Thursday, June 27, 2013

Michele Wie Still Puttering Along


It was a brutally hot, late-May Thursday morning in Galloway, New Jersey -- pro-am day at the ShopRite LPGA Classic. Five golfers and their caddies were gathered around the 12th tee of the Bay Course at the Stockton Seaview Hotel & Golf Club, seeking shade wherever they could find it. At 8:00 a.m., the temperature was already approaching 90 degrees.

After four amateurs hit their drives, the group's lone professional, ranked 100th in the world, stepped up to the tee. Clad in an orange Nike polo shirt, with a dyed-pink ponytail pulled through her cap, she took a couple of practice swings with a fairway wood. The young golfer examined the hole, a sharp dogleg right, and took her stance.

Up close, her swing is a marvel to behold. At six feet tall, her lean frame gives her the ability to create a long and fluid motion, with incredible extension. Her flexibility is off the charts.

But the end result of that magnificent roundhouse swing on the 12th tee was a wayward drive, which tailed away from the center. She leaned, trying to coax it back toward the fairway, to no avail.

Michelle Wie found the rough -- a place that she has become all too familiar with.

The fact that she's a dismal 144th in driving accuracy on the LPGA tour only begins to tell the story of what is wrong with Michelle Wie's game. In no statistical category does she presently rank in the top 25. At 44th in putts per round, 68th in greens in regulation, and 82nd in sand saves, she is completely out of sync from tee to green.

Those dreadful stats have, not surprisingly, translated to poor results. In 10 starts this year prior to the ShopRite, Wie missed the cut five times. Her best finish was a tie for 28th at the LPGA Lotte, in her home state of Hawaii. She'd amassed less than $30,000 in purse earnings in 2013. Two seasons ago, she made roughly that amount per tournament.

Somehow, Wie, now 23, has managed to remain incredibly upbeat -- at least when she's between the ropes. During the ShopRite pro-am, she frequently offered encouragement to her playing partners. At one point, when one of the amateurs was struggling, Wie spoke to him for several minutes, in an effort to get him to relax and have fun. It worked: He began to play better after the chat.

"People get nervous when they play in pro-ams," Wie said. "There's no need to be embarrassed. I try to remind them to have fun out there."

It's possible that the specter of playing with the one-time wunderkind intimidated the amateur. The daunting seaside layout and the spectacular views offered at a number of the holes may also have contributed to his nerves. One thing that certainly couldn't be blamed, though, was the size of the gallery. Michelle Wie's parents, mother Bo and father B.J., were the only two spectators.

They stood approximately 50 yards apart as they watched their daughter's tee shot on 12. These positions are the norm. They are seldom together on the course. Many times, they're actually on opposite sides of the hole, in an effort to secure prime viewing positions. On pro-am day, with no one else in the gallery, this was not an issue. Still, they frequently kept their distance. And after the shot was hit, they made their way down the fairway with an intensity normally reserved for Sunday at Augusta.

Wie followed her errant tee shot with a mediocre approach on the par-4, 40 feet away from the flag. She walked down the fairway, taking practice swings with an invisible club, searching for the form that propelled her into the national consciousness a decade ago, when she was just 13 and played in the final group at the prestigious Kraft Nabisco Championship -- an LPGA major. Looking lost, Michelle Wie called out for help.

"Omma!" The Korean word for mom.

Omma was close by. She usually is.

by Joe DePaolo, Sports on Earth | Read more:
Image: Getty Images