The Weight He Carried

The rain started as a sprinkle before quickly turning into a downpour. Dave Mueller, a longtime caddie who had been on Kevin Dougherty’s bag for the past year, knew what was coming next. The forecast for the Korn Ferry Tour pro-am had shifted in minutes — from no rain, to “it’ll miss us,” to the kind of steady soaking that makes you wonder if it’s ever going to stop.

Kevin and Dave laughed as they inventoried the rain gear they did — or didn’t — have. Umbrella? Nope. Rain suit? Afraid not. Rain cover for the bag? No sir. An extra towel? Hell, he didn’t even have a towel.

Since it was a pro-am and the pros only play nine holes, the decision to skip the rain gear had been a team one — which meant it was about to be open season on Dave.

Since we were riding in a cart, I handed him a couple of extra towels and told him the price was simple: for the next few holes, we were all going to give him shit for forgetting the rain gear.

We did. I peeked my head out from under the cart cover as Dave and Kevin trudged toward the green.

“I bet an umbrella would be nice right about now.”

It was all in good fun, the kind of laughter that fills the dead air on a wet afternoon — and a brief escape for Dave, who was carrying something far heavier than a soaked golf bag, something none of us, including his player, knew about.

He had cancer.

Mueller is easy to spot. His ever-present sun hat and the fact he towers over most players make him stand out inside the ropes. Over 16 years, he has worked as a professional caddie on the Korn Ferry Tour, the PGA Tour, and during a short stint on the LPGA. He began his career with Matt Davidson and, for the past year or so, has worked for Kevin Dougherty.

Talk to the players Mueller has worked for and you’ll hear what you’d expect about a 16-year veteran. John VanDerLaan, who worked with Mueller for three years, told me, “He was reliable, always early, worked hard, and did everything I needed him to.” The sentiment was echoed by each of his former bosses.

You can also measure the respect Mueller has earned in the caddie world by the company he keeps. “Turtle” — an all-time caddie nickname — and Rusty are longtime loopers, widely respected, and have traveled with Dave for years.

“He works hard, keeps to himself, and does things right,” Turtle told me.

Rusty echoed that sentiment, then laughed while sharing a story from one of their early trips together more than a decade ago. After an exhausting week, the pair settled into a bar on Sunday for a couple of beers. After the third round, Dave said, “We’ll have one more.” When the server returned, Rusty replied, “We’ll have one more.” Back and forth they went, stacking “one more” on top of “one more” until the night finally ended.

More than 14 years later, Rusty still calls him “One-More Dave,” and Dave still answers to “One-More Rusty.”

Last season, Mueller began working with veteran Kevin Dougherty and, although the duo didn’t secure one of the 20 PGA Tour cards, they put together a solid year, finishing 35th in points. This season, the goal was simple: improve on that finish and earn a card.

When I spoke with Mueller yesterday, he told me he began experiencing stomach pain last season. He wondered if it might be lactose intolerance and didn’t think much of it.

He mentioned it during a routine physical a few months ago. His doctor was concerned enough to order tests. The bloodwork returned alarming numbers, prompting further exams and a warning that the prognosis might not be good.

With the season approaching, and his next appointment scheduled so it wouldn’t interfere with the opening events in the Bahamas, Mueller refused to stop working.

And because he didn’t want to distract Dougherty during a crucial start to the year, he chose not to tell his player — a selfless decision meant to keep Dougherty focused entirely on golf.

The only people he confided in were Turtle and Rusty, and only because they knew his longtime girlfriend, Theresa.

“If anything happened, I wanted them to let her know,” he told me.

A T10 in the second Bahamas event helped Mueller take his mind off the looming test results.

After the Bahamas swing, the Korn Ferry Tour moved on to Latin America, and again Mueller refused to stop working — and refused to tell Dougherty — determined to keep his player focused on golf, even as his own health quietly worsened.

Mueller admitted he struggled in Panama. The physical and emotional toll of the diagnosis had, understandably, begun to catch up with him. On the flight from Panama to Colombia, he felt for the first time that he might need to consider stepping away from caddying.

When he landed, another caddie asked if he was alright. Mueller admitted he wasn’t feeling well. As soon as he arrived at the hotel, he looked in the mirror and was stunned — his eyes and skin had turned yellow. He was jaundiced.

He immediately called his doctor, who told him to get on the first plane home he could and go straight to the emergency room.

On the way to the airport, Mueller called Dougherty and told him everything he had kept from him. Dougherty was stunned, his thoughts immediately turning to how he could help his friend.

Doctors soon confirmed the diagnosis: a Klatskin tumor. They warned Mueller the road ahead would be difficult. Surgery is scheduled for March 2, and in the best-case scenario, it will require removing half of his liver.

Dougherty and Chris Erwin — a former pro turned caddie — quickly set up a GoFundMe to help with medical expenses. The response was immediate and overwhelming. Players, caddies, Tour officials, and friends from across the golf world have helped raise more than $50,000. The respect Mueller has earned over his career was evident in the names attached to the donations.

Mueller struggled to speak through tears when he talked about the outpouring of support.

“I don’t know how to thank everyone enough,” he said, pausing between words to compose himself.

The road ahead is uncertain. Mueller knows that. Still, he has vowed to fight, thanking everyone who has stood beside him and hoping the next time he walks a fairway, it will be under clearer skies.

You can donate to Mueller’s GoFundMe here.

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