Williams - Out of the Rough

Ive always been straight-up.

That hasnt changed over 50-odd years but my outspoken nature has stood me in good stead throughout 36 years of caddying, where honesty, directness and the ability to spur a player on with a well-timed word can be the difference between winning and losing.

My readiness to speak my mind cost me a job as the caddy for Greg Norman, who was the worlds best player at the time, and brought unwelcome headlines after I was sacked by Tiger Woods.

Sometimes words come out before Ive thought about their consequences such as the day I gave Adam Scott a pep talk on the practice green at Augusta, before the 2011 Masters. I told Adam in no uncertain terms he had to go out there and believe he was the best player, and to keep telling himself: Im Adam Scott and Im winning this tournament.

Nothing wrong with that. Except I was still caddying for Tiger at the time.

I dont know why I said what I did Id never spoken to a rival player like that. It wasnt entirely professional. If Tiger had found out I was trying to help Adam he would have fired me on the spot, and rightfully so, but I didnt think about the consequences all I wanted to do was give Adam, as a friend, some encouragement, even though he was someone Tiger and I were trying to beat.

Adam blazed his way around Augusta that afternoon and came within a whisker of winning the tournament his second-place finish was his best performance in a major championship. Tiger was fourth.

Why did I do it? I didnt have a grand plan to one day caddy for Adam, though thats how it eventually turned out. It was more likely a symptom of how the once brotherly bond between Tiger and me had frayed to the point of breaking. Previously I wouldnt have given a rival any more attention than a cursory hello. Tiger and I operated in our own universe I was locked in the orbit of his service with me having dedicated a quarter of my life to helping achieve his goal of winning more major golf championships than anyone else.

But from the day his life descended into a tabloid circus with revelations he had been serially unfaithful to his wife, Elin a scandal that dragged me in its wake I increasingly realised the damage to our relationship was beyond repair. I knew our journey together was close to finishing.

From a young age, I expended most of my energy on sport. I was super-competitive in everything I did and whenever I lost I would always examine the reasons for it.

I had dreams of playing for the New Zealand All Blacks rugby was my first love and I carry a vivid memory of a winters day in 1977: I was standing in the tunnel as the players left the field after a test match between the All Blacks and the British and Irish Lions at Athletic Park, Wellington. The Lions represented the pinnacle of rugby a feared opponent for the All Blacks yet I had the cheek to blurt out to one of their players as he ran past: Can I have your socks?

No problem, he said. I followed him into the locker room to claim my first piece of memorabilia my only wish later was that I had asked him for his jersey, but then I fully expected one day to be on that same field, swapping jerseys at the end of the game. Having said that, I didnt even keep the socks.

Earlier Id been out there playing in the curtain-raiser, for the New Zealand under-15 schoolboys against the Australian under-15s. I was 13 but big for my age. I played prop and scored the only try in the match an illegal try, I might add: I picked the ball up from an offside position but the referee didnt see me. It was enough to give us a 63 victory.

Golf and motor racing were my other passions, thanks to my dad. He would take my brother Phillip and me to Saturday-night speedway at Te Marua, just north of Wellington and a quick trek over Haywards Hill from our place. I was hooked from the start.

Dad had also been a top amateur golfer and was once offered the chance to turn professional with the backing of Wisemans a sporting goods retailer that sponsored a major New Zealand golf tournament, which he twice won but my grandfather said that theres no future in golf and stopped him doing it.

Dad remembers when I started caddying for him, showing a love and desire for the game he was determined not to stand in my way.

He was extremely ambitious and had a huge determination for someone his age, and I wasnt going to do to him what my father had done to me. I knew Steve would make the grade no matter what he decided to do. Not that I could have stopped him anyway right from a very young age he knew where he wanted to go and he couldnt get there quickly enough. He had this overwhelming desire to get on with everything as fast as he could.

Young Steve was a very good golfer he hit the ball well, putted very well but his temperament let him down. He was such a perfectionist that when things went wrong he didnt like it. I think thats why he preferred to caddy.

Carrying my dads golf bag around Paraparaumu Beach Golf Club, one of New Zealands best links courses, was my first experience of caddying. I viewed it in the same vein as having a newspaper round or mowing the lawns it was how I earned pocket money. When I wasnt caddying for Dad, Id work for other members. The going rate was $2 a round.

I didnt just carry the bag, I tried to help these players with their game. Id work out on my own how far certain players could hit the ball and offer advice accordingly. I didnt know whether the information I gave was right or wrong but I delivered it with a confidence that suggested I knew exactly what I was talking about.

My skill and reputation soon brought bigger paydays. An offer of $3 a round was followed by another of $4, until I found myself at the centre of a bidding war. When I was offered $5 a round I had to say to the player: Well so-and-so has already offered me that youll have to go higher.

Allan James, the local butcher, was one of the best employers. He continually raised the stakes until I was getting $10 a round at Paraparaumu on a Sunday and $20 for a days work on his bag when he played interclub events elsewhere.

I earned it, though. When Allan was playing interclub, there was a lot of travel followed by a lot of drinking. After the competition hed be in the clubrooms having a few pints with his teammates and Id sit in his car listening to the horse races and writing down the results for him and his friends, who would come out every now and then to check on me and see if theyd won any money. I became skilled at filling out their form guides with the details of which horses won and the dividends they paid. In hindsight this was a good thing I could see how much they were losing on the horses and it put me right off gambling for life.

I also had to drive Allans car when hed had one too many, which was frequently. I was a good driver but at 13 didnt have a licence but someone had to drive the car if we were to get home in one piece. I wasnt taught how to drive a car I watched how other people did it and picked it up from there. When the time came to get my licence the guy who was taking me for my test got the shock of his life when he learned Id driven myself to the testing station.