They buried Peter Maguire last weekend, after 50 years of caddying and odd-jobbing at Portmarnock GC. And his passing was marked by a large turn-out, including the club captain, Vincent Sex, who delivered a warm tribute at the funeral Mass.

Much loved of the members, Peter was the source of some marvellous stories. Like the one about the American visitor who, pointing to the pond on the short seventh, inquired: "Peter, is that casual water?" To which the caddie replied: "Oh no sir. There's no f***ing way you can drink that water."

Then there was another visitor who, after being instructed by Peter to slide his sandwedge under the ball, made several vain attempts at extricating it from the cavernous bunker fronting the sixth green. Exasperated, the caddie demanded: "Give me the club." And when he, too, had smashed the ball into the face of the bunker, he remarked, without batting an eyelid: "That's what you're f****ing doing wrong."

During the 1950s, in the whole of his health, it was no trouble to Peter to carry two bags at weekends, so he was understandably miffed when a regular client turned up with a new-fangled caddiecar. On the fourth, after carving his approach into uncharted territory, the man with the wheels inquired: "Did you see that, Peter?" Whereupon the caddie turned directly to the caddie-car and repeated the question: "Did you see that?" The contraption didn't reappear.

He caddied for Joe Carr for more than 20 years. And placed on his coffin last weekend was a photograph of Peter standing beside JB in the full regalia of captain of the Royal and Ancient.