Three years ago Dana Quigley won the MasterCard Championship at Hualalai for the first time. Chris Sutton's life has not been the same since.

Sutton, the Pro Shop Shift Supervisor at Wailea's Blue Course, moved to Maui in 1985 when he came on vacation with his parents and refused to return to the harsh winters in Minnesota. He had met Quigley, who opens defense of his 2005 MasterCard Championship today, a few years earlier and caddied for him near the end of his mostly forgettable PGA Tour career.

Quigley collected $92,000 on the regular tour. Coincidentally, it is about what he has given Sutton the past three years for carrying his golf bag at MasterCard and the Turtle Bay Championship, the Champions Tour's season-opening events here.

In that five-tournament span, Quigley has won at Hualalai twice, finished second to Fuzzy Zoeller in 2004, was runner-up to Hale Irwin at Turtle Bay last year and tied for ninth on the North Shore in 2003. Quigley, who has won more than $1 million just at Hualalai in his nine appearances, has collected $851,000 with Sutton on his bag.

The 2005 Player of the Year has also shared more generously than the unwritten 10-percent rule a caddie usually receives for bringing in a winner.

"It has changed my life," says Sutton, who cried when Quigley handed him his check on the Big Island in 2003. "It's a ridiculous amount to pay a caddie. I never comprehended that. When I started caddying growing up I made $5."

"To him it is a ridiculous amount," Quigley counters. "Out here on this tour it's not. I probably overpay, but I enjoy what it does for him and his family for the entire year."

Quigley, 58, has lived through the vast spectrum of the game.

He could never get enough of it growing up in Massachusetts and still plays every day, often as much as 45 holes. He was on the regular tour about six years before quitting to be with his growing family — if you listen to Sutton — or deciding to salvage his life — if you talk to Quigley.

"I quit because the bottle had control of my life," Quigley says flatly. "My priority was drinking. I thank God every day He helped me kick that habit."

He settled in as head pro at Crestwood Country Club in Massachusetts in 1983 and started playing the senior tour four days after turning 50, earning full-time playing privileges that first year (1997) when he won as a Monday qualifier.

Sutton left Hawai'i for a short time to work for Quigley on the East Coast, but returned to settle down and start his own family. His kids are now 10 and 12. Quigley approached him three years ago when his regular caddie passed away. He now works with five caddies on a regular basis.

"Some are degenerate gamblers and it doesn't impact their lives at all," Quigley says. "When you see a guy like Chris who really needs it, l like to pay more. I adore doing it, it's great incentive for me. It means I'm playing well and he's doing great. ... The only thing I hope is that he's not getting used to it. This bandwagon is not going on forever."

Sutton has hardly lost his perspective. He worked at Makena and Sandalwood before taking a job in the bag room at Wailea and working his way up. He jokes about "spending money like I really got it," but admits Quigley's generosity has mostly just allowed him not to worry as much.

"He gives me all this money and keeps coming back every year and filling my pockets," Sutton says. "It's been real handy. I feel like I've been on Easy Street since 2003. I know I'm not, but I act like it."

So does Quigley who, with the help of sports psychologist Bob Rotella, has clearly overcome the "club pro mentality" that initially had him freaking out about all the money he was paying caddies. Some $12.5 million later, Quigley has graduated to donating the $500,000 Charles Schwab Cup annuity he won last year to his church, World Harvest, Butler Hospital and the University of Rhode Island golf team, where son Devon plays. Of all Quigley's accomplishments, that impresses Sutton most.

This week — and the next at Turtle Bay and the next at the Wendy's Champions Skins Game at Wailea — Sutton just hopes he doesn't cost Quigley any strokes, or cash.

"He's a kook," Quigley says. "I wouldn't have him on the bag if he was costing me shots. He's exactly the caddie I need. He keeps me loose he's so low key. If I make a bad shot, it's almost like he didn't even see it, like he wasn't even there. It's great."

That feeling has been mutual.

Reach Ann Miller at amiller@honoluluadvertiser.com.