When the US presidential elections were reaching a crucial stage, there was an important selection issue brewing in the European locker-room: who was going to be Paul Lawrie's third caddie in as many weeks?

Looking into the way these things happen in modern professional golf, it appears that finding a new caddie is an extremely complex matter. "Super Tuesday" took on a new meaning a few weeks back as jostling began for the Lawrie porter position. When news breaks in the caddie shack that a bag is open there are immediate moves made to get on that bag. When it is the holder of the claret jug in question, well, there is likely to be a stampede. With world events and majors and all the spoils that the US has to offer, there is a sense of opportunity for toters currently on modest bags.

One caddie thought he had timed his call perfectly to be the first to reach Lawrie at his hotel in California the day that he and his old bag handler parted company. By the time he left his message a queue of callers had already offered their Sherpa services.

I had arrived back in London from New Zealand to receive a garbled message through another Irish caddie working for Shigeki Maruyama in the US that my name had been mentioned in passing by the Lawrie camp. Adam Hunter, Lawrie's coach and close adviser, wanted me to get in touch with him.

I was, at the time, concerned with more immediate matters, such as trying to figure out what day it was, then secure a visa and an air ticket for the two tournaments in the Middle East. I was interested in the prospect of working for the British Open champion, but I hadn't really got time to consider the matter in detail until I had sorted out my travel plans.

The ethics that used to guide caddie/player selection have changed dramatically. I would say the 1990s brought with it a new attitude, which was that any caddie is fair game if a player feels that he wants him/her to caddie for him.

Andy Prodger, who had caddied for Nick Faldo for over five years, capturing with him two major titles, was pushed aside from the Faldo camp with little explanation. Andy suggested one day to Faldo's handlers that it would be nice if Nick managed a smile once in a while: from that moment he recognised a change in attitude.

How dare he suggest that his boss should display anything other than intensity on the course?

Andy reckoned that from that moment of bold suggestion the search for his successor had begun. He believes "the handlers", not the player, chose Andy's replacement. Fanny succeeded Andy, and ironically Faldo tried to change his public image, resulting in a pathetic attempt to sing My Way after he won the Open at St Andrews in 1990.

It seemed that the caddie now had to appeal more to the advisers and handlers than to the player. Meetings with managers, CVs, contracts and all the trappings of modern executive roles have become commonplace. The days of picking up a good bag in the car park on Tuesday morning seem to be over.

The most important factor, lest we forget, is the relationship between the caddie and the player - not that between the caddie and an entourage of advisers.

The caddie, of course, is not entirely innocent in contributing to this shift in ethics. It is not uncommon for players to receive phone calls from cads in the off-season hopeful that they might be persuaded to try someone new. All this goes on while the player already has a caddie.

So as I move into a trial period on my new bag I look forward to developing a good working relationship with my new boss Paul Lawrie. I am hoping to stick to caddying basics, which I believe are good preparation, understanding and decisiveness.

I hope it is as simple as that.