GOLF BOOK CLUB: Four-Iron in the SoulBy Lawrence Donegan
IT DOESN’T matter how Lawrence Donegan, one-time bass guitarist turned golf journalist and author, got to caddie for Ross Drummond. What matters is that he did, and turned a good idea into a very fine book. Even now, some 13 years after the fact, the book is one of the most readable and insightful into the sport. Timeless, in fact.
Donegan is wry and self-deprecating in how he describes his bag carrying for one of golf’s then journeyman. But he obviously did something right, as the 1996 season proved to be Drummond’s most successful regular season on the European Tour.
Be that as it may, this book is a witty and well-written account of Donegan’s year on tour.
These days, Donegan is the golf correspondent for the Guardian, but, back then, he'd had some success on the music scene (bass guitarist with Lloyd Cole and the Commotions and then with the Bluebells) before moving into the world of journalism.
Caddies are a special breed. It takes a sense of adventure and a willingness to play servant to be good at it.
Although Donegan’s and Drummond’s relationship was to end before the season did – the straw that broke the camel’s back came for the player in the British Masters when caddie informed master that there was no room in the bag after the player had taken off his jumper – it is to the author’s credit that he not only infiltrated the caddie shack but was more often than not accepted by other caddies.
But this is more than a simple recollection of Donegan’s time with Drummond. It goes beyond that, giving the reader an awareness of golf’s rules and an insight into how players – and caddies – live life on tour.
One of the more interesting observations comes in relation to cheating on the course.
Not that such a thing could ever be levelled at Drummond, whose idea of cheating, according to Donegan, was to wear a shirt and trousers that didn’t colour co-ordinate.
A helpful hint from Donegan? “If you ever find yourself trapped at a party with a boring golf pro, accuse him of cheating. He will never talk to you again.”
Although he was once a professional musician, this book was the closest that Donegan got to being a professional sportsman which had been his dream growing up in Glasgow.
After all, here’s a man who had been to the same school as Brian McClair – you know, one-time Manchester United and Scotland footballer – and his own assessment that he was “crap at golf and past it at football” didn’t, he believed, create any hindrance to toting a bag around golf courses.
By his admission, Donegan was more bag-carrier. However, there was the occasion under the glare of the TV cameras where Donegan forfeited this role as his man lurched into contention in a tournament and the caddie convinced the player what club to play. That Drummond ended up plugged beyond the green in a bunker showed the folly of such enthusiasm.
It’s good that Donegan didn’t land a glamour bag, which is what the real caddies want.
Getting the bag of a journeyman proved much better for the book. If Drummond was somewhat reluctant initially, the relationship – strained as it was by the end – provides good and witty material and a refreshing insight (even after all these years) into life on the tour.
Questions for readers
Do you believe Donegan manages to convince the reader that life on tour isn’t as glamorous as it is may be made out?
Did you get an understanding from the book of what it takes to play professional sport at the top level?
Would this book encourage you to make a career-changing decision?
At what stage does the relationship between caddie and player start to fall apart?
How do you rate this book out of a possible top mark of 10? *
