From the first time I swung a golf club in 1993 at age 22, I had fallen hopelessly in love with this ridiculous game. It wasn't until 1997, though, when Fuzzy Zoeller made a racially charged remark about Tiger Woods at the Masters, that I tried to combine my work with my passion.

You see, 16 years ago I was a professional comedian of racially-mixed background. Zoeller's comments were great fodder for me as I created a comedy bit about the unfair nature of jokes and race.

Michael Collins, right, caddied for PGA Tour pro Omar Uresti -- among others -- during his days walking the fairways. Matthew Stockman/Getty Images

I knew nothing of professional golf until Zoeller made his statements about how he hoped Woods wouldn't serve fried chicken and collard greens at the Masters champions dinner. When Zoeller uttered those words, I tried desperately to coordinate comedy dates and PGA Tour schedules for almost two years until my opportunity came calling.

Apparently other comedians had already had this bright idea.

A comic who had performed at Coconut's Comedy Club in Hilton Head, S.C. during each season's PGA Tour event for about seven years called me and said his wife was having their first child that week and he wanted me to be the first to know the spot was open.

After a 15-minute pleading-and-begging session on the phone with the club owner, he agreed to give me a shot.

A former high school classmate of mine was an assistant pro at a Jack Nicklaus-designed course on the island. He told me if I ever got there the week of the tournament, he'd get tickets. When I called him to let him know I was coming, he said he could get tickets for Tuesday.

My response? "Man, you got ripped off. They don't even play until Saturday!"

Told you my professional golf knowledge was zero starting out.

He laughed and told me it was a practice round, to which I responded, "We're going to go watch practice?"

Oh, it's funny now, but Allen Iverson hadn't made his famous "We're talking about practice!" rant yet.

My first nickname on tour -- little Hootie -- was born as soon as we walked onto the property at Harbour Town Golf Links up at the practice green, but that's for another column.

I told my friend I wanted to find a golfer that didn't have a crowd so we could talk to him. He looked at me like I had just asked to let Mike Tyson punch him in the face while I went on a date with his girlfriend.

"Don't talk to the players, OK?" he said.

"No, not okay," I said. "They swing and then walk. They can't swing while they're walking but they can talk, right? It's practice."

He was still looking at me a bit confused, by now, I'm sure, questioning his decision to bring me here. Standing on the 11th tee, a caddie walked up and started talking to me.

My buddy, in a panic, blurted out an apology and explained that I'm a comedian, to which the caddie called his player over and told him I'm a comic.

PGA Tour pro Omar Uresti introduced himself and his caddie/brother Rusty -- aka "Hoss." That's his nickname because he's terrible with names and calls everyone Hoss.

It turned out Uresti was friends with a comedian I knew. Uresti hit his tee ball, lifted the gallery rope and said, "Come on, man."

I'm pretty sure my buddy soiled himself at that moment. Four holes later, Uresti and Hoss were planning on coming to the show that night. By the end of the week, about 50 players and approximately 100 caddies had seen my act.

By the final PGA Tour event of 1998, I had been to four tournaments and caddied in five practice rounds.

On the very last hole of Uresti's season, Hoss called me over to the ropes, started untying his bib and said, "Bring him home, Hoss!"

Next thing I knew, the bib was on me, Uresti had just piped driver down the middle of the fairway, and I was carrying his staff bag on Sunday afternoon in a PGA Tour event -- for real! I honestly don't remember walking to the ball because I might have held my breath the whole way. I do remember not getting the yardage, though.