MEDINAH, Ill. – Mike Baker had never even been to a major championship, let alone played in one. His tournament winnings last year were about $25,000, pocket change for Tiger Woods. As for signing autographs, hah!

Baker is a club professional, a guy who usually ekes out a lother people how to play golf and competing in the occasional tournament. This week, however, he and 24 other club pros are living large, playing in the 81st PGA Championship and getting a taste of what life is like on tour.

“I could get used to this,” Baker said Friday. “People look at you like, `Wow, you’re something else.’ You go home and they probably don’t think like that.”

Unlike the Masters and the British Open, regular golfers have a chance to play in the PGA Championship. OK, maybe not regular golfers, exactly. But the top 25 finishers in the Club Professional Championship qualify for the major, getting a spot just like Woods or David Duval or Mark O’Meara.

The only trouble with the fantasy is that it doesn’t last very long. Five days usually, counting practice rounds.

No club professional made the cut last year, and none was likely to make it this year, either. While Sergio Garcia and Skip Kendall were posting record rounds in the mid-60s, most of the club pros shot in the high 70s or low 80s.

“We don’t get to play in situations like this,” said Baker, who missed the cut with an 11-over 155 for two rounds. “They do.”

But the experience was incredible, the parting gifts unreal.

In real life, the 37-year-old Baker is the pro at the municipal course in Bangor, Maine. Like the rest of the club pros, he gives thousands of lessons a year and travels the East Coast playing in smaller tournaments.

While they might be big shots at their local courses, club pros aren’t rich. Heck, most of them still lend a hand in the pro shop, hawking shirts and golf bags. So no wonder Baker thought it was “kind of neat” to run into Nick Faldo. He got captain Ben Crenshaw to sign a Ryder Cup cap he brought along. When he played his practice rounds Tuesday and Wednesday, people wanted his autograph.

“That was the neat part,” he said. “People were hounding me for autographs. They probably didn’t know who I was!”

And then there was the scene at the practice range.

Baker was hitting balls with a wedge the other day when some guy came over and asked how he liked the club. The “guy” then introduced himself. It was Bob Vokey, designer of Titleist’s wedges.

Equipment representatives were everywhere, offering players clubs, balls, gloves – anything they needed, Baker said. Titleist said it would give him $500 just for using its putter for the week.

“It was like a candy store,” he said, shaking his head. “There are so many perks.”

That’s everyday life for a PGA Tour player. It’s an existence the club pros can only imagine.

“They’re talking about houses. They’ve all got cell phones,” Baker said. “Not a whole lot of worries other than keeping their cards. But it’s got to be hard to make sure you keep your card and stay out there.”