LARKSPUR - OK, so this caddie drives a Chevy. But he's got a terrific wife, an adorable infant daughter and a nifty house. So, why's he bummed?

Because The International at Castle Pines is kaput, leaving Dan Singleton with the feeling that life can be rough when there is no rough.

"It's really disappointing for me," says the 37-year-old Singleton who caddied 10 of the 21 Internationals that were played, including the second one - back in 1987, when he was just 17. An event so wonderful its memory turns his voice reverent as he recalls how "surreal" and "amazing" it was to watch pros "play golf the way it was meant to be played."

George Burns (not that George Burns; the golfer George Burns) had a bag that "must have weighed 500 pounds. I swear he had a couple of car batteries in it."

Singleton didn't care. It was his first International. "It was just cool to be inside the ropes."

By then, Singleton had been caddying Castle Pines four years. His career had gotten off to an auspicious start. There he was one afternoon in 1983, hoping to schlep somebody's - anybody's - bag, when who shows up but a foursome led by then-Broncos coach Dan Reeves. And whose bag does the 13-year-old tote? Guy by the name of Mike Shanahan.

"Easiest twenty bucks I ever made," says Singleton, who has made better money, and collected better stories, through the years.

On the happy side of the ledger is 2000, the year he caddied for golfing great Nick Faldo. Faldo was on the downside of his career, but who cared? We're talking Nick Faldo. We're also talking Phil Mickelson, who was playing in the same threesome as Faldo.

Faldo didn't make the cut but still tipped Singleton $1,200. Almost as good was Mickelson complimenting Singleton for the job he'd done for Nick. Maybe best of all was the memory of being in a trailer with Faldo and Mickelson, waiting out a thunderstorm, when this wacko fan comes by, taps on the window and points to the golf club he's waving aloft.

"Hmm," says Mickelson. "Maybe you shouldn't be waving it around when there's lightning?"

Lye a lowlight

Then again, it wasn't only lightning that could sizzle the air at The International.

Singleton remembers one of "my great lowlights," as the time he caddied for an aging pro named Mark Lye. After Lye blows a two-foot putt on the 12th hole, he turns on Singleton and screams at him, blaming the caddie for misreading the green and costing him big time.

He's still ragging on Singleton as they start walking toward the 13th tee. Longest walk of Singleton's career. He wasn't too upset when Lye stopped talking to him for the next four holes.

But if silence could be golden, it could also be leaden. Take the time Singleton caddied for Yoshi Mizumaki, a Japanese pro. It wasn't that Mizumaki wasn't a nice guy. It was that he spoke about 10 words of English. Still, Singleton managed to help him read the greens by concocting this primitive sign language. Not that Mizumaki made the cut.

Actually, the only golfer Singleton worked with who made it past Friday at The International was Anthony Rodriguez. Not that anybody noticed. See, Rodriguez was anonymous; this was his pro debut. He dubbed his foursome the "hot dog group" because, he said, "when we come to a hole, everybody goes off to buy a hot dog."

Still, when Rodriguez, with Singleton's green-reading input, sank a birdie putt on 18 and advanced to Saturday, it probably tasted like filet mignon to the caddie. Take that, Mark Lye.

Since most big-shot pros bring their own caddies, guys like Singleton get the likes of a Faldo maybe once in their careers. Still, caddie for a pro who does well, and you never can tell what might happen. A guy Singleton knew worked an International with Andrew Magee. Magee played well. Magee liked the caddie. Magee hired him full time.

But Singleton isn't free to go off like that. He and Julia have been married three years. Three weeks ago, Daphne arrived. His days of caddying Castle Pines in the summer, then heading out to Palm Springs, Calif., in winter are long gone. He's a middle-school teacher now.

He's not like Burkie - that would be William Burke to you - one of the "old guys" he met when he started at Castle Pines.

The old guys did the summer-winter year-round gig. They talked about caddying for Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. They had a million stories, stories they told in sandpaper voices that had been cured with unfiltered Camels and rivers of whiskey.

Some old guys had a good run. Burkie caddied into his 70s. Then he died.

Hoping for return

Singleton isn't sure if he can caddie that long, but he figures he's got another "10 or 15 years left." He's hoping to do it in The International, if it ever comes back. But, funny thing, if it stays dead, he's better off. There was so much prep time before, during and after the event that for three weeks. few members would play Castle Pines. And caddies need players.

But not cheap ones.

One year Singleton draws Andy Bean. Guy's a pro, right? It's The International, right? So after the Pro-Am event, Singleton waits for his tip and . . . Bean writes a check for 60 bucks. Sixty bucks?

Singleton shakes his head at the memory. But he smiles at others. Like the time he had this obscure Australian named Wayne Smith. Smith knew Jack Nicklaus Jr., who invited him to play a practice round. Who shows up for the practice round but Jack Nicklaus Sr. Singleton's eyes glaze over as he recalls how the old man played Castle Pines. Smooth as butter.

He figures he'll have to hold on to those memories. Tell them to Daphne when she's older. Tell them to young caddies as the years roll by. Tales of The International. Burkie would be proud.

meadowj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-2606

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