Connect with us

Culture

He’s been Bryson DeChambeau’s caddie for a career-altering run. He’s also been processing a tragedy

Published

on

He’s been Bryson DeChambeau’s caddie for a career-altering run. He’s also been processing a tragedy

Greg Bodine’s hands quivered and his voice trembled. A cluster of his bottom eyelashes temporarily supported a teardrop before it cascaded down his cheek and onto his caddie bib.

Bryson DeChambeau — Bodine’s boss of 13 months — had just won the U.S. Open for the second time. Bodine had just become a major championship-winning caddie. There was obvious emotion surrounding the result as the 36-year-old looper fielded questions from a small group of reporters on Pinehurst’s 18th green, while DeChambeau accepted his trophy.

DeChambeau raised the reclaimed piece of hardware over his head. What club did Bryson hit for the winning bunker shot? The crowd erupted. Did you say anything to him before the round? DeChambeau went off on his victory lap. How did Bryson get his game to this point?

Standard stuff, the questions asked immediately to every caddie whose player has just won a trophy. Then: “How are you feeling?”

Bodine let out a deep exhale. He dipped his head and stared at the putting surface upon which the small group stood. A long pause. “So, there’s a backstory,” Bodine said, his mind going back 13 months to the day DeChambeau hired him. The tears — they were flowing now.

Advertisement

“The day that Bryson called,” Bodine said. “My wife and I found out that she had a miscarriage. We were actually at the hospital when Bryson called me.”


Caddying never really felt like a job for Bodine.

He played golf competitively growing up, and in high school, he already had his sights set on carrying the bag for his cousin, Andrew Putnam, a promising young player in the Seattle area, once he started his pursuit of professional golf. That dream became a reality and then it quickly snowballed into a career. In 2014, two years after first looping for Putnam at PGA Tour Q-School, Bodine, known as “G-Bo” on tour, secured then-rookie Tony Finau’s bag.

He stuck with the now six-time tour winner for nearly seven years. He accompanied Finau to his rise to the top 10 in the world before they parted ways in 2020. Why? The pair simply wasn’t winning together. Bodine had a young family back at home — his sons, Brooks and Parker, were 3 and 1 years old at the time, respectively. Kelsey, Bodine’s wife, had her hands full with the two boys. Finau was playing 30 to 35 weeks a year, and the tournaments that made the gig worth it were becoming rare. It was time for a change. It was time for Bodine to think about coming home.

After a short stint caddying for Patrick Rodgers, Bodine knew what he wanted to do. He returned to Kirkland, Wash., to pursue a different dream, one that took some time to settle into. In March of 2021, the Pacific Northwest native returned to his pre-caddying existence — normal, simple family life — and set out to launch an indoor golf facility called Evergreen Golf Club. Bodine dedicated a large chunk of his caddie earnings to the business and pitched it to investors, including his co-founder, former Seahawks player Jermaine Kearse. By the winter of 2022, the company was off and running.

“I had a handful of people reach out to ask me to come back and caddie, on the PGA Tour and on LIV,” Bodine says. “But I was committed to getting Evergreen off the ground.”

Once that was done and Evergreen was running smoothly, Bodine could start to direct his full focus toward what had really drawn him away from life on tour: his family. Kelsey was pregnant with their third child.

“Being back home, one thing that we were looking forward to was growing our family and starting that next chapter,” Bodine says. “My wife was pregnant. She was in her second trimester. We told a handful of people and we were getting close to finding out the gender.”

One evening in early May of 2023, Kelsey knew something was wrong with the baby — very wrong. They booked an appointment that night for first thing the next day. That morning, before gathering their things and departing for the hospital, Bodine picked up an incoming call on his iPhone. He was greeted by the voice of Brett Falkhoff, DeChambeau’s agent, on the other line.

Advertisement

“Bryson’s making a caddie change, and he’s interested in hearing what you’re up to,” Falkhoff said. “OK if he gives you call?”

Without much thought, Bodine obliged. He was surprised by the inquiry, but not shocked. DeChambeau had been playing on the LIV tour for almost a year and he hadn’t seen much success. Falkoff described DeChambeau’s game as “rock bottom” during the brief call, Bodine said. When looping for Finau on the PGA Tour, they’d been paired with DeChambeau frequently and always got along.

GO DEEPER

YouTube golf is taking over. Will the PGA Tour ‘like and subscribe’?

But all of the thoughts, memories and wonders provoked by the call flashed through Bodine’s brain with little permanence. He couldn’t think about caddying. The call with Falkoff quickly slipped his mind.

Advertisement

At the hospital, Kelsey was taken into a private room where she underwent test after test. Bodine sat in the hallway, anxiously waiting for his wife to emerge with some semblance of hopeful news — a glimmer of hope for their child. That’s when Bodine saw his phone flash with another incoming call: Bryson DeChambeau.

“I didn’t tell him what was going on, he probably just thought I was sitting at my work or at my house or something,” Bodine says.

The pair caught up for a few minutes, the conversation spanning from the state of DeChambeau’s game to Bodine’s experience caddying in events like the Ryder Cup and Presidents Cup. It flowed well — they seemed to be on the same page. So they said goodbyes, agreeing to call each other back and reconnect later in the day. Still Bodine gave DeChambeau no indication of his whereabouts, his family situation, or his emotional distress.

As the hours went by, the test results began to come in. The Bodines’ worst nightmare had come true.


“Can you be in Tulsa in four days?” DeChambeau asked nonchalantly over the phone later that evening.

Advertisement

Bodine didn’t know how to respond. He had entertained the call with DeChambeau not knowing if it would end in a caddying job, let alone one that started in four days — four days after the miscarriage. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. So were Kelsey’s.

“Can I have a day to think about it?”

Bodine and his wife couldn’t make the decision on their own — it was too hard to even think. So they turned to family. They sat down for breakfast with his parents and dinner with hers. They approached close friends and mentors. They trusted their circle with the impossible task of processing a career-changing opportunity while they remained stunned with shock and grief. The LIV tournament could serve as a much-needed distraction, even if the job didn’t work out. But could Bodine handle it? Was the family prepared for this? Is this a good thing? They turned to faith.

“The night before, before anything suspicious was going on with Kelsey’s body, I never thought I would caddie again, and I thought we were having a third child that fall,” Bodine said. “I’m a very faith-driven guy, so I kind of took it as God telling us that this is a door opening, and that was a door closing.”


DeChambeau has been on a run in the majors since Bodine took over caddie duties. (Warren Little / Getty Images)

Everyone was on board, so long as everyone was going to Tulsa. Brooks’ sixth birthday was that week, and Bodine wasn’t spending it without him. Parker was coming along too. The family of four — plus Bodine’s mother — packed up their stuff and booked their flights to Oklahoma and set out on their new, unexpected chapter.

Advertisement

“You look at your kids, and weeks like that will remind you how precious they are.”


DeChambeau was struggling on LIV — badly. He was consistently finishing outside of the top 20 in 48-man events. His best result on LIV so far was a tie for 16th place.

Meanwhile, Bodine was running on pure adrenaline. He readjusted to the physical burdens of caddying and DeChambeau’s playing style by day, and by night, the family celebrated Brooks’ birthday at the hotel pool and the pizza joint across the street. No one in the group could have predicted their week would look like this. But it did. And it was something to be grateful for. They attempted, accepting intermittent success, to smile through the pain.

That week in Tulsa, with Bodine on his bag, DeChambeau finished in a tie for fifth, shooting 12-under-par to take home a $703,333 paycheck. With the standard 7 percent caddie fee, it’s safe to say Bodine had a good first tournament, too. Something was clicking.

The family headed home to Seattle that Sunday evening, but DeChambeau and Bodine took off for Rochester, N.Y., for the PGA Championship.

Advertisement

At the first major of the season, DeChambeau was one stroke back heading into the back nine on Sunday at Oak Hill. He ended the tournament in a tie for fourth place, his best finish in a major since his 2020 U.S. Open win at Winged Foot. That week, Bodine carried the bag, got his yardage numbers and read greens, but his heart was elsewhere. Kelsey was back home and recovering.

The next week, DeChambeau had more success: a top-10 finish at LIV’s D.C. event. Two weeks later DeChambeau posted a top 20 at the U.S. Open at LACC. The run continued. The unretired caddie carried on.

“Those first few months I was able to do it and get away with it,” Bodine said. “Bryson was there to play golf. I didn’t want pity or anything. I’ve told him that I’m always going to be ready to be his biggest cheerleader, but there was a lot going on.”

Bodine needed a cheerleader of his own.


It was early evening in Hertfordshire, England. Bodine walked, alone, down the first few holes of the Centurion Club, preparing his yardage book for the LIV event that coming weekend. DeChambeau had nearly won last week’s event in Spain, and The Open was fast approaching: Bodine had work to do. He decided to go out onto the course and get a head start on his preparation for the week.

Advertisement

By the fifth hole, it all became too much. Standing on his own in the middle of the empty fairway, Bodine fell apart.

He called home, to Kelsey.

“I don’t feel like I’m supposed to be here right now,” Bodine told her.

The feelings were coming, always there during their frequent phone calls when Bodine was on the road. “We’d often spend nights trying to help each other through this whole thing,” he said.

His next call was to DeChambeau.

Advertisement

“I don’t think I can be here right now.”

DeChambeau knew what Kelsey and Bodine had been battling the last six weeks, but until that point, he hadn’t seen what kind of shape Bodine was really in. The caddie who did not miss a week in seven years with Finau caught a flight home to Seattle the next day, and DeChambeau found fill-ins for the tournament.

“Bryson knew the surface layer, but I’m pretty good at showing up to work. As a caddie, you can’t really have everyone feel sorry for you. Your job is to be an enabler and to lift your player up. I completely hit a wall after Spain. I told him I wouldn’t be doing this unless I thought it was absolutely necessary,” Bodine said.

When Bodine got back to Kelsey and the boys, he decided it was best for him to stay in Seattle for The Open, too. He had to press pause. He didn’t know if he’d ever caddie again. Nothing else mattered. Nothing except home. Bodine started going to therapy to address the anxiety he was feeling in the wake of the miscarriage, and he worked through his emotions to unpack the source of his reaction. He sat on his back porch with Kelsey for more than a few late-night talks. DeChambeau checked in every couple of days. He spent time with the boys and got back into a routine.

Three weeks passed, and he was still mentally fried. But it was time for a decision: A two-week stretch of domestic LIV events were coming up, with LIV Greenbrier in West Virginia being the first. DeChambeau wanted Bodine to come back. Kelsey was once again supportive. There was still a solid chance Bodine thought he might end up flying home on the Tuesday of the tournament. His parents agreed to tag along for the trip. It was worth a shot.

Advertisement


Bodine returned to DeChambeau’s bag in time for the latter’s 58 at Greenbrier last year. (Eakin Howard / Getty Images)

Thirteen birdies.

With Bodine on the bag, in the pouring rain, DeChambeau made 13 birdies — and one bogey — to shoot a historic 58 during the Sunday round of LIV Greenbrier. He came from behind and won his first event on LIV by six shots, leaping into the air when the final birdie putt dropped.

Bodine stood nearby, an umbrella resting on his shoulder as he watched in disbelief, a grin forming between his ears. The pair are back this week as LIV returns to the West Virginia resort.

“I looked around and I was like, I’m still mentally drained, and I still don’t know where life is going to take me, but I knew I had made the right decisions,” Bodine said. “I made the right decision to go home from the U.K, and the right decision to come back for Greenbrier. With how everything went on the course, with Bryson winning, it just felt like a large sense of gratification and thankfulness.”

It was the same overwhelming wave of emotion Bodine felt on the 18th green at Pinehurst No. 2.

Advertisement

There were too many moments over the past 13 months when Bodine had just held it together, whether that was to be a good husband or father or caddie. If he learned anything from this ongoing process of healing, it was to trust. Trust that life will work itself out. Trust the circle around you. Trust that sometimes, it’s OK to just let go.

“It’s been a battle,” Bodine said, “But I knew I was there for a reason. I knew that’s where I was supposed to be.”

(Top photo of Bryson DeChambeau, left, and Greg Bodine: Jared C. Tilton / Getty Images)

Advertisement

Culture

Can You Match the Places These Authors Lived With Settings in Their Books?

Published

on

Can You Match the Places These Authors Lived With Settings in Their Books?

A strong sense of place can deeply influence a story, and in some cases, the setting can even feel like a character itself. This week’s literary geography quiz highlights places where authors were born (or lived) that later became locations in their books. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the works if you’d like to do further reading.

Continue Reading

Culture

Book Review: ‘America, U.S.A.,’ by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.

Published

on

Book Review: ‘America, U.S.A.,’ by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.

AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries, by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.


For those of us in the national memory-keeping business, anniversaries hold near-totemic power. Satisfyingly round units of time, ideally bearing fancy, Latin-derived names, serve as the overburdened pegs on which to hang think pieces and museum exhibits, revisionist documentaries and maudlin public ceremonies. The arbitrary nature of such occasions is precisely what gives them their charge, inviting us to set aside complacency and submit to a comprehensive check-in.

In his new book, “America, U.S.A.,” Eddie S. Glaude Jr. presents an intriguing variation on the genre, seeing the country’s 250th birthday as an anniversary of anniversaries: 50 years since the malaise-ridden, schlock-heavy Bicentennial. A century since the subdued Prohibition-era Sesquicentennial. A century and a half since telegraphed reports of George Armstrong Custer’s defeat by the Lakota and Cheyenne at Little Bighorn rudely interrupted the Gilded Age Republic’s 100th birthday party.

If an anniversary offers a snapshot of a moment, the core of Glaude’s book is an old-timey photo album, a collection of notable episodes from earlier national reckonings, long-ago glances in the mirror. An estimable scholar of Black history, politics and religion at Princeton — best known for “Begin Again,” his 2020 meditation on James Baldwin’s relevance for our times — Glaude focuses, as his subtitle puts it, on “how race shadows the nation’s anniversaries.”

Such celebrations, he contends, have never really been the moments for honest self-reflection they are often advertised to be. Instead, the nation usually shatters the mirror, refusing to accept what it prefers not to see. “American anniversaries are often moments to turn a blind eye to the evils of the past and the present,” Glaude writes, “to suppress the fact of America’s divided soul.”

Advertisement

It’s a clever concept, and, needless to say, perfectly timed. Last year, Glaude notes, the Trump administration executed a hostile takeover of the government’s studiously bipartisan 250th anniversary planning. It is now preparing a program that is certain to conceal more than it reveals about the country ostensibly being celebrated.

Glaude, in no mood for celebration, argues that such omissions and evasions also defined commemorations in the past. In 1875, Frederick Douglass predicted “one grand Centennial hosannah of peace and good will to all the white race of this country.” He was right: The nation reached 100 years old at a crucial moment in the post-Civil War fight over racial equality, with white Northerners ready to give up on Southern Reconstruction. The occasion would help the once-warring sections to reunite around a shared commitment to white supremacy. On May 10, 1876, at the opening of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, the police tried to bar Douglass from the grandstand, until a white politician vouched for him.

The 150th anniversary came soon after a resurgent Ku Klux Klan successfully pushed for a restrictive immigration law aimed at keeping America a “Nordic” nation. At the lavishly funded, lightly attended celebrations in Philadelphia, Black veterans of World War I were excluded from marching in the opening parade. A writer with The Associated Negro Press wondered “what was in the breast of those black men who fought to make America safe for Democracy and on Monday stood on the sidelines, forgotten, as the Nordic strode by in all his vain pride.”

By 1976, when the nation marked its Bicentennial, the violence of the ’60s had destroyed any semblance of consensus. Vietnam and Watergate had eroded trust in the government. The commission initially tasked with organizing the anniversary was disbanded amid reports of corruption. Corporations filled the vacuum, Glaude explains, with “star-spangled whoopee cushions; patriotic toilet seats; Liberty hamburgers; red, white and blue beer cans.” The author, around 8 years old at the time, dimly remembers donning a pair of tricolor trousers.

A half-century later, Glaude is refreshingly honest about the depths of his despair. “I do not love America, and never have, especially now,” he writes in one of the more startling opening sentences I’ve read in some time. He dismisses this year’s Semiquincentennial as reaching back “to a storybook America that requires either the banishment of Black people from view or the reduction of our role in the country’s history, so as to affirm America’s ongoing quest to be a more perfect union.”

Advertisement

Undoubtedly true. But Trump doesn’t own the country, at least not yet, nor the 250th anniversary of one of the most radically liberatory and confusingly contradictory events in world history — an inspiration, as Glaude shows, even to critical observers of the American experiment, like Douglass. Far from the revanchist MAGA-palooza in Washington, I suspect this summer’s unasked-for invitation to national soul-searching may surprise us yet.

Despite his despair, Glaude concludes that “the past still offers resources for us to freedom-dream.” So, too, does this book.


AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries | By Eddie S. Glaude Jr. | Crown | 270 pp. | $31

Continue Reading

Culture

Summer’s Best Beach Reads

Published

on

Summer’s Best Beach Reads

Moore is a dependable ingredient in any summer reading soufflé. Her airy novels accomplish what they came to do: entertain and transport, without the pyrotechnics of, say, books that eschew quotation marks. In “Down With the Shipmans,” three sisters, laden with baggage, converge on their late mother’s beach cottage, only to learn that their father and his much younger wife are planning to sell the place.

The stakes are high, the drama is juicy and the views are sublime. Moore even provides two beach dogs — Leo (an unruly pit bull mix) and Cinnamon (“golden retriever, red bandanna, long pink tongue”) — to keep things lively. (Comes out June 2)

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending