I caddied at a DP World Tour event for a Tour Pro: here’s everything I learned

Tour professionals are the pinnacle of golf but still need a helping hand to perform at their best. A caddie’s role is incredibly versatile, shifting from friend and mentor to personal assistant and beyond.

At the Betfred British Masters, hosted by Sir Nick Faldo, I was offered a seemingly once-in-a-lifetime experience: the opportunity to caddie for a DP World Tour winner! 
That man was TG columnist and all-round good guy Andrew Johnston… better known as ‘Beef!’ With the help of Jess McAvoy, Beef’s full-time bag man (and close friend), by my side, I took on the challenge as the popular Tour Pro’s right-hand man. 

Watching on TV, where all the focus is on the players, we rarely get much insight into the work of the caddies. I was curious to find out if they really are integral to the player’s decision-making, mentality, and results, or if they are just overhyped bagmen. After 18 long holes, that question had been well and truly answered…  

I’m halfway up the 3rd hole on the Brabazon and I’m blowing. Using the fresh-out-the-packet club towel to wipe my brow, I look up from my feet to see the sky is now gently turning into a mix of bright blue and hazy orange as the sun starts its daily descent. 

I’m moving more quickly than I want to, with the weight of a full-to-the-brim tour bag in tow, to try and rejoin the rest of my group that’s now a hundred yards ahead. I’m this far behind because I was recording a mid-round update for the TG YouTube channel – one that needed re-recording on the 4th tee anyway, thanks to my waning energy and poor delivery. 

However, playing catch-up has given me time on my own to reflect on the day. It’s been a long day at the Belfry-hosted British Masters and it started as it’s ending – with trying to catch up to Beef.

A range for a meeting

The TG team arrived on-site the day before, so this wasn’t my first time walking through the practice facilities. The player and staff entrance is across from the main lobby of the Belfry Hotel, with the almost luminescent decals of tightly-packed tour trucks lining the safer side of the driving range netting. There’s a fresh aroma from the new bark that has been laid around the grounds ready for the arrival of the DP World Tour’s stars, but, having made my way from the lively putting green on the other side of the clubhouse, the smell is even stronger. 

The bark runs alongside the path that leads me to the chipping green, where one of the many black-suited security teams that stand bulwark against any would-be aggressors checks my access pass and grants me entry. At my home course, it’s rare to see anything close to this many golfers squeezing in and around the short-game area’s green… it’s as if a parish council meeting has been called, out on the church lawn. 

Despite the August heat, I’m presented with a scene that reminds me of deep winter. Not only is the green shaped like a snowman, but it’s also taken on the colors of one from the sheer quantity of little white spheres littered across its surface, the greenkeepers sweeping them away as fast as they can in a vain effort to keep the area clear for more practice. 
 
Neither of the men I’m looking for can be seen adding to the ball art piece, so I wander down to my left and around the covered range that the chipping green backs on to. During the previous day, the only sounds heard were the fizzes and tings of irons and woods being struck, mixed in with the occasional click of a fitting wrench or gentle advice of a coach. These are the noises of players making final preparations for the tournament ahead, hoping to find that small edge that might see silverware, or at least a bigger cheque, in their hands come Sunday afternoon.

Today was different. With a pro-am ahead, the range was packed with players of every standard loosening up. It’s a bizarre scene as Ryder Cup captain and former World No.1 Luke Donald stripes balls alongside one of a host of celebrities who is doing anything but. Also in contrast to the quiet of Tuesday was a new sound system, ejecting a high-tempo playlist to entertain both the players and their fans who stand just a few yards away, safely behind barriers to protect them from any rogue celebrity swings. 
 
As I move down the line, past the still-beautiful motions of Donald and the even more beautiful hair of Robert Rock, I finally spot the man I’m after – a relaxed-looking young fella who is placing an all-black Cobra staff bag down before kneeling to retrieve something from the enormous pockets of the Vessel-designed collaboration. 
 
The item in question is a piece of thick string with a rod at either end, and the man in question is Jess McAvoy, the caddie and long-time friend of Beef. As it turns out, the training aid Jess was setting up would be a perfect start to understanding the care and attention that would be needed to look after our Tour professional for the day. 

“We do have the drill sticks if we need them” smiles Jess “but he [Beef] generally prefers the string as a visual guide during a warm-up. We can work down a neat line of divots at the same time then, helps keep the greenkeepers happier as well.”

 
Jess has a warm aura to him. A tall gent wearing the modern caddie outfit of untucked polo, shorts, and relaxed footwear – a look I will come to regret not copying, as I stand there in trousers and hoodie, becoming more and more aware of the midday sun – as well as sporting a dark beard dotted with the occasional copper-colored whisker, more well-kept than the wild facial hair his boss is known for. I wanted to talk to Jess before Beef arrived to get a feel for what my duties would include and where best to focus my attention to keep our man happy. 
 
“Snacks is the most important thing.” he half-jokes. “Snacks and balls are our keys, we can get by without much else but none of us want to be caught out on the course feeling hungry. It’s even worse if we’re reaching into the bag for a replacement ball and we come out empty-handed, so we tend to stock up on many more balls than we’ll ever need so that can’t become a reality. And I can keep my job!” 
 
As Jess talks me through the placement and locations of essentials throughout the Aladdin’s cave of a bag, we’re joined by the main man, serenaded by the famous ‘Beeeeeef’ from the spectators.

Weight on my shoulders

The Englishman has that famous smile on his face as he greets us, a grin that even the depths of his famous beard can do nothing to hide. The joy that he radiates through the television is just as strong in real life and he is relishing the opportunity to be back amid the whirlwind of tour life. 
 
“Call me whatever you like!” he laughs, as I ask whether he would prefer I go with his obvious moniker, first name, or even continue with the formal ‘Mr Johnston’ that I naturally fall back to. He is working through his bag while we talk, making beautiful connections with everything from wedges to long irons and woods, stopping off to chat and joke with coach, caddie, and fellow players, all of whom seem as delighted to have him back as he is to be here. 

The energy that he and Jess give off is a perfect match of the other’s, clearly something they feel is important for them to be able to perform to their best on the course. 

“We grew up together, so it’s something that’s built up over a long time. We try to keep the same atmosphere going throughout the week. In between shots, it’s more about making jokes and enjoying the walk.” Jess is telling me this while marking up the balls ready for today’s round.

Beef plays a Titleist Pro V1, with a small ‘H’ for Harley, his daughter, but Jess is adding a dot to each, too.

“We’re trying something simpler,” the caddie tells me. “He used to have a line on the ball for alignment on the greens, but we tried putting without it recently and had some good results. Now we’re just putting a small dot for reference and otherwise going for a more instinctive style of putting.” 

After some inconsistent displays on the green in recent weeks, Beef has also decided to switch back into an older, center-shafted Scotty Cameron putter alongside a new grip, he’ll putting both through their paces during the Pro-am without the tournament on the line.

There’s also a ‘new’ 3-wood returning to the bag, which Beef and I chatted about. 

“Just been struggling to strike it how I want to. It’s not behaving itself!” he says, as he explains why his Cobra Darkspeed fairway wood lost its place. “We went to get fitted at the start of the year and the driver has been great, I just haven’t quite liked the fairway as much, so we’ve just had this old head made back up.” 

The head in question is an Aerojet LS, a previous-generation model from Cobra’s arsenal. There’s not massive differences in shape between the two, with the Darkspeed fairways arguably easier to hit than the Aerojet series. I think this highlights how much confidence is a factor that shouldn’t be overlooked. 

“I know how well this [Aerojet] did for me before I switched and wanted to see what happens if I go back to it,” Beef added. 

It reminded me of an experience with an old Callaway Epic Speed fairway that I just couldn’t seem to improve upon until I met up with Titleist and added the GT2 earlier this year. It just goes to show that despite the obvious differences in golfing ability, pros and amateurs have plenty in common. 

With 15 minutes until we’re off, it’s time to move to the 7th tee for the shotgun start. But first, I get a quick crash course on reading a course planner. Seeing the panic on my face as Jess explained what every detailed mark and number meant, he was quick to offer reassurance.

“I’ll be out the entire time with you so don’t worry about it, we’ll look more at it when we get there, plus we have a laser rangefinder for practice days!” 
 
The Bushnell laser on the bag and the Garmin Approach S70 on my wrist help relax me a little more, so, while Beef finishes speaking with his coach who’s been checking up the swing before we leave, I put on my caddy bib, Jess hands me balls, an extra glove, and some tees for my bib’s joey pocket, and I pick up the bag and start to walk. 

It was then that I regretted the decision to volunteer myself for caddying duties. 
 
I wouldn’t consider my own golf bag to be light by any stretch, normally sitting around 10-12 kg, and I carry that for 18 holes with no issues. Jess tells me that this staff bag, when fully loaded like today, can be upwards of 30 kilos, something I have become acutely aware of as it sits on my shoulder. 
 
I find myself doubting if I can carry this ludicrous mass around for four miles over the next five hours, but after a small adjustment to the strap the weight becomes more bearable.

By the time we get to the tee, our partners are already there: a three-ball of Manchester United associates in Wes Brown, Matt Williamson, and Mickey Thomas, who are delighted to see Beef and, thankfully, all happy to allow us to film the experience with them. It’s an interesting moment watching Wes, a two-time Champions League winner and hero to many, get excited by another sportsman, but I think that says everything about Andrew Johnston’s personality and why he’s become so well-loved by the public over the last near-decade. 
 
I’m woken from my own little world with a reminder that I have a job to do as Beef asks for a ball and a tee, which he at once clasps between that famous grin. I pull out the course guide to advise on a distance and realize I’ve already forgotten everything I have been told on reading the damn booklet. 
 
Noticing the look of abject horror on my face, Jess gently points out that as this is a par 3 the laser might be a better place to start the day. My inability to understand basic mathematics will become a trend over the next few hours but luckily the laser tells us it’s 178, Beef calls for an 8-iron and duly flushes it to 10 feet. 

We leave him to hit his putt, which finishes slightly above the hole for an easy par, before the rest of the team all try to make birdie from Beef’s marker. I wasn’t worried about scores today; I was just delighted not to make a blunder on the very first hole of my new job! 
 
Unfortunately, there were still 17 more opportunities… and my first mistake soon arrived.

Coach, Butler, Friend 

The format of today’s round is simple. It’s a scramble where only better than par counts so our team of amateurs will be picking up if they can’t make a birdie or better. What I’ve forgotten though, is that this is still a practice round for Beef, so he’ll be playing all his shots regardless. 

My reminder of this fact came, embarrassingly, on our second hole. I was walking up to a drive on the 8th fairway when a chorus of shouts stopped me in my tracks. Turning around, I was met with our entire group, 15-odd people (although it felt like ten times that), yelling to me from where our ball was, some 50 yards back. 

I scuttled back sheepishly as the players and crowd, which now included my TG colleagues, giggled at my mistake. It felt like the whole world had seen my error, but this is where Beef truly won me over. He didn’t make a fuss, simply flashed that big smile and asked for his yardage. 

“Just stay alongside me and we’ll be fine.” he says, as we walk after his shot (another that he’s put inside 10-feet), helping me to settle into my time with him. Despite being alongside one of golf’s biggest characters, the rest of my day was as relaxed as any I’ve had on a course. 

It’s indicative of Beef’s whole personality. Even on a Wednesday, with nothing at stake, crowds line the fairways and greens, mobile phones poised in hand and at the ready, trying to squeeze close enough for a selfie. They needn’t worry. There’s not a person on that course that wasn’t greeted by the Englishman, with Beef stopping between holes to meet his fans and even venturing across fairways to take time with well-wishers on the other side of the ropes.

With my DP World Tour bib on, many of the requests were directed to me, and our man was happy to oblige anyone I pointed out; I even got a few fist bumps myself, an odd feeling when you’re not anything like as important in comparison to the athlete you’re alongside. There is a chance that my Beef-esque beard had fooled them into thinking I was somehow related to their favorite player. 

We’ve reached the signature 10^th hole – the short par 4 that Seve Ballesteros famously drove in 1978 and 1985 – and there’s further proof of just how loved Beef still is. The tees have been moved slightly forward, so it’s just that ‘new’ 3-wood that’s needed, which Beef flushes right down the target line… it’s definitely staying in the bag. My yardage of 256 to carry the wooden borders of the pond irrelevant as the ball flies, seemingly lifted through the air on the cries of “Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeef!” from every angle of the hole, easily past the danger. 

“It’s a practice day so no reason not to let people enjoy themselves. So we had to go for it!”  

To give him his due, Andrew knows exactly what the crowd is after but it’s also valuable help for him. If he’s one or two back come Sunday, I ask, will he be making the same choice? 

“Probably!” It’s a short but sweet answer and I’m left hoping that I, and the crowds here for the final round, get to witness the same shot again. 

I do wonder if there’s ever a negative to all this attention, though, and turned to Jess to find out whether Beef’s popularity ever affected the pair on the course. 

“It’s not normally an issue during tournaments, people are pretty respectful, so I don’t need to shush anyone very often.” 

Even in my limited time with the pair, it struck me that it would be challenging to keep your feet on the ground and maintain focus with this much attention each week. It made me realize just how important the caddie’s role is in their player’s well-being.

There’s no ‘I’ in Beef 

Even the most stoic of golfers can’t let pressure sit on their shoulders 24 hours a day and this is where the real demand on a caddie comes. 

“Most of the time I try to distract him – we chat about football, what we’ll do tonight, what we’ll eat, how we’ll spend our free time before the round tomorrow,” Jess says. “When we’re over the ball, we’re locked in on that shot but outside of that we talk about anything other than golf.” 

Jess is aware of his player’s needs, with regularly scheduled hydration, food, and medicines as recommended by Beef’s team. He also needs to be aware of what Andrew’s coach wants him to work on so he can keep an eye on any issues, and make sure none of the injuries and niggles that have plagued Beef for the past couple of years are causing problems. 

But his biggest role is ensuring there’s positivity, even when the going gets tough. 

“That is massive for us and that’s where I think having a friend helps. We spend time together after the round, we go out for dinner with his wife (Jodie) and daughter (Harley), you become like family.” 

They’re a family that travels together, ever present as Beef continues his journey back on Europe’s premier Tour. 

“We’ll go out together on days off, all four of us. We even went out to an amusement park last week,” Jess adds. The support system is total, and it’s evident in their conversations I was privy to, with the reinforcements from Jess on club selection or smaller moments like him having packed a favorite snack and ensuring water bottles are topped up every other hole. 

By our 12^th hole, I was flagging, relieved that Jess had taken on a lot of his normal duties, allowing me to focus on making it round with the bag and pulling the right clubs when required. This gave me a close-up view of their interactions and it’s clear this is more than a business relationship for them both, with plans for the evening’s entertainment, whether they want to catch a movie or just explore the area for activity parks, all covered between shots. 

So, we’re almost back to where we started this saga as we walk down our last few holes. But five hours on I’ve stopped caring about the weight of the bag and instead I’m focused on how lucky I’ve been to experience this day. It’s been a genuine privilege to get this close to caddie life and have had the opportunity with such a nice pair.

As we head along the Brabazon’s 5^th hole – our 17^th – Beef’s now 4-under and about to make another birdie putt. His game is clearly back and as sharp as ever (something he proved a week later with a T-3 at the Omega European Masters – his best DP World Tour finish in years) and there are high hopes for the future. 

In the few days leading up to this event, I couldn’t help but plan (or dream) about making some outstanding contribution to Beef’s play with a unique insight or some witty comment for the camera. Ultimately, I failed miserably at both. 

Instead, I learned that while the caddie isn’t the star attraction, the role they and the player’s team play in helping maintain their boss’ levels, is more important than I’ve ever realized. It truly is a team effort. But, as much as I’m enjoying the final few hundred yards of our round, taking in the sights and sounds of an experience I’m unlikely to ever have again, I’m already yearning for the comfort of my office chair tomorrow, knowing I won’t be carrying a Tour bag for another four rounds! 

But most of all, I’m looking forward to the next time I watch live golf and the new level of appreciation I’ll have for the players and their teams. And hopefully, after reading this, you will have that appreciation, too.

About the author

Lewis Daff

Lewis Daff joined the Today’s Golfer digital team in 2024, having spent more than a decade in both big box golf retail and independent stores, working as a club fitter and builder.

Experienced with every level of golfer, from beginner to professional, he has achieved Master Fitter and Builder status with most major manufacturers, including Mizuno, Taylormade, and Callaway, helping him to cement both a wide and deep knowledge base. Lewis specializes in Clubs, Shafts, Training Aids, Launch Monitors and Grips.

In Lewis’ bag is Titleist GT3 Driver (9º) with Fujikura Ventus Black, Titleist GT2 Fairway Wood (15º), Wilson Staff D9 Forged 3-iron, Srixon ZX7 MKii Irons (4-PW), Titleist SM9 Wedges (52º, 60º), Toulon San Diego Putter, and Callaway Chrome Tour Ball.

Talk to Lewis about why steel shafts are now dead and graphite is the only way forward or any other equipment you’d like to debate via his email.