It’s safe to say that I am comfortably in the latter part of my playing career. In fact, it’s now 18 years since I turned pro on a scorching hot summer’s day in Scottsdale, Arizona.
Tracking my mind back to who I was in those days, while grinding it out on the mini-Tours of America, now feels like checking-in with a long-lost son. One who’s gone from being a starry-eyed rookie with a man-bun, to a Tour veteran, with a lot more salt than pepper in his beard. Experience in spades but lacking the firepower and fearlessness of his previous self. Time really can be both a blessing and a curse.
Throughout the highs and lows of life as a journeyman professional, I can confidently say that most, if not all of my joy has come from the characters I’ve met. Whether it be golf resorts or cheap motels, hire cars or courtesy cars, Steers’ Wacky Wednesdays or a buffet dinner on the beach in Mauritius. None of it ever makes a difference, unless you are in good company.
Over the years, I have been blessed to not only have my dad on the bag, caddying in tournaments, but a couple of my closest friends, too. Recently, while telling a great story about one of them, I was reminded once again how truly fragile and fleeting life can be. This is a short story about my friend, Paul.
Back in 2011, my personal life had totally fallen apart in ways I never thought possible, and I was also on the brink of losing eligibility on the Sunshine Tour.
The only silver lining being that it was the Big Easy Tour’s inaugural year and so I still had a chance to regain my Sunshine Tour status, if I played well enough. Truth be told, though, all hope was truly lost by this point, as my confidence was already at rock bottom.
That was until one day, while mindlessly scrolling through my Twitter feed, I received a direct message from a guy who often engaged my candid commentary on how tough it can be as a journeyman pro on the Tour.
The message read: ‘Hey Cairnzy, we haven’t met in person, but I would love to caddie for you next week and help you regain your full card on the Sunshine Tour. I’ll do it for free. Regards, Paul.’
Of course, I took him up on the offer and after bouncing a couple more messages to discuss the logistics of when to meet for a practice round at Benoni Country Club, it was all set, and my new friend Paul was registered as my official caddie for the tournament.
Nothing could ever have prepared me for meeting Paul in person, nor the life-changing friendship we formed over the next two years. You see, Paul was not only a real-life rock star, as the drummer for Southern Gypsey Queen, but he was hands-down the most incredibly positive human I had ever met.
In fact, I will never forget that he arrived and caddied the entire round in a leather jacket on that opening round at Benoni Country Club. I doubt that has ever happened since then.
His belief in what we set out to do was totally unwavering and that spurred me on to start believing in myself again. He was kind to every player, every caddie and every volunteer he came across. He even offered to buy me and my playing partners lunch after the round.
Paul Wilson lived a life which captured what every person needs a little spark of. He was my daily reminder of how we should strive to treat others.
Paul was the rock star who never had a drink, never smoked and always treated his body and mind better than anybody I have ever met. Paul deeply loved his wife Nicky more than anything in the world and would talk about her to anybody who would listen.
Paul was one of my closest friends for exactly 23 months before one day, I woke up to see that #RIPPaulWilson was trending on Twitter. Scrolling downwards, hoping and praying to see the image of a different Paul Wilson, it sadly became clear that my friend was called home.
Paul had suffered a heart attack at the age of 29, as he was pulling through a bout of meningitis, and left the world a poorer place in April 2013.
Ten years have since gone by, but I often think of my friend. He was an absolute force of nature on stage, with Rolling Stone magazine hailing him as one of South Africa’s greatest-ever drummers. A thousand times moreover, Paul was one of the kindest, most open-hearted and truly authentic human beings I have ever met.
He left this world too soon but will always be the spark which keeps so many of us believing, even when all else seems lost.
– This column first appeared in the May 2023 issue of Compleat Golfer magazine.
