Where archaic traditions can dim path of progress

Caddie's Role: There is a build-up to a major which may not be the type of preamble that would befit such a prestigious event…

Caddie's Role:There is a build-up to a major which may not be the type of preamble that would befit such a prestigious event. Schedules are chosen carefully throughout the year so that the week fits in at a potential peak time for performance. The players try to be fresh and some come and play a sneak preview practice round, others spend an intensive week with their swing coaches. Each to their own when it comes to British Open preparation.

It is on a much more practical level that us loopers approach the event; where are we going to stay for the 136th British Open Championship at Carnoustie, a place that is not known for its surplus of hotels? Despite Loch Lomond being a prestigious event, the weekend at the Scottish Open sees some serious posturing for last-minute house deals among us bagmen.

As caddies we have been reared not only on flexible scheduling but also on a shoestring. So the idea of spending £4,000 on a modest three-bedroomed sandstone semi-detached house on the outskirts of town is not the most appealing option. Experience has told us that the weekend before sees many cancellations and subsequent panicking from residents.

The upshot of my group holding out for an exorbitant weekly rental instead of an outrageous one was that we all converged in the 19th Pub on Kinloch street on Sunday evening waiting to meet our Arthur Daly-like character with keys and contracts for a three-bedroomed box at 10 times its weekly rate.

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The tradition continues at the Open and as ever no one is left out in the rain at night.

Another tradition is the notoriously poor organisation when it comes to gaining initial access. I have been at every Open since 1985 and despite the mammoth advances in technology, medicine, health, education and general well-being, the ticket system for this great event is sagging way beneath the average progress curve.

Here is how I approached the Open at Carnoustie: from the first security guard I encountered at a car-park near the clubhouse I received a shake of the head and a reluctant conversation informing me I would have to go to public parking a bus ride away. I found a spot on the street.

I greeted the next security guard with my European Tour credential, which has a photo of me and looks very official. I asked politely, "May I go in and get my credentials please?" to which he replied you need a badge to get in. To which I responded, just like I did in 1986 in Turnberry, "The badge is inside and I need to get in to get it."

That is the way it was and two decades later that is the way it is.

At which point I shuffle off in a huff and appeal to another security guard if I could gain access to get my ticket and find my player who is at this stage waiting impatiently for me. The same routine.

I took off at caddie pace, found a gap in a fence, vaulted a wall and regained my balance by the 18th fairway close to the Barrie Burn.

I looked over my shoulder and there was no security guard in sight. I skulked across the 18th fairway and got distracted from my security alert by the strong tidal flow of water through the Barrie Burn. I had broken into work.

That burn is like one of those sites that has been the scene of some horrible disaster. I had a vivid image of Jean Van de Velde standing in the burn with his trousers rolled up as his mind unravelled on the last hole on the last day of the 1999 Open.

How awful, and all I was worried about was getting chased out of the Open for not having the right credentials, which were impossible to get because of the archaic system that had been upheld by the tournament organisers. This is one part of the tradition I really wish would change.

My initial experience, on a relatively balmy day for this part of the world, was a bad part of tradition.

Traversing the 18th fairway was enough to suggest that the organisers have very much got it right in the set-up of the stunning Carnoustie Links.

In 1999 caddies were afraid to place their players' bags in the rough in case they lost them. The sight of experienced professionals staggering off the 18th green looking like they had encountered a mismatch in a heavyweight boxing bout suggested things were not how they should have been on the links.

Carnoustie was renamed "Carnasty" when the Open was held here last.

This year the R&A look like they understand and respect the competitors as well as the course.

With the impeccable condition and sensible set-up of the course, with normal-width fairways and rough that makes you think and not immediately reach for the lob wedge, the Open is once again an exciting challenge. Carnasty no more; let's call it Carnicey.

Getting accommodation - well, we are used to the waiting game on that front and experience guides us.

But if only I could walk though the entrance gate in a civilised fashion instead of stealing into work I might actually feel I was acting in a professional manner where tradition can embrace progress.

Colin Byrne

Colin Byrne

Colin Byrne, a contributor to The Irish Times, is a professional caddy