Caddie's Role: Paul Simon sings about 50 ways to leave your lover. I wonder how many ways he would come up with for a caddie to leave a player?

This caddying business is as nondescript a job as you are likely to come across and its life cycle is unsteady even by modern short-term contract norms.

The fact is with virtually all caddie and player employment arrangements you can hire and fire at will; there are no contracts stopping you from walking.

It is a precarious existence whereby planning a family and taking out a mortgage can put you under a lot of pressure to get along with a working relationship that otherwise may not be that workable. Probably the average time-frame for a caddie and player to stick together is about three years, but it can be as short as three weeks. There is no job description but if you do the wrong thing too often you will find out soon enough what is required of you as a bag toter, by which time it may well be too late.

I woke up early last Tuesday, as you do making the trip west over the Atlantic, and headed up to the Firestone Country Club to enjoy the relative cool of the morning in Akron, Ohio, given a forecast for a temperature peak of the mid-90s for later in the day.

Akron was the tyre mecca of the world in its day. I drove past the Goodyear plant which looked like a behemoth of the good old days of industrialised America; a massive red-bricked factory which looked idle now apart from the clock on its tower that seemed to tell the correct time still.

I turned on my car radio and was instantly tuned into the PGA Tour station with 24-hour golf news. They were relaying a story from the previous week's Canadian Open where a player dumped his caddie during the back nine of their first round. Apart from being intrigued at how you could talk about golf all day long, I was fascinated by the on-course mutiny in Canada. There are frequent "jockey" chances as we say on tour but rarely do they happen mid-round.

The story as told on the radio station was that there had been an altercation between player Jay Williamson and his caddie, Mike Mollet, which resulted in the player sending the caddie back to the caddie shack mid-round and pulling a random spectator from the crowd to continue as a replacement toter.

The stand-in had actually competed in the Canadian Open many years previously when it was a caddies' market and players were not quite so flippant with their comments to their bagmen for fear of having to carry the load themselves. The story continues that Williamson wasn't too keen on the replacement "Mike" so the scoreboard carrier got to have a go at caddying as well.

I arrived at Firestone and went into the air-conditioned caddie marquee where breakfast was being served and some of my colleagues who had been at the Canadian Open were sitting around preparing themselves for the day ahead.

Of course now I was going to get the unedited version of the on-course dismissal and just who fired who, with only the slightest of caddie shack bravado and embellishment.

Williamson, my colleague continued, pull-hooked a nine iron to a par three on the back nine on a hole where the wind was unsettled and hard to tell just what direction it was coming from. When you pull-hook a ball the chances are it will go at least 10 yards further that required. Williamson let his caddie know that he wasn't impressed with his club advice. To which the caddie replied he could carry the bag himself, took a fist full of his golf balls out of the bag, ripped his caddie vest off and flung the balls into the nearby pond, strode off towards the clubhouse and told his now ex-boss he would be waiting for him when he finished and not to forget his cheque book.

There are many occasions when this is just how we, as often obsequious advisers, would love to react to an ear-bashing from our players but mortgages and general cautiousness stop us from doing so.

It probably doesn't do the resigned caddie much favours for future employment when players hear of the caddie-shack tale of events at the Canadian Open: the official version is better for potential future job opportunities.

Caddies have been fired for all sorts of reasons apart from what is usually the most likely one - that the player is just sick of the sight and sound of him and it's time for a change.

We do spend increasing amounts of time with our players because, in addition to the hours on the course there are the lengthy practice sessions, possibly long flights together and sometimes evening meals. It is a wonder that some of us last so long. It can be an unhealthy amount of time for two grown men to spend together.

So you can jump on a plane, catch the next bus, send him a text or simply flick the bag off your shoulder on the course if you are unsatisfied with your player's attitude. But with today's abundance of information and lack of available players it is probably wiser to part company in a more civilised fashion if you plan to work again as a travelling porter.