It hasn't been pretty, far from it. For the last few days I have been
sitting here in sunny Scotland reading columnist after columnist
express the same outrage and horror at the recent and various actions
of Michelle Wie's dad, Michelle Wie's agent, the LPGA and, to a lesser
extent, Michelle Wie herself. Truly, no sport does sanctimony better
than golf, a game that loves to portray itself as a veritable bastion
of all that is fair in play, then, invariably behind closed doors, does
all it can to protect and embrace blatant cheaters. You know whom I
mean and why it happens: to maintain golf's outwardly pristine image in
the minds and deep pockets of those lovely corporate sponsors. This is
business, folks.
|
Competing last week in something called the Ginn Tribute presented by Annika, the 17-year old Wie played 16 holes in a dreadful 14 over par - teen angst at its worst, surely - before withdrawing with what she claimed was a recurrence of the wrist injury that had made this her first competitive appearance in four long months.
So far so bad.
Sadly, however, Wie's sudden departure from the 34th LPGA event of her short and eventful career was but the end result of a rather distasteful sequence of events. Searching for yet another errant tee-shot off the par-3 15th (her 6th hole of the day) at the River Towne Country Club in Pleasant, North Carolina, BJ Wie was heard to offer what many present took to be advice over how his daughter should complete what was already yet another disastrous hole. To be completely accurate, the elder Wie recommended a return whence she came, in other words, three off the tee.
Now, while getting so up-close and personal during a round isn't the sort of thing any golfing parent should be doing - if in doubt people, shut up - it isn't, at least technically, a breach of any rule. For one thing, Michelle did not ask her father for advice of any kind. For another, what he did offer was merely help with her options within the game's often-arcane rules, not the playing of an actual shot or the club she should be using to hit that shot.
So far so kind-of-okay.
|
Here is where our tale of Wie's woe gets really murky. While the
young superstar was hacking, slashing and gouging her way through what
had to have been a traumatic 16 holes, her agent, one Greg Nared, was
seen making a surreptitious (and definitely against the rules) call on
his cell/mobile phone to what turned out to be an LPGA rules official.
Apparently aware that his charge risked automatic expulsion from the
rest of the LPGA season should her score reach what bingo players will
recognise as 'two fat ladies' (88), Nared then had a wee whisper in
Michelle's ear and, hey-presto, her wrist was hurting and 'WD' was
being entered after her name rather than what could have turned into a
brace of eights.
So far so naughty - maybe.
It was this possibility of collusion between agent and tour that had
so many of my fellow scribblers in a state of high dudgeon. In fact,
rarely can their dudges have been so elevated, a state of affairs that
was further heightened when, only four days after her painful 'injury,'
Wie played in a pro-am preceding the McDonald's LPGA (now where have I
seen those initials before?) Championship and, just to rub every
critic's nose in it, apparently received further on-course treatment to
her wrist. Only it was, ahem, the wrong wrist.
So far so laughable.
Let's get real, people. Let's get beyond all the winking, nudging and
insincere hand wringing. What has happened here is perfectly obvious.
As so often in professional - remember that word - golf, the so-called
integrity of the sport and the various organisations charged with its
running has been thrown out of the window because it has rather
inconveniently gotten in the way of the making of money. That's big
money involving many zeroes, in this particular case.
|
Come on people, get with the program!
All of which only brings me to the most serious aspect of this tacky little affair, namely the obviously fragile state of mind of what is, let's not forget, an impressionable teenage girl going through one of life's more traumatic phases. Apparently less than jovial during her abbreviated appearance last week - "I kinda felt bad for her," said playing partner, Alena Sharpe. "She didn't seem happy." - Wie appeared even more lethargic and depressed in the aforementioned pro-am. Indeed, so disinterested was she that even the mere thought of putting out on two of the last three greens was something she couldn't countenance.
Clearly, something is seriously amiss inside her head. Wie's agent, the LPGA and, most of all, her parents have a responsibility to step up before this outwardly delightful youngster's health begins to suffer more than it has already. That, it should go without saying, is far more important than any amount of money and, it seemingly needs to be said, is actually worth writing a column or ten about.
