If Michelle Wie can play in PGA events, why can't I?

A while back, Golf for Beginners’ Stacy and Barry Solomon brought up the issue of why bloggers have such a hard time getting media credentials to pro golf tournaments. It was the sort of thing that created an interesting debate, with people seemingly split on what role bloggers play in the world of professional sports coverage.

Now, personally, I stayed out of it, because I didn’t feel the debate applied to me. Sure, I write a blog, but I have plenty of experience in the mainstream media as a sports writer, as well. I’ve covered professional and major college sporting events, and everything in between, from the Little League World Series, to college gymnastics to high school track and field. I’m by no means blowing my own horn, just pointing out that as a sports writer, my dues have been paid.

So, while I feel confident that if I wanted media credentials to a golf tournament I could get them, that’s neither here nor there, because I want more than just the chance to follow PGA golfers around with a pen and notepad.

I want to play.

This is not such a wild concept in today’s world. And I have a plethora of reasons why I, like Michelle Wie, should be allowed to play in certain PGA events.

I have mad charisma.

Now, on a day-to-day basis, I can be somewhat curmudgeonly. But turn those cameras on and I light up the screen, baby. I am personality personified, with witty rejoinders, a captivating laugh and just an all-around strong presence. I’m like Daffy Duck spliced with a pre-dead Mitch Hedberg.

I am fairly easy on the eyes

Ok, I admit I’m not exactly the dude who played Hercules or anything, but I do have sort a smoldering, pissed-off Italian-Croatian thing going on, plus good hair.

I am mysterious

Who am I? Where did I come from? Hell, I’m not even sure. The 1990s? A blur. I think a Romanian prison was involved.

I am a whore

Want to put neon advertisement on my forehead? Fine by me, where’s the check? I will gladly hawk anything from the morning-after pill to MD 20/20. I’ll do cartoon voiceovers trying to get children to smoke. Heroin. I’ve known poverty, my friends. There’s nothing noble to it. Heck, I’m writing this blog for a Filet O’ Fish Value Meal.

I can’t golf to save my ass

I shot an 85 when I was 18, but that was more than 20 years ago. Plus, I cheated. So I’d say my career-best is about an 88. Ok, 91. Ish. Plus I have a bum shoulder, so just getting through two days of golf should be plenty painful for both me, and the people forced to watch me, which, with Wie’s most recent performances being a guide, appears to be exactly what these men’s tours are after. Want bad golf, I can supply it, by the slice-full

Add to all this the fact that I’ve never won as a professional either and, that I look stunning in short skirts, and I think you have what we in the business like to call a no-brainer.

So, sponsors, I appeal to you. I want to fulfill my dreams. Plus, I could win. I dare to dream, why can’t you? From one sponsors’ exemption, to making the cut, to a victory, to winning the Masters, to playing on the Ryder Cup team, to learning magical powers like Harry Potter to teaching myself to fly. It can happen.

But it can only happen if the sponsors and the PGA believe. And continue to be willing to completely sell out the integrity of the game.

–WKW