It's self explanatory what golfers and players get-up-to during the daytime; they chase golf balls around the course or do divot duty on the range. So what happens when this is over?

The nocturnal habits of each player differs considerably from those of the caddie. The days of getting "plugged under the lip" of some bar are almost gone for the player. With cuts falling regularly at under-par and the standard of play reaching dizzier heights every year, it's difficult to perform at the level required with a hangover.

Evening entertainment is limited to dinner and maybe a digestive drink. This is not the case for the load lugger. Many will have observed the caddies lingering a little longer over the after dinner drinks. The pub tends to be commandeered by the porters in the evening time.

The weekly Bible Study night on Tour drew a bit of a crowd last week with its guest speaker - the ex-English rugby international Jonathan Webb - taking the floor. There is a certain amount of cynicism in the caddie shack about those who attend such meetings. Contemptuous mumblings about golfers looking for divine intervention on their putting averages rather than any message from the Bible.

A couple of dozen people related to the Tour gathered at a restaurant in Woburn to listen to Webb. The speaker eased into his speech with a fairly detailed description of what goes on with the 13 tendons and 21 joints (or is it the other way around) and all the attached nerves in one hand while attempting the simple function of gripping the club.

Bernhard Langer piped-up in his inimitable monotone voice "now I understand why I had the yips for so long". The funny thing is that I could imagine an analytical perfectionist like Langer trying to pin-point which one of the potential 21 joints could be the offending one.

Webb mentioned the stress and trauma inflicted on the golfer's body through endless ball bashing. He overlooked the strain inflicted on the porter's body from humping the traumatised and stressed out equipment about.

The conversation over the delicious dinner that followed charged steadily towards beliefs. As I was tucking into my desert I was joined by a happy looking middle-aged American preacher named Bill. Beside him sat Dan. After a brief discussion about the evening's proceedings Dan asked if I had seen Bill's leg yet. I replied that I hadn't as I was concentrating on my creme caramel.

Without further encouragement Bill had his right trouser leg hitched up and his sock rolled down exposing an impressive bulging calf muscle. He then pointed to a beetle tattoo below, and asked me to guess who put it there. Naturally, having only met the man a couple of spoonfuls earlier, I had no idea who had adorned Bill's leg with such a work of art. "Charles Manson" Dan replied with enthusiasm.

Bill is a reformed bank robber who did some time with one of the most infamous killers in the Western World. The minister was shacked up in the neighbouring cell to Manson for four months of his sentence. When he looked in Manson's eyes he saw the devil staring back at him. This is where Bill began his search for the truth.

It was a sentiment that caddies could well identify with when looking in the eyes of their player after he has hit a shot over a green. All of us have witnessed that piercing demonic look from their boss. Perhaps this was what the inquisitive caddies were doing at the Bible Study. Looking for that compassionate gaze.