They're the unsung heroes. They have to act as shrinks, buddies, door mats, motivators and agony aunts/uncles. They're the caddies. Twenty three guys and one woman who have almost as much influence as the players on the destination of the trophy that has Abe Mitchell's likeness standing proudly on top.

Times have changed for the caddies. "It just gets better all the time," remarked Billy Foster, relishing his fifth Ryder Cup campaign. It wasn't always so good. When Seve Ballesteros played in his first match at Greenbrier, West Virginia, in 1979, caddies had to pay their own way. Indeed, on that occasion, his regular bagman Dave Musgrove didn't feel it was worth his while to fly over and Seve used three different local caddies, the last of whom chased him around the clubhouse he was so upset over the Spaniard's demands.

That was the exception, though. A close relationship is essential between the player and caddie. The caddie has to be able to read his man like a book. Recognition of their importance, and an improvement in their status, came for the 1983 match at Palm Beach Gardens in Florida when then captain Tony Jacklin - following approaches from Musgrove, Jimmy Cousins and John Davidson, aka "The Prof" - insisted they travel free with the players.

Willie Aitchison, the daddy of them all, has caddied for four different players in six different Ryder Cups. This week, he is caddie master for the European team. Standing outside the merchandise shop in Valderrama, this elegant man casts his mind back to capture the essence of what a caddie means to a player.

Back in 1973, Aitchison was caddying for the other side, the Americans. The place was Muirfield and his `master' was Lee Trevino, who'd been partnered with Homero Blancas in a fourball match with Christy O'Connor and Neil Coles. A European on an American bag.

"I remember Homero started to talk to Lee in Spanish, so that I couldn't understand. Immediately, Lee turned to him and said `Don't do that to Willie, don't embarrass him. He is working for me and I trust him'," recalled Aitchison. Trust, the basis of a caddie and a player.

Which is why Aitchison can't understand the decison taken by Musgrove, Lee Janzen's normal caddie on the US Tour, not to carry his bag this week. When Janzen was handed a "wild card" pick by Tom Kite, Englishman Musgrove felt there would be a conflict of interest. So, Bruce Edwards, who normally looks after Tom Watson, is on the former US Open champion's bag.

"I just hope Dave wasn't talked into it," said Aitchison. "If we want to talk about allegiance, it didn't arise with me. I saw my job as to do the best to make my man win, whether he was European or American."

In fact, a postscript to the loyalty of a caddie is that when Trevino was captain of the US team at The Belfry in 1985, he asked Aitchison to be his team's caddie master. "I told him that was taking things a step too far, however," said Aitchison. The compromise was the best of both worlds: Aitchison was caddie master to both teams.

This week, he is the boss to 12 caddies - 11 men and one woman, Fanny Sunneson - who are carrying the bags for players from nine European countries. The nationalities of the caddies isn't quite so cosmopolitan: eight English, one Scot, one Irish, one Zimbabwean and one Argentinian. The solitary Irishman is John Mulrooney, from Bray, who is on Jose-Maria Olazabal's bag.

On an American bag, however, there is a caddie from Las Vegas who answers to the name of Brian Sullivan. Surely, there must be an Irish connection . . . and there is. Indeed, Sullivan has been known to wear Irish polo shirts when carrying the bag of his employer, Jeff Maggert, on the US Tour.

So, just what is the Irish ancestry? "It's from my father's side. His family hail from just outside Dublin but, unfortunately, we have lost touch, so I'm not quite sure where. I'm Irish-American and I don't mind at all when anyone calls me Irish. However, I'll be rooting for my man and the United States."

The days have disappeared too when a caddie trekked around a course with measuring wheel in hand to work out the yardages. Sullivan, on his first visit to Valderrama, didn't have to resort to such old-fashioned ways to find out about the course: "I used laser to find my way around and work out yardages. Even we are allowed access to modern technology."

It's a tough week for the caddies in a high-pressure environment. Foster, who is Darren Clarke's man, is looking forward to it, however. This is his fifth Ryder Cup. In 1987 and `89, he carried the bag of Gordon Brand jnr; and in 1991 and `93 he was on Seve's bag.

He is a good man for Clarke to have by his side. "We're all keyed up for this match," insisted Foster. The adrenaline is pumping through the caddies just as much as the players.