Book Review: ‘The Caddie Who Won the Masters’

Editor’s note: Author and golf enthusiast Roland Merullo recently reviewed bestselling author John Coyne’s latest golf novel, The Caddie Won Won the Masters. To learn more about Coyne’s book, visit JohnCoyneBooks.com or Amazon.

By Roland Merullo
Special to ARMCHAIR GOLF

IN JOHN COYNE’S SPLENDID new golf novel, The Caddie Who Won the Masters, all of the action, from first page to last, takes place at Augusta National Golf Club, site of what is arguably the most famous golf tournament on earth. Because of this, and because of Coyne’s intricate knowledge of the golf course and Masters’ history, Augusta itself shares the spotlight as the book’s main character. For those of us lucky enough to have walked those hallowed grounds, it seems perfectly appropriate that the manicured fairways and slippery greens should leap out of the background of the story and take center stage.

The plot revolves around the other main character, Tim Alexander, an aging amateur who earns a Masters’ appearance by virtue of a victory in the United States Mid-Amateur Championship. Alexander’s relationship with the game is as complex as the undulations of Augusta’s notorious greens: a young phenom, he turned his back on golf in part because of a difficult relationship with a business-obsessed father. Instead of pursuing a golf career, he’s devoted his working life to teaching English at a Midwestern university.

For most golfers an invitation to the Masters is a great honor; for Tim, it’s a kind of torment. His wife is seriously ill, and leaving her to play in a tournament he believes he has no chance of winning only brings up and intensifies his troubled history with the game.

Coyne does a very good job of smoothly bringing together Augusta and Alexander as the main elements in a stew of golf suspense and personal turmoil. As he showed in his other books in the “Caddie” series, The Caddie Who Knew Ben Hogan, and The Caddie Who Played with Hickory, he demonstrates a knowledge of the game that would be the envy of most golf writers. His understanding of the intricacies of golf is top-shelf, and his command of Augusta history is particularly impressive.

He does a nice job, too, of weaving a list of golf gods into the story—from Clifford Roberts and Bob Jones, who brought the tournament to life, to Ben Hogan, Bobby Locke, Jimmy Demaret and Gene Sarazen, who were winners of the coveted green jacket. These ghosts of Augusta’s past are surreal, on the one hand, but we get enough of their personal story to make them all too human, as well, and Coyne uses them deftly to demonstrate that, behind every golf legend, there is a very human tale.

In fact, though I’m a golf fanatic, what I especially liked about The Caddie Who Won the Masters, was the way the human stories are interleaved with the shot-by-shot recounting of this imaginary tournament. One of Tim’s fellow amateurs, Charlie Smith, is particularly well drawn, and his personal predicament holds up a mirror to Alexander’s own past. I would have liked to see a bit more of Alexander’s wife, and of his children especially, but in order for the book to work as well as it does, Augusta National—with its history of heartbreak and triumph—had to occupy the spotlight.

Coyne is able to let his knowledge of the game and its history serve the story rather than overwhelm it—a trick many golf novelists struggle to accomplish. The novel moves quickly, with no wasted scenes and with just enough surprises to keep the reader pleasantly off balance. For golf aficionados and lovers of the game, it makes for a very enjoyable stroll down Magnolia Lane.

Roland Merullo has published nine novels and three books of non-fiction. He is a passionate golfer, a devoted father, and a lover of good food and wine. He lives in western Massachusetts with his wife, Amanda, and their two daughters. Pay him a visit at RolandMerullo.com.

Book Excerpt: ‘The Caddie Who Won The Masters’

Editor’s note: Three years ago I asked author friend John Coyne if he would be interested in going to the Masters. His response was an enthusiastic yes. He flew south from New York City, I picked him up in Charlotte, and off we went to Augusta, two longtime golf fans making their first pilgrimage to America’s famed cathedral of golf. For John, it was that and something more—research for the third novel in his popular “caddie” series. Today, I’m pleased to offer an excerpt from his just-released golf tale,The Caddie Who Won The Masters.

By John Coyne
Special to ARMCHAIR GOLF

Copyright © 2011 John Coyne. All rights reserved. Used with permission.

A PLAYER NEVER WINS the Masters on his own, as those of us who follow golf know well enough. But in all honesty, when I look back at my week in Georgia, I don’t know which one of those golfing legends helped me the most. Of course, my caddie played a part—that young kid who showed up out of nowhere to carry my bag. And certainly Kerry had more than her share of influence on how it all turned out.

Golf writers pointed to what occurred on the third round at Amen Corner, saying that was the turning point. Yet the truth is, so much more had happened to me before that afternoon out there at the far end of Augusta National that I can’t say my eagle on 15 was the decisive moment. Even though it was there—on the back side in the third round—were my game turned around in the fading sunlight of moving day, as Saturdays on tour are called, and I came into contention.

In retrospect I know that what transpired up in the Crow’s Nest of the clubhouse before the tournament was more important than any shot I made at Augusta National.

So when I put into place the bits and pieces of my time in Georgia, as if they were some sort of mythological mystery, all I can say for certain is that my life began to subtly shift the moment I stepped off the Washington Avenue bus at the front gate of Augusta National Golf Club on the Sunday afternoon before the opening round. I realize now I wasn’t in control of my own destiny that week, but, of course, others who have played the Masters have also said as much.

I do know that on that first day I looked more like a forty-year-old caddie than a player, standing there at the bus stop with a suitcase in one hand and my clubs slung over my shoulder. I was a wrinkled, unshaven mess, wearing baggy pants, beat-up New Balances and a golf cap jerked down on my uncombed, thick, salt-and-pepper hair. Anyone who was watching—though no one was—would’ve taken me for one of those old-time loopers who travel from club to club hoping to grab a bag and earn a few bucks to buy another bottle of booze. What separated me from the caddie yard were my sticks. One glance in my bag would have told any player that even if I wasn’t first class, at least the clubs were.

I stepped across the wide street and said hello to the uniformed Securitas guards standing in front of the white-brick gatehouse. I told them my name—Timothy Jack Alexander—and that I had come to play.

Cars filled with players, officials, reporters, and members of Augusta National were slipping by me at the entrance. The cars slowed, the people inside presented credentials, then they were waved ahead. The sleek automobiles rode smoothly under the speckled sunlight filtering through the canopy of those ancient magnolia trees that stretch from the gates up the famous drive to the white-columned plantation manor house.

I showed the guard my invitation. Every year, the winner of the U.S. Mid-Amateur is offered a chance to play in the Masters, and having won the tournament, this was my year. The letter was signed by Billy Payne himself, the chairman of Augusta National.

Next the guard wanted me to prove that I was really Timothy Jack Alexander. I showed him my Southern Illinois University faculty ID, with the mug shot of me looking as if I had just played thirty-six holes on a hot August afternoon.

“Would you like a lift to the clubhouse, sir?” he offered, comprehending now that I wasn’t a crazy old guy trying to crash the gates.

I shook my head, saying I wanted to walk onto the famous Augusta golf course. It was for sentimental reasons, I explained, but still the guard frowned. Who’d ever heard of a Masters qualifier wanting to walk down Magnolia Lane?

I thanked the guard, swung my bag onto my shoulder and, on foot, followed the limousines through the iron gates of Augusta National, the citadel of golf in America. I knew it was the home of legends. What I never dreamed was what the legends would mean to me.

Bestselling author John Coyne has written more than 25 books of fiction and nonfiction. To learn more about John’s new golf novel, The Caddie Who Won the Masters, visit JohnCoyneBooks.com or Amazon.