ON THURSDAY MORNING, CALDECKER, Ted Tryba, and Tommy Tolles have a 7:18 tee time. Other than Caldecker’s wife and young son, the only people waiting to see them off are me and my cameraman Mike Blundell. Although TV coverage won’t start until Saturday, we will be following him for thirty-six holes, gathering material that could be useful for the weekend. Tryba and Tolles react to our presence with mild curiosity and surprise, Caldecker with a wry smile.
Caldecker has retaught himself to walk so well that the difference in his gait is barely perceptible. As he steps to the blue markers and plants his tee in the manicured turf, his strides are brisk and fluid and so are his practice swings. What distinguishes him is his face, a creased map of all he’s been through, the strength he has derived from it as well as the cost. It’s the kind of face you rarely come across on the PGA tour, and although all three players are about the same age, Tryba and Tolles seem childlike by comparison.
Caldecker is also the most nervous of the three because he has the most at stake this morning. As someone with no status on tour who got into the field on a sponsor’s exemption, the pressure to take advantage of his rare opportunity is enormous. Under the circumstances, Caldecker and his game hold up well.
Determined to avoid the big number, he plays more conservatively than his playing partners and churns out one carefully plotted par after another, and his one-under-par 71 puts him smack in the middle of the field. So far at least, his leg does not appear to be a factor.
Friday brings more of the same. Caldecker continues to play within himself, finding the fairways off the tee and the center of the greens on his approaches. Fortunately, he makes a couple more putts, and after 14, he is three under for the day, four under for the tournament. For the second day in a row, the leg appears to be less of an issue than the usual rookie tensions, but as they leave 15, his caddy has to wait for him to catch up and both Blundell and I can see the strain in his eyes. Over the next three holes, Caldecker and his caddy walk slower and slower, and on 18, with the clubhouse in sight, Caldecker limps noticeably for the first time in the tournament. Nevertheless, his 68, and two-day today total of 139, put him comfortably inside the cutline and ensure he will be around for the weekend, and the only one as relieved as Caldecker is Kearns.
When he walks off 18, Blundell and I intercept him for a brief interview to be aired the next day. “Congratulations, Hugo, on two solid rounds of golf. How does it feel,” I ask, “after all you’ve been through, to finally make your first PGA cut?”
The phrase “all you’ve been through” elicits the same wry smile I saw on the first tee. If he had any doubts as to why CBS would assign a crew to cover the first thirty-six holes of an unknown rookie playing on a sponsor’s exemption, they have just been erased.
“Relieved,” he says. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to do this again.”
“Until the last couple of holes, you were moving well, but you seemed in some discomfort on the last few holes. How much was the leg bothering you today?”
“I’m not going to talk about the leg,” says Caldecker, and brings the interview to an abrupt close. He pivots and limps off, but before he steps into the scorers’ tent, he turns back and offers one last withering glance.