Take a mulligan: why I would caddy for Michelle Wie
Call me crazy, but I would volunteer to caddy for Michelle Wie. The young woman’s been through more caddies in her short career than I’ve been through tires on my ten year old car — Greg Johnston, Brian Smallwood, Fanny Sunneson, her former swing coach Gary Gilchrist, and several times, her father B.J. Wie. Apparently, job security is safer working with Enron right now than as Wie’s caddy. Not even dad is safe!
But, hey, I’d be the first in line to apply for the caddy position with Michelle Wie. My stride is a perfect yard long, to the one sixteenth of an inch. I know how to read greens, but apparently that’s not in the job description. I also can rake bunkers, clean clubs, and, basically, do what I’m told. I also have a calming influence on people, or so I’ve been told, and know how to tell the early signs of heat exhaustion.
The biggest thing I’d try to do as Michelle’s caddy would be to lighten things up a little around Michelle. After all, she’s still 16 years old and in high school. I’d compare my iPod list with hers, and introduce her to the latest music from Rick Ross and Gnarls Barkley. Hopefully, the Wie camp wouldn’t “think I’m crazy,” to quote Gnarls Barkley.
I’d probably last one tournament, but I’m pretty sure I’d be able to loosen things up during those pressure situations when Michelle needs to sink a putt. If anything, Michelle would have fun.
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