the time being, a week" will continue for many years.

Bruce was a man who was born to be a caddy. From the bottom of his heart, he was focused on being a caddy.

For him, this job wasn't part-time; it was all of his life.

He was always cautious. Anyway, it's severe and accurate.

Bruce has always remembered the spirit of humour.

With a unique sense of humour, Bruce repeatedly pushed away from the pressure Tom felt during the match.

Bruce knew how to do that.

For example, when Tom missed a shot and was depressed, he pulled Tom's ass and regained his spirit, calling out "Cammon."

Bruce has always had leeway in his heart. He has always been positive. But, by no means did he become negative.

When Tom asked something, Bruce always answered head-on.

Tom asks a question, and Bruce answers sincerely.

When he couldn't find the answer, Bruce honestly said, "I don't know." "The answer is one in two."

When he was young, Tom rarely sought Bruce's advice. What club should he get? Where does my ball start to bend on the green? Tom thought about all that and decided for himself.

However, Bruce was so good at reading the green that Tom often listened to Bruce's advice after entering what is known as a veteran.


Today, many top professionals have contracts with their professional caddies.

However, when Bruce became Tom's caddy, many golf courses did not yet allow caddies.

Bruce Edwards pioneered modern golf, creating a professional caddy image.

From a coaching point of view

Bruce can be said to be the one who found the goal he wanted to do at the age of 18, expanded his image in an era when there was no apparent work category of the professional caddy, and finally reached that goal.

In the mid-1980s, Tom was somehow abandoned by the winning stars. He fell to 39th place on the PGA Tour in 1988.

The income earned by a professional caddy is determined by the total prize money earned by the accompanying professional.

It means that if Tom moves away from victory and reduces the number of games played, it will affect the income of his buddy Bruce Edwards.

"If you have a chance, if you have the opportunity to make more money than you are with me, don't hesitate to choose it."

One day Tom confided to Bruce:

At that time, Bruce was getting a lot of voices from professionals other than Tom.

Eventually, Bruce decided to leave Tom and fight the world as Greg Norman's companion caddy.

It was early summer 1989. So the 16 years combination of Tom and Bruce, since they met in 1973, will be resolved once.


In the late 1980s, Bruce Edwards fought with Greg Norman, the world's number one at the time, to secure his position as a leading professional caddy.

On the morning of Tom's 43rd birthday in 1992, Bruce called me to celebrate his birthday for the first time in a while.

And that night, Bruce called once.

Tom asked the blues, "Is this a birthday call, or are you looking for a job?"

Bruce immediately answered, "Yes, I'm looking for it."

At that time, Tom was in the worst slump.

Tom said he sometimes didn't hold a golf club for three months. Then, he swings the club again, and if he doesn't feel well, he puts the club back again. He managed to get out of the slumping maze as he continued to do.

Regaining Bruce's companion is like putting on worn-out, comfortable shoes. Tom says.

In the fall of 1992, the place of their memorable rematch was the Dunlop Phoenix Tournament in Miyazaki Prefecture, Japan.

Tom noticed the incident of his beloved friend nearly a year before he was sentenced to his condition.

He spoke in a drunken tone that didn't turn around.

In October 2002, Bruce's mysterious behaviour aroused Tom's anxiety.

He picked up the ball on the green and shot it lightly at the blues as usual, and he couldn't grab it.

When Bruce said, "Somehow, my hands are strange," Tom felt unpleasant.

In January 2003, Bruce's disease was found to be an intractable disease called ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), also known as "Lou Gehrig's disease". The doctor's diagnosis was that his life expectancy was 1-3 years.

Bruce died shortly after seeing Tom win the US Open.

There are many good stories in the history of golf.

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