Official Caddying Story: Jeff King

Jeff King is the founder of Kingmade Jerky, the “Official Jerky and Official Meat Snack” of the PGA Tour. Founded in 2012, Kingmade has attracted a cultish following on the PGA Tour, with the help of players like Luke List, Scott Brown, Billy Horschel, Davis Love III, Jimmy Walker, Graeme McDowell, Matt Kuchar, and Vaughn Taylor. The brand continues to thrive after taking on growth capital from Bushwood Investment Partners, LLC. King has caddied for most of his life, having worked on the PGA Tour, the LPGA Tour, the Asian Tour, and the Korn Ferry Tour.

At which golf course did you first caddy and how old were you when you started?

Woodmar Country Club when I was 10 and I caddied there all through high school, until I left for college.

Why were you compelled to become a caddy?

Well, let’s just say that we caddies are a different breed of bird. Starting out, caddying was one of the only jobs that I could do at a young age. But I really got hooked after attending the Western Open for the first time. It was at Butler National, and I got to see guys like Lee Trevino in person. It really grows on you, the love of the game. It didn't feel like work. The relationship between a golfer and a caddie is just super cool.

Take us through your first day on the job, who was your first loop?

I’ll admit that since I was a pretty good player at a young age, I was treated differently, kind of the golden boy. I didn't have to beat it out for long. Once your reputation gets out there, you’re getting requested by all of the good loops. 

I don’t recall my first loop, but I do remember the caddie training. There were 20-25 kids in a class. We were taught where to stand and how to replace a divot, all the basic stuff. It kind of blew me away that some people knew nothing about golf. It gave me confidence knowing that these other kids really didn’t don’t know what they were doing!

What was the biggest mistake that you made during your caddying career?

Mistakes happen, it’s how you learn from everything in life. But it just so happens that I have a fairly infamous mistake that wasn’t from when I was an amateur caddie. I was a 10-year veteran on the LPGA Tour. That just goes to show that you can make a mistake at any time. 

We were in Springfield, Illinois for the State Farm Classic. It’s a course that I knew well, but they had switched the nines; the tenth hole was now the first. I always keep my old yardage books since they’re 150 bucks for the new ones. I have a huge box full of them at home from the PGA, the LPGA, the Web.com, and the Asian Tour. Nothing else in the book had changed, so it wasn’t a big deal, as long as you made sure you were on the right hole.

Of course, we go out super early, one of the first groups off. It’s a slight dogleg right, and my player hits it into the fairway bunker. No big deal, we get up there, and she asks what we’ve got to the hole. I check the marker and quickly report back that we have 156 to the pin. Normally, she’d ask do you like 7 or 6, but in this instance, she just grabbed the 7 iron and absolutely pured it. The ball is on a rope headed straight at the flag. As soon as she hit it, I realized my mistake; I gave the yardage of the wrong hole. There were two people over green, behind the ropes sitting in some chairs. They didn’t even flinch since the ball flew over their heads, hit a road well past them, and disappeared in the woods.

My player asks, “Where’s that?” I say, “That’s gone, pro.” She says, “Really? Let’s go up and see where it is.” Of course, I don’t want to go up there and have everyone realize what just happened. But we get up there, and no one had even seen a ball. It had just sailed everything. Then, a volunteer on another hole yells that the ball hit the road and was long gone. I tell her that I had messed up and had looked at the wrong hole in my yardage book. We go back to the fairway bunker, and she asks what the correct yardage is. It was 115. I was off by 40 yards! The caddie parking lot was close by, and I just wanted to get in my car and drive away.

Now mind you, my player was in contention for the Solheim Cup as a captain’s pick. I’m thinking that I just destroyed this girl’s chances on the very first hole of the tournament. We ended up making a 7 on the hole, triple bogey. She played her ass off and missed the cut by 1 shot. But, thankfully, she made the Solheim Cup. 

I get reminded of that story 3-5 times a year. They like to call that road over the hole, Jeff King Boulevard.

What did you most enjoy about caddying?

It wasn’t always this way as a professional caddie, but it’s really become a lifestyle. We call it the “traveling circus.” But as a kid when I started out, I just loved the game. I loved learning and being around good people. Caddying taught me a lot about respect and manners, since it’s such a gentleman’s game. 

Now, I look forward to Thursdays, the chance to help somebody with their dreams. These guys are just so good. They had the right support, the right training, and the right amount of money. I never had those things and wasn’t good enough as a player. But Thursday starts the test. It’s the funnest thing in the world since you’re going to have more bad days than good. But I love that every day is a new challenge. You get to prove that you’ve gotten better. And when everything clicks, it’s the best feeling in the world. You’re helping them hold the trophy and taking down that flag on the 18th green!

Tell us about some of the people for whom you caddied, did any of them contribute to your career in a meaningful way?

Well, my father was the biggest, obviously. I played five different sports growing up, and he coached me in all of them. He coached Indiana high school basketball for 30 years and was also one of the top scorers in Indiana high school history. It’s in his blood to win. He instilled that in me. Win at whatever you’re doing.

Another person would be Vaughn Taylor, he’s a great friend. I caddied for him in 2012-13. I use the term “real people.” He’s a real dude, a true friend. When this jerky thing was getting going, he was so helpful. For instance, when Kingmade was starting to expand, the initial estimates said that we’d need to price our product around 8 or 9 dollars per bag, in order to turn a profit. I almost broke down and cried, man. I wouldn’t pay that. I come from a middle class family, and it didn’t feel right to have something with such a high price point. But Vaughn put his arm around me and said, “Kinger do it because people pay for quality, and you’ve got the best product out there.” 

There were other guys, too. Billy Horschel, Matt Kuchar, and Davis Love were so helpful. I had never done anything like this before, and it was so risky. I was scared. Their outlook on things really helped me keep going.

Speaking of jerky, how did this whole thing get going?

Total accident, I was in college for five years and never had one business class. Why do you think I became a caddie?!? But traveling all the time, I became a beef jerky junky. Whenever I’d stop at the gas station, I bought every type of jerky they had, trying to find the best. Some were just really bad, like it would almost break your jaw or was super salty. “Salty cardboard” is what I called the really bad stuff.

So on some downtime, I went to Bass Pro Shops and bought a dehydrator, with the plan to make my own. I looked up a recipe online, grabbed some flank steak, and then forced myself to wait the 9 or so hours that it took to make. After a day’s work, it was finally ready, and I took a bite. It was absolutely horrendous, just terrible. It was heartbreaking. But the competitive side of me kicked up and said, “I gotta win!” So I did it again. The second time was still pretty awful. Finally, the fourth try turned out pretty good. But, of course, I didn’t write anything down and wasn’t sure I could do it again. I was due in Miami for a Web.com event and just threw the jerky in my bag before heading to the airport. 

I was working for Luke List at the time and told him that there was some homemade jerky in the bag if he got hungry. He didn’t even need to ask permission, just help himself. About the 4th or 5th hole he grabs the bag of jerky and takes off down the fairway. After a couple of steps, he turns back and says, “Did you say you made that?” I immediately think that it can’t be THAT bad. But Luke asked “How long have you been making jerky, your whole life?” I told him I’d been doing it for two weeks, just Googled a recipe. He told me that it was the best he’d ever had.

Luke is just a nice guy, never says anything bad about anybody, so I figured he was just being polite. But we were playing with Scott Brown that day who said, “You got beef jerky. I love beef jerky.” He also claimed that it was some of the best he’d ever had. We finished up, and next thing I know, guys are coming up and telling me that Brownie told them about my killer beef jerky. They all wanted to try it, and in a couple hours, it was all gone.

Scott Brown came over and asked me if I'd make more for guys if they’d be willing to pay for it. I thought he was messing with me and shrugged it off. But he came right back at me the next week and said that he had four guys who would pay $40 per pound. I went back home and bought five dehydrators. The entire kitchen was filled; it looked like a factory. I’d make all that I could and then sell out when I’d show up at the golf tournament. I had to fly my parents in to help. This went on for months, my phone beeping non-stop from players and caddies that I didn’t even know at the time. Like Graeme McDowell, Jimmy Walker, and Chris DiMarco all asking for beef jerky. I’d show up on the driving range with a duffle bag full of this stuff, and it would be empty in 30 minutes. I looked like a drug dealer. Eventually, the media caught on.

Seven years later, we became the Official Beef Jerky of the PGA Tour. An investment group has come in and helped me run the thing, basically removing the stress part. One of the coolest things is people writing in, like a guy with heart problems who loves jerky but wasn’t allowed to eat it until now, since ours is low sugar, low sodium, and gluten free. At first, his doctor didn’t believe how healthy it could be but is now an advocate for us. We’re helping people with their diets, which is cool.

What was the biggest lesson that you learned from caddying that helped you succeed as you progressed in life?

That’s an easy one: to relax! In the business world, things don’t always go your way. Even if you’re doing the right things, they take time to take hold. Let them run their course. Same with golf, with life, and with jerky, it’s going to be tough at times, right? If it was easy everyone would start a business or play professional golf. This stuff is hard.

This is now my 23rd year of caddying. But when I was a young tiger, I growled a lot, got frustrated. While you’ve got to grind at times, you also need to know when to just relax.

If you could nominate one former caddy who went on to enjoy success, whose Official Caddying Story would you like to hear?

Not sure it’s a fit here, but for me, that would be Terry McNamara. He was Annika Sorenstam’s caddie when she won almost 80 tournaments. He just has such a great perspective on everything: life, emotional well-being, and overall health. I had some trouble with anxiety, especially when my players weren’t doing well, and he would remind me, “Look, they’re trying. You’ve got to chill out.”